08/01/2026
From Groundedness to Goodness
While in Nowrosjee Wadia College, Pune, I had the good fortune of being taught by Professor Mrs. Bastani, previously known as Miss Malkani—sweet, loving, wise, and just the right mix of a former Sindhi married into the Parsis of India. One warm afternoon, as ceiling fans whirred lazily and chalk dust floated like tiny galaxies in the sunlight, I was caught daydreaming in her class.
She stopped mid-sentence, tightened her saree ‘palloo’ around her shoulders, and marched toward my desk with theatrical flair. “Mandhyan!” she barked, though her eyes twinkled. “If your thoughts are so good, why don’t you share them with the rest of us instead of hoarding them like a miser with his money?”
The class erupted in laughter. Even I couldn’t help but grin, caught red-handed in my reverie.“But ma’am,” I stammered, “I was just… thinking.”“Thinking?” she shot back, raising her eyebrows. “Thinking is good, ‘beta.’ But thinking alone makes you a philosopher. Speaking makes you a leader. And speaking with humor—ah, that makes you unforgettable!”
She tapped my notebook with her chalk, leaving a white smudge like a signature. “Now, tell us what you were thinking. And make it worth our time!”
I walked to the front of the class and mumbled about how, someday, I aspired to be a public speaker on stage, which drew both awe and mockery. Mrs. Bastani clapped her hands dramatically. “There you go! See? Even simple ideas gain strength and value when articulated. Next time, Mandhyan, don’t just sit there, stand up and speak up. Share your thoughts. Who knows? One day, people might actually pay to hear them!” The class roared again, and I sat down, cheeks burning but heart strangely lifted.
In that moment, I learned that good thoughts, like good humor, are meant to be shared—not locked away.
Language itself carries these lessons. The Latin root humus—soil, earth—gave us human (earthling), humble (grounded), and humor (moisture, balance). The Romans, practical as ever, reminded us that dignity comes from being grounded. To be humanus was to recognize our shared earthliness. To be humilis was not weakness but wisdom. Even humor, in its earliest sense, was about harmony—the balance that kept body and society alive. And of course, today humor is the spark that keeps us sane when life gets absurd.
Travel eastward to my hometown, my childhood school, and community, and the Parsis’ heritage comes alive in the sacred tongue of Avestan: HuMATA, HuKATHA, HuVRSHTA. Good thoughts. Good words. Good deeds. I still feel the weight of the metal school badge on my uniform with these three words etched on it. I can still hear my teachers and friends reciting these words with reverence and a smile, as if to say: goodness isn’t meant to be stiff or solemn—it’s meant to be lived, breathed, and laughed into existence. These weren’t just moral slogans; they were a compass, a way to align thought, speech, and action with goodness. They are still a living, breathing part of who I am, and what I think, speak, and do in life today.
What strikes me is how these traditions converge. Rome said: Stay grounded in the earth. Persia said: Stay grounded in goodness. One spoke of soil, the other of soul. Put them together, and you get a recipe for being fully human: humble, balanced, and guided by good thoughts, good words, and good deeds. The soil nourishes the body; goodness nourishes the spirit. Across cultures, across centuries, humanity has always sought the same truth—that life flourishes when we are rooted in earth and lifted by goodness.
And here’s the kicker for us as leaders today. To lead is to be human—recognizing our shared earthliness. To lead is to be humble—staying grounded. To lead is to balance our humors—seeking harmony. And to lead is to live by Humata, Huktha, Huvrshta—aligning thought, word, and deed with goodness. The earth reminds us where we come from; goodness reminds us where we must go. Leadership, in its truest form, is the bridge between where we are today and where we want to be tomorrow.
And as Mrs. Bastani once teased me, “One day, people might actually pay to hear your thoughts.” Well, here we are. She was right. And if you have ever heard me and paid, then I surely owe her royalties.
by Raju Mandhyan
Keynote Speaker for Authentic Leadership Influence© | Coach to CEO for Public Speaking & Cross-Cultural Leadership | Learning Facilitator for Sales and Negotiation, Mind-Mapping™ for Business Applications
