Thirukkural with the Times explores real-world lessons from the classic Tamil text ‘Thirukkural’. Written by Tamil poet and philosopher Thiruvalluvar, the Kural consists of 1,330 short couplets of seven words each. This text is divided into three books with teachings on virtue, wealth, and love and is considered one of the great works ever on ethics and morality. The Kural has influenced scholars and leaders across social, political, and philosophical spheres.
Motivational speaker, author and diversity champion Bharathi Bhaskar explores the masterpiece.
The conversation began cautiously.
I was meeting a group of my daughter's Gen Z friends, a generation that guards its privacy differently. I stayed with safe pleasantries. A young man introduced himself as a professional poker player.
For a brief moment, I tightened my grip on the armrest but kept a neutral face and listened.
The young man explained that he was exploring other opportunities. Curious, I asked what skills he would mention to prospective employers. Poker, he said, is about assessing probabilities, making decisions with incomplete information, managing risk and remaining emotionally steady when outcomes refuse to cooperate. The more I thought about it, the more it sounded like life itself.
When we look back at our best and worst decisions, we usually judge them through the lens of outcomes. A decision that led to success becomes a good decision. One that ended badly becomes a poor one.
Perhaps our greatest weakness is our discomfort with uncertainty. We admire confidence and reward certainty. We are suspicious of people who say, “I am not sure”.
Yet those may be among the wisest words a person can utter.
Good poker players and good decision-makers share a common trait. They are comfortable with uncertainty. Instead of asking, "Am I right?", they ask, "How likely am I to be right?"
The experienced player studies probabilities, gathers information and estimates the choices opponents are likely to make. But even then, he knows something important: there are cards he cannot see.
Life, too, is closer to poker. We rarely know the motives, fears, intentions and constraints hidden in the minds of others. We make choices with partial information and discover the consequences only later.
It reminded me of Anton Chekhov's famous story, The Bet. A wealthy banker and a young lawyer made a bet: if the lawyer agreed to be imprisoned for 15 years, the banker will pay him two million roubles. Tempted by a fortune beyond imagination, the lawyer accepted.
The years passed. In solitude, the lawyer immersed himself in books. What began as confinement slowly transformed into liberation. Through literature, philosophy and reflection, he discovered an inner richness that made wealth seem insignificant.
On the eve of his release, he wrote a letter renouncing the money.
The irony was devastating.
The banker, ruined by reckless speculation, had planned to murder the lawyer. Entering the prisoner's room, he read the letter and realised the truth. The man behind bars had been free. The one outside had remained a prisoner.
Neither could have predicted that outcome when the bet was made.
Perhaps that is the lesson hidden inside every wager we make in life. Outcomes are never entirely ours to command. Every decision contains forces beyond our vision and control.
Thiruvalluvar condemned gambling without reservation. He observed that gamblers may win once but lose a 100 times. Yet there remains something to learn from professional gamers.
They understand that good decisions do not guarantee good outcomes every time. Luck has a vote. Circumstance has a vote. Hidden information has a vote.
The only thing fully available to us is the quality of our judgment.
Thiruvalluvar captures this mystery beautifully in Kural 371:
Aagoozhal Thondrum Asaivinmai; Kaipporul
Poegoozhal Thondrum Madi.
On favourable turns of fate, energy seems to arise effortlessly. On unfavourable turns, even enthusiasm fades.
Perhaps wisdom lies in accepting that certainty is often an illusion.
Motivational speaker, author and diversity champion Bharathi Bhaskar explores the masterpiece.
The conversation began cautiously.
I was meeting a group of my daughter's Gen Z friends, a generation that guards its privacy differently. I stayed with safe pleasantries. A young man introduced himself as a professional poker player.
For a brief moment, I tightened my grip on the armrest but kept a neutral face and listened.
The young man explained that he was exploring other opportunities. Curious, I asked what skills he would mention to prospective employers. Poker, he said, is about assessing probabilities, making decisions with incomplete information, managing risk and remaining emotionally steady when outcomes refuse to cooperate. The more I thought about it, the more it sounded like life itself.
When we look back at our best and worst decisions, we usually judge them through the lens of outcomes. A decision that led to success becomes a good decision. One that ended badly becomes a poor one.
Perhaps our greatest weakness is our discomfort with uncertainty. We admire confidence and reward certainty. We are suspicious of people who say, “I am not sure”.
Yet those may be among the wisest words a person can utter.
Good poker players and good decision-makers share a common trait. They are comfortable with uncertainty. Instead of asking, "Am I right?", they ask, "How likely am I to be right?"
The experienced player studies probabilities, gathers information and estimates the choices opponents are likely to make. But even then, he knows something important: there are cards he cannot see.
Life, too, is closer to poker. We rarely know the motives, fears, intentions and constraints hidden in the minds of others. We make choices with partial information and discover the consequences only later.
It reminded me of Anton Chekhov's famous story, The Bet. A wealthy banker and a young lawyer made a bet: if the lawyer agreed to be imprisoned for 15 years, the banker will pay him two million roubles. Tempted by a fortune beyond imagination, the lawyer accepted.
The years passed. In solitude, the lawyer immersed himself in books. What began as confinement slowly transformed into liberation. Through literature, philosophy and reflection, he discovered an inner richness that made wealth seem insignificant.
On the eve of his release, he wrote a letter renouncing the money.
The irony was devastating.
The banker, ruined by reckless speculation, had planned to murder the lawyer. Entering the prisoner's room, he read the letter and realised the truth. The man behind bars had been free. The one outside had remained a prisoner.
Neither could have predicted that outcome when the bet was made.
Perhaps that is the lesson hidden inside every wager we make in life. Outcomes are never entirely ours to command. Every decision contains forces beyond our vision and control.
Thiruvalluvar condemned gambling without reservation. He observed that gamblers may win once but lose a 100 times. Yet there remains something to learn from professional gamers.
They understand that good decisions do not guarantee good outcomes every time. Luck has a vote. Circumstance has a vote. Hidden information has a vote.
The only thing fully available to us is the quality of our judgment.
Thiruvalluvar captures this mystery beautifully in Kural 371:
Aagoozhal Thondrum Asaivinmai; Kaipporul
Poegoozhal Thondrum Madi.
On favourable turns of fate, energy seems to arise effortlessly. On unfavourable turns, even enthusiasm fades.
Perhaps wisdom lies in accepting that certainty is often an illusion.
Read Comments
More Stories
Can a Raghuram Rajan-style NRI dollar-deposit scheme save the rupee? Gold giant or accounting fraud? Making sense of SEBI vs Rajesh Exports Can Pune’s ‘Pataal Lok’ project solve its traffic problems? Are Chinese spies using fake job offers to target Western officials? ‘On The Road: I Found My People At 6 AM’ The First Trillionaire Problem