Timeless lessons on using your passions and profession to create a beautiful life.
Last weekend, a friend who knows me well, shared details about an event in our community where the keynote speaker was a writer and an artist. After a quick research into his works and interviews online, I was instantly captivated and knew I had to attend the event—and I didn’t regret it one bit.
His name is Krishnan Jayakumar, better known as K Jayakumar. He is an Indian civil servant, and an Indian Administrative Service (IAS) officer who retired as the Chief Secretary of the Government of Kerala(India). He has also worked as an author, lyricist, poet, translator, and screenwriter.
And for some context…
He is 72 years old. With over 55 years of writing experience, he’s authored around 30 books, written over 100 movie songs, and translated the work of popular writers like Tagore, Kahlil Gibran, and Rumi. He is a painter and has held over 17 solo exhibitions in India and abroad. All this long before the age of the internet, social media, and digital marketing.
He hails from my hometown in India (Kerala) and speaks my mother tongue, Malayalam which made the connection even more special.
On top of that, he has an uncanny resemblance to my dad, later confirmed by several of my dad’s colleagues and people who knew him in India.
When Mr. K Jayakumar took center stage amidst the uproar of applause, I was immediately mesmerized by his every word.
With a grounded and down-to-earth personality, he shared his insights and experiences while working on song lyrics that became major hits in the community. His words were infused with kindness, humility, humor, and knowledge.
I’ve always loved listening to older folks, especially from my hometown. Hearing my dad talk about his work and experiences is something I treasure, and listening to K Jayakumar felt like hearing my dad’s voice, offering advice and wisdom.
There was an aura of simplicity around everything about him, something I’ve been craving as I approach my milestone birthday. Later, I learned that he had written a book titled SIMPLE LIFE: An Inquiry into the Joys of Simplicity in a Complex World. “Clearly he walks the talk”, I thought.
He comes from my dad’s era, a generation shaped by newspapers and books. The lessons he shared from his life experiences are timeless and applicable to writers and artists of any age or era.
As I savored the samosas and sipped my chai, some of his insights caught my attention as an aspiring artist and writer.
His number one piece of advice for writers is to cultivate discipline. He worked a full-time job in the government services until 9 PM. And he dedicated his evenings—from 9 PM to 1 AM—solely to his art and writing. During those hours, he focused on one thing at a time, devoting himself to his craft without distractions.
While distractions were fewer back then, today we face a much bigger challenge in staying focused. Avoiding distractions requires a lot of willpower.
Writing is like leaving a part of yourself as a gift to the world. It allows you to capture a moment in time—whether it’s romance, joy, or sorrow—and revisit it whenever you want, even at 70, without needing to relive it in the present. Through words, you can transport yourself back to that feeling, giving it a forever life.
Being a writer means being a link in the long lineage of writers who came before you.
“Writing enabled me to spend time with other writers and connect with people from all around the world. They recognize me through the work I’ve done,” he said.
He managed to survive the grueling demands of his IAS career by staying connected to his passions. Despite criticism or judgment from others, his unwavering faith in himself as a writer kept him going with his creative pursuits.
His strong desire to become a writer drove him to study the writing styles of other legendary Malayalam writers. Though comparing his work to theirs often left him feeling not good enough, he continuously worked on improving his craft.
“When I write something, I keep thinking about how I can improve upon this,” he said.
At a very young age, he had the conviction that he would be known as a writer. He wasn’t swayed by the prejudices around writing songs for movies, even while working as a government officer.
He had this deep desire to express himself—something within him that needed to come out. Through his words, he brought out what was in his heart.
“I am writing to publish my name. To let time erase all evidence that I was an IAS officer,” he said.
It was never easy for him. He faced a lot of criticism and judgment from society mocking his passion and asking, “Who is he to write?” But he made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t let these doubts or negativity deter him from doing what he loved.
Some of his favorite works didn’t receive the recognition he hoped for, while pieces he didn’t think much of gained widespread popularity. We can never predict what will resonate with our audience; all we can do is show up, put in the effort, and have faith in our work.
He was often asked why he spread his work across writing songs, painting, and writing books instead of focusing on just one thing. “Where is all this going to get you?” they would ask.

I loved his simple yet profound response:
“You will ultimately get where you are supposed to. While you have health and this body, do whatever makes you happy. We’re all just visiting this planet for a short span, and we have the opportunity to live on this beautiful earth for a while. I’m glad I didn’t waste my time or the little talent I have. I used this visiting time to experiment with all the gifts I’ve been given.”
Life is a book with only 1 edition
For someone who’s struggled for over a decade to fit into just one mold, hearing that message felt like the permission I needed. I realized I must own my identity as a writer, artist, singer, and technologist, and continue experimenting with my gifts while I’m here on this planet.
As I relished the paneer and rice mixed with the curry, I pondered what drew me to his words…
Here was someone who had walked his own path for 55 years, standing on the other side. He was spreading his light and wisdom to a room full of his followers, simply by staying true to his passions for five decades. He spoke with no other agenda- no masterclasses to promote or courses to sell – but to share his story, and his journey.
And he became a beacon of hope for me as I was just beginning my own journey, stepping into the unknown.
By staying true to his path and being disciplined, he showed that when we consciously choose to follow our own journey and honor the promises we make to ourselves, we can overcome any challenge life throws our way. You can’t be indecisive and expect good things to come.
There’s so much noise around us about digital marketing, newsletters, posting on social media, and building an audience, but his talk focused on honing one’s craft and staying true to one’s convictions—all things within our control.
He didn’t mention any grand strategies or 10-year plans. Just one big vision for himself and a continuous, disciplined effort towards it, trusting that things would eventually work out.
What he shared was old, tried, and tested— with no gimmicks of digital media and marketing.
The challenges he spoke about are ones we still grapple with today, and social media adds another layer of complexity to our lives. Regardless of where we are or what stage we’re in, these feelings are completely normal. All we can do is push through and keep doing the work.
While I’ve come across similar advice in blogs or newsletters, hearing it from him made it easier to relate. It felt more impactful in-person, sitting around a table with friends, and our phones down, rather than scanning it on a device, lost in a sea of a thousand other articles.
Maybe it was because I actually gave myself time to process everything he shared, instead of just swiping up to the next article.
Maybe it was because it was the first time I had heard something like this from someone as old as my dad.
His advice was simple: while working on your craft, be a good human, live a simple life, and be righteous. That’s it. I was drawn to this straightforward approach—his deep love and passion for something he truly wanted to express, something he craved to bring forth into the world.
There is something that needs to come out of me, and I will write, no matter what others think or whether it gets accepted by society. He kept writing, despite the criticism, despite the questions. Why do we need another writer when we already have so many? He didn’t let that stop him—he knew his voice mattered.
He showed how he blended all his passions with his profession, leading a fulfilling life while managing a full-time job. That’s the most valuable lesson I took away from that evening.
Now, I approach my writing with renewed purpose, inspired by this meeting. It gave me a deeper sense of direction in using my passions and profession to create my beautiful life.
It was a serendipitous and delightful evening, ending perfectly with a bowl of soft gulab jamun soaked in sugary syrup!
XO

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