|
There are those who turn up for work, and then there are those who turn work into a living, breathing art form. Siddharth Venkataraman is one of those rare souls. A man slight in frame yet soaring in spirit, quiet in presence yet resounding in impact, measured in movement yet boundless in thought. He is the rare kind who does not just do his job; he embodies it. With the gravitas of Indian Express behind him and the restless, relentless pursuit of excellence within him, he takes on the world, one frame, one conversation, one perfectly orchestrated moment at a time.
At the helm of "The Suvir Saran Show" under the SCREEN umbrella of Indian Express, Siddharth is more than a producer, more than a leader--he is the pulse of the project, the unseen force that keeps everything fluid, functional, flawless. My podcast may bear my name, but his hands steady the ship, his mind maps the terrain, his heart fuels the fire. He is the bridge between vision and execution, the invisible thread that stitches scattered moments into seamless storytelling. I meet people for a living. I seek out stories. I step into rooms filled with talent, genius, innovation, and ambition. And yet, in the madcap maze of media, in the grand theater of entertainment, it is this man behind the camera, behind the calls, behind the coordinated chaos, who reminds me of what truly matters. Humanity. Professionalism. Passion. The art of balancing boundless enthusiasm with an unshakable work ethic. The industry is a blur of names and numbers, clicks and views, deadlines and distractions. Siddharth, however, does not measure impact in metrics. He measures it in moments. In the hush before the first question is asked, in the electricity of a conversation mid-flight, in the warmth of a guest who feels heard, in the quiet satisfaction of a show well done. He does not chase celebrity--he champions substance. He does not seek applause--he ensures the story is told, and told well. What makes a man remarkable? Is it his title? His tenure? His triumphs? Or is it, perhaps, in the way he treats people along the way? Siddharth walks into a set and does not just check the lights and the lenses; he checks in on the people. The makeup artist blending colors, the sound engineer tweaking decibels, the producer perfecting the pace--he notices them, he acknowledges them. He ensures meals are had, water is sipped, comfort is provided, care is taken. He understands what too many in power forget--that the best work happens when people feel valued. He is not always physically present, but his presence lingers. A message sent at the right moment, a call placed with precise intent, a gentle nudge, a firm directive--he is the unseen conductor of this symphony, the architect of alignment, the master of making things happen. He does not demand the spotlight; he ensures it lands exactly where it should. And yet, brilliance often comes at a cost. Siddharth works too hard, cares too deeply, stretches himself too thin. His body has sent its warnings, his heart has faltered in protest, and yet, he pushes forward, as if rest is a luxury he cannot afford. Even today, as he readies himself for an angiograph, his mind is elsewhere--on the set, on the show, on the guests arriving, on the moments yet to be made. He has left me notes. He has made requests. Take pictures, capture videos, remind them that I am their biggest fan, he says. Even when he should be pausing, he is propelling. Even when he should be resting, he is reaching out. This is not just about Siddharth. This is about all of us. About how we live, how we work, how we pour ourselves into what we do. About how easy it is to forget that passion must be paired with preservation, that commitment cannot come at the cost of care. He is a mirror, reflecting the best and worst of our relentless pursuit of purpose. A reminder that dedication must not demand self-destruction, that even the most brilliant minds must rest, that even the most giving souls must receive. And so, today, as he lies on that hospital bed, I hope for him what I hope for all who give too much, too often--I hope he heals. I hope he slows down, if only for a breath, if only for a beat. I hope he remembers that the world will wait, that the show will go on, that his presence, his energy, his essence, are needed not just in the making of things, but in the quiet, in the stillness, in the moments in between. Siddharth Venkataraman is not just a man in media. He is a movement. A force. A presence that lifts, that steadies, that inspires. He is the kind of professional the world needs more of. The kind of human being we should all strive to be. And so, to him, I send more than good wishes. I send gratitude, admiration, respect. May his heart grow stronger. May his body align with his unbreakable spirit. May he continue to make, to mold, to move mountains. And may we all take from him the lessons of living with passion, working with integrity, and giving with an open heart. Here's to Siddharth, to stories, to substance. To a life well-lived and a career well-loved. And to all of us, learning, still learning, how to balance the brilliance with the breath, the drive with the downtime, the passion with the pause. (ANI / Suvir Saran) Disclaimer: Suvir Saran is a Masterchef, Author, Hospitality Consultant And Educator. The views expressed in this article are his own.
|
