How is it that we remember some people for a lifetime while others don’t even leave a blur? I’ve realized it’s either an incredibly positive energy or the exact opposite that makes someone unforgettable—either as a fond memory or a disturbing one.

Last evening, I had a chance meeting with Pavan Chauhan after what must have been 24 years. Pavan, who taught me for my CAT exams at IMS in East of Kailash, had the same effervescent energy now as he did back then. It took me an entire night of rummaging through my mental warehouse, and at 4 AM, I finally pieced it together—where I had met him before.

Some people are just turbocharged. Spending time with Aakash and Pavan felt like a recharge. I forgot all about my day—the office, the house—and was instantly pulled into a space of ideation, problem-solving, and finding innovative ways to grow a business. That’s the place I thrive in, the space I’d love to spend all my time in—I was in my zone.

So what do Aakash, Pavan, and Anuj (another entrepreneur friend) have in common? Immense energy, even at the end of a long and exhausting day. Their passion, independence, and openness to listen, discuss, and absorb draw you in involuntarily. You find yourself supporting them, wanting to contribute. They inspire because they’re always willing to hear and help—two ears, one mouth.

This reminded me of my time at PwC, during one of my first and toughest audits. After a long, frustrating day, I dreaded my manager’s arrival at 7 PM for the review. Sudhir walked in, took me downstairs for a smoke and tea, then returned, glanced at the files, and with a smile, said, “Yeh kiya hai, joker?” before bursting into laughter.

I had no idea how to react—sheepishly smiling, squirming, bracing for what came next. But instead of reprimanding me, Sudhir sat beside me, cracked his knuckles, and started typing, patiently explaining as he helped me finish the work. Without a single harsh word, he had conveyed everything I needed to know.

For the rest of that audit, I stayed back until 1 AM or later every night—not because anyone asked me to, but because I had to. I owed it to Sudhir.

Be like Sudhir.

A few years after I left PwC, Sudhir passed away. But I will always remember him.