The Quality of Time

No matter what you do, your quality of time is not decided by your amenities — but by your focus, skill, delivery, and alignment. I learnt this not from boardrooms, but from the unsung professionals — the mutton man, the plumber, the carpenter, the roadside tailor. Their rhythm, their focus, their quiet pride — it always moved me. When they work, they don’t chase meaning. The work is the meaning. But over time, I also saw the other side. The same skilled hands sometimes turn cunning — the mutton man weighing a little less, the electrician showing a big fault for a small one. Skill, without conscience, becomes a weapon. Precision can serve both — craft or deceit. That’s when I understood: Focus makes you efficient. Conscience makes you human. When both meet, the work becomes art. When they split, the work becomes trick. So I stopped glorifying skill alone. Because the sharpest knife can heal — or harm — depending on the hand that holds it. And sometimes, that hand is ours. We take pride in precision, in our craft, in the cleverness that helps us move ahead. But if we’re honest, the line between skill and cunning isn’t always clear. It bends with convenience. It hides behind results. Perhaps we’re all part craftsman, part trickster — shaping the world with one hand, adjusting the scale with the other. And maybe the real mastery lies in knowing which hand is at work — before the world notices, and before we forget. Perfection is not spotless. Even light casts a shadow — that’s how we know it’s real.