The ad
I was a Squadron Leader, riding my bike through Bangalore, when I saw a newspaper ad. "Want to master public speaking? Come join our workshop."
I came from a village. My English was not great, and I could not speak in front of a room without falling apart. Something about the ad made me curious anyway, so I went.
That is how I met Kadri sir.
Leaving the Air Force
I joined his workshop, then Toastmasters, and something in me changed. I wanted to speak, not just within the Air Force, but on stages, to rooms full of people.
At the peak of my career in the Indian Air Force, I decided to quit. I was a course topper and a multiple award winner. If I had stayed, I would likely have gone on to become an Air Commodore. People around me were shocked. Some thought I had lost my mind, walking away from a secure, respected career for something with no guarantee at all.
Learning to speak
I did not know how to hold a microphone properly. I did not know how to speak one sentence with real confidence. A mentor stayed with me through all of it, pushing me, correcting me, and believing in something I had not fully seen in myself yet.
From there I became a memory trainer, and eventually built the career I have today: 14 Guinness World Records, and a mentalist who reads minds live on stage. Kadri sir and I are now co-authoring a book on public speaking, in Telugu.
Hold on to that person
Twenty plus years later, he still calls to check in. "How is it going? What new things are you working on?"
If you ever find a person like that in your life, someone who sees more in you than you see in yourself, hold on to them. I owe a lot of who I am today to one newspaper ad, and one man who believed a village boy with broken English could become a speaker.
First shared on LinkedIn by Squadron Leader Jayasimha.
