SPEAKING.APP

I love you so, so much. I was talking to the stage. Because you should know what the stage does to us. This is that one safe space where we can be creative, weird, wacky, right? Give me a little woo-hoo if you love the stage. Woo-hoo! When we’re up here, nothing else in this world matters except the stage, our craft, and our audience. But do we take this performer energy into our day-to-day lives? Most days, we don’t. We think the world will judge us, label us, maybe even laugh at us. Contest Chair, Toastmasters, and my performers in this room and all over the world, for me, finding the stage was not easy. I grew up in India, where my dad told me I had three career options: to be a doctor, engineer, or be a disappointment. And disappointment had its own hierarchy. If I’m in a corporate job, I’m least disappointment. But I wanted to climb the Mount Everest of disappointment. I wanted to be a Bollywood actor. You know, the kind of actor who can: fix the bulb, pet the dog, fix the bulb, pet the dog. But I never had the courage to tell my father, because if I did, like any other Indian dad, he would say, “Actor? Somebody is going to get a beating.” So I kept the dream far away. Then life, like a Bollywood movie, had its twists and turns, and I ended up in Amsterdam. One day, sitting in a boring finance lecture, I thought, “What if I gave myself one chance to be an actor?” Next day, I skipped class and went for an audition of a play: Romeo and Juliet. I wanted to be conservative, so I went for the role of Romeo. The director looked at me and said, “You want to be a Romeo?” Because there were 20 other actors: tall, chiseled jaw, enthusiastic. And there was me… enthusiastic. He said, “Okay, Mr. Bollywood. Show me how you would propose to your Juliet.” Showtime. I looked at Juliet and said, “Oh Juliet, oh Juliet, you are the love of my life. Your eyes are as pretty as the River Ganga. Your figure is as perfect as the Taj Mahal. Your breath is as fresh as Indian curry. Tell me, Juliet, will you be mine? If your answer is yes, just nod. But if your answer is no, just nod. And I’ll understand.” “Cut, cut, cut! Oh my God, you’re the best actor. You deserve an Oscar.” I believed him… for five seconds. Then I saw everyone laughing. And I thought, that’s it. My dream is dead. I can never be a performer. So I did what anybody with a broken dream in Amsterdam would do: I took up a job in finance. And finance professionals are really fun. They’re curious, energetic, open to new ideas. They only believe in data and numbers, and I’m sure when they sleep at night, they sleep with a spreadsheet on. There I was: crunching numbers, making Excel sheets, wearing blue and black suits to fit in. And attending finance town halls that were as interesting as the Toastmasters annual general meetings. Not the one from yesterday… from past years. Then one day, we had to do a presentation with 24 hours’ notice. Everybody panicked. Nobody knew what to do. And something in me woke up: the performer. I went to my manager and said, “Can I do the presentation?” “Are you sure, Sabi?” (That was a yes, by the way.) “Use the existing slides.” (That was a no, by the way.) So I threw away those data-heavy slides. I put on my red suit. And I used a story with opening, connection, and laughter. And guess what? I saw my colleagues laugh for the first time. Agree, this never happens in finance. After the presentation, my manager came to me and said, “Dude, you should be the new CEO!” Promotion? No. Chief Entertainment Officer. Then he said, “You do this so well, you should do it more often. You should teach us.” And I thought, wait… to fit in, I was trying to be one of them. But the day I unleashed the performer in me, people liked me. People liked my performance. And that’s when it hit me, my friends: I do not need a movie set to live my dream. I can be a performer even in a boardroom with a clicker and a projector. A clicker and a projector. My dear performers in the room, too often we hold our energy and we hold our ideas because we think it’s not appropriate for the room. Let’s not do that. Let’s unleash the ideas. Let’s unleash the energy. Yes, some days you will be trolled. Some days you will be rejected. Some days you’ll be made fun of. But trust me, some days you’ll light up a room. Someday, you’ll make someone’s day. And who knows, someday, you may even change someone’s life. So my dear performers, if life asks you, wherever you are, whichever stage you want to be on, “Are you ready?” Put on your red suit or your red dress. Step on the stage. Smile. And just nod.