Happy Birthday—or rather, be hale on your birthday.
This is not a conventional birthday wish, nor is it meant to be. What follows is a reflection—on wisdom, on perspective, and on the kind of understanding that only time and lived experience can shape.
Potti Tatagaru, I wish you the happiest birthday.
I take great pride in wishing you today, not because of the titles you have held or the positions you have occupied, but because of the clarity of thought you carry. Even a brief interaction with you has the ability to leave one thinking deeply—about the country, its direction, and the quiet gaps between where it stands and where it once aspired to be.
Though my interaction with you was short and took place in a group, that one hour of conversation has stayed with me and will continue to reside in some part of my mind. It compelled me to reflect on where this country is headed, where it needs correction, and how the responsibility of shaping its future inevitably rests with the so-called younger generation. It pushed me to question accepted narratives and to look beyond what is immediately visible—to search for the larger story beneath the surface, much like how the visible tip of an iceberg fades in significance when compared to what lies beneath.
At this point, I must pause to express my gratitude to our careful interpreter and panelist—your dear brother, my Ratnam Tatagaru. I do not believe we would have had such enriching debates or an exchange of ideas and perspectives had it not been for his constant and timely efforts in guiding the flow of the conversation, much like a dam that ensures stability and direction amidst a rigorous current of words and facts.
That moment of exchange altered the way I think. It introduced a far more complex lens through which I now view not just the national ideology and the intended goals for the nation, but also my own assumptions and beliefs. Such conversations are rare today, and their true value is often realized only much later—much like how historical powers came to understand the cost of their decisions only after it was too late.
There is also a small, personal reason behind the name Potti Tatagaru. As a child, I was often called potti with affection by you. Somewhere along the way, almost instinctively, the name found its way back to you—and it stayed. What began as a simple childhood reflex has since become a term of familiarity and warmth.
In times when wisdom is often overshadowed by noise, your thoughts stand out for their depth and restraint. They remind us that progress is not merely about speed or change, but about an understanding of history, intent, and consequence.
On your birthday, I wish you continued good health and strength. More than that, I hope that conversations like the one I was fortunate to witness continue to shape my thinking—quietly, deeply, and meaningfully.
Thank you.
Be hale, Tatagaru.
