From Karma to Cats: The Unconventional Gurus Who Shaped These Famous Personalities

“Nature has been my greatest teacher. Every time I think I’ve got life figured out, I see an ant carrying something ten times its size, or see a tree standing tall in the middle of a storm without tweeting about how tough its week has been, and it makes me realize how gloriously unbothered nature is. Flowers bloom without asking for recognition. Rivers don’t argue with rocks, they just find another way. Cats walk by without any offense. The birds sing, even though they do not clap. “I do not wake up thinking that it has been my teacher since I was a child,” she says.

“When I look for inspiration today, I find my greatest teachers in Gen Z. You know, I thought the trait of standing up for yourself and fighting for what’s right had left a generation. But in this generation our freedom fighter spirit has suddenly reemerged. Fashion and culture move in cycles, but the way these kids stand up for what they believe in — using pure irreverence, sharp humor and unfiltered conviction — is incredible to see. We We’re used to looking to adults for wisdom, but the script is flipped. Kids have become our gurus now, and if we care to pay attention, we have a thing or two to learn from them,” she says.

“I remember sitting at the India International Center with Ramu Gandhi, the philosopher and grandson of Mahatma Gandhi, who had written seven dance plays for me. Suddenly he asked, ‘Do you know who Rambha was?’ I said, ‘Yes, the divine dancer.’ He smiled and said, ‘You told me that you had read my grandfather’s autobiography. Go back and read about it again.’ In this, Gandhi talks about the family’s maid Rambha who used to take care of him in his childhood. When he was eight or ten years old, he was afraid of snakes, thieves and ghosts. He could not trust his brother, who laughed at him, or his parents, who dismissed his fears. So he turned to Rambha. He simply told him, ‘Whenever you feel scared, take the name of Ram.’ She followed his advice only because she believed that she could never be wrong. Gandhi later wrote that this good woman sowed the seed of faith in him. What impressed me the most was that he elevated an ordinary person like a house maid to the position of a guru because he had profoundly changed her life. We’re always looking for great names, but sometimes our greatest mentors are the most unexpected people,” she says.

“By the time I was old enough to form opinions about strangers, I could look at a man sitting alone on the sidewalk and tell you his whole story before I heard anything. He was part of a racket, or he was a drug addict… I made these conclusions with real confidence, and the confidence was convenient, because the man I’d already convinced myself was a man I didn’t have to go to.

It was a few months after I took over my father’s job after his demise, when I inherited this responsibility without any of the instincts that came with it. Coming out of a meeting near Safdarjung one evening, I saw a man outside the hospital gate, thin and tired and clearly alone, with a folded paper in his hand. I decided I would set a rule for myself: walk over and ask once if he needed anything, and if the answer involved money, walk away without guilt. When I asked, he took out the paper and wanted to know whether it said Tuesday or Thursday, because he could not read English and his daughter’s surgery had already been postponed once. He was sleeping outside that gate for nine nights… When I offered him money he refused twice and told me that his son-in-law was sending some money on Friday. I have never felt so small as I did on the way back to my car. “Certainty about strangers is almost always a story we tell ourselves to find forgiveness, and the moment I am most sure I understand what someone is doing on the side of the road is the moment I know the least about them,” he said.

“For me, that person would be Bhishma Pitamah of the Mahabharata. Although he is a great man rather than someone I know, his life has deeply influenced the way I think about duty, discipline and commitment. What I admire most is his unwavering dedication to his principles and the sacrifices he made for what he believed was best. His life is a reminder that true strength is not just about power – it It’s also about self-control, integrity, and the ability to put responsibility before personal gain. At the same time, his story teaches that even the best intentions should never come at the expense of remaining silent in the face of injustice. That’s a lesson I try to adopt in my life.

“An unconventional source of guidance for me has always been museums. Every time I step into one, it’s incredibly humbling because you’re reminded of how mankind has lived for centuries, even millennia. You begin to notice the common connections between people then and now – the way they lived, dressed, what they wanted. It puts your own existence into perspective. Museums teach me humility, discipline, and the present moment. They continue to inspire and guide me to work aesthetically and philosophically,” he said.

“If I had to choose a teacher outside of my family, friends or coaches, it wouldn’t be any person. It would be spirituality, specifically the ideas of energy, detachment and the art of karma. Over the past few years, I have realized that not everything in life can be controlled. There are moments when you can do everything right and still face rejection, loss or uncertainty. Spirituality taught me that even though I can’t always control what happens to me I can control the energy I bring to the world and how I react to it. I try to focus on acting with honesty, kindness and integrity. It has also taught me to be patient when I was living them. Looking back, instead of asking how they shaped me today, I’ve learned to ask, ‘What is it trying to teach me?’ For me, Guru is exactly that, who is not always a person, but something who quietly changes the way you think, live and move forward in life. Spirituality has been the guiding light for me,” she says.

“When I think of my greatest teacher, it’s not a person, it’s just me in the kitchen at 1 a.m. The service has ended, the crew has gone out, and eventually I’m left alone to practice. At that moment, there’s no ticket coming, no title or ego. Just the sound of my knife hitting the board. These boring moments are the key to mastering not only cooking, but any craft. Reflect before the madness of tomorrow. “Taking some time to reset has also completely changed my approach to cooking. The extra noise has essentially simplified my meals,” he says.

“When I think of an unlikely mentor, I remember standing behind the bar at the Hyatt in Delhi at age 23 or 25, watching a guest, Mr. Ron Somers, arrive for his daily beer at 6 p.m. He was a high-powered American corporate executive, and I was just a young bartender. Over the years, we would talk across the counter, and one evening, when I told him I was going to save some money after my first year on the job. When I succeeded, he looked at me and said, ‘Yangdup, don’t keep that cash lying around or spend it.’ As a young person, it would have been very easy to take that money and blow it with friends. But I followed his advice, bought a small plot in the foothills of Darjeeling, and five years later built a house for my family that still stands today. Decades have passed, but I always come back to those conversations at the bar counter at 6pm,” he says.

“Whenever I hear a patriotic song, I start dancing, singing and sometimes crying all at the same time. I think it reminds me of my childhood. Manoj Kumar’s films were before my generation, but songs like Mere Desh Ki Dharti were a big part of our school repertoire. I still remember when I was about eight years old, I was asked what I wanted to portray for a fancy-dress competition. I said, ‘India Mother.’ I also created scars on myself as part of the look. When someone asked why I decided to show it that way, I replied, ‘Because that’s the reality.’ Looking back I think that’s where it all started,” she says.