Change is Constant: Six degrees of Transformation
What do you do at age 42, when your wife passes away and you have a 13-year-old child? Or at any point when life throws a curveball at you? There’s no magical solution. But at the core of it all, we must always be prepared for change—whether it’s forced on us or comes from within.
I’ve always wondered what made us love each other so deeply. Why were we willing to give up our jobs, our country, and our families to move to the U.S.—a place where we had no financial security, no friends, no family, and no job?
No one will ever know the real source of our courage. But two things carried us: the emotion of love and the security of intelligence. They gave us the strength to leap—and we landed on our feet.
And what a leap it was. Every step came with challenges. After my education at IIT Mumbai, pursuing a master’s degree at Michigan State wasn’t as thrilling. Fortunately, a visit to several colleges—including MIT—paid off. Professor Elliott, a respected figure in his field, called me a month after our interview in the summer of 1976. He offered me a research assistantship.
The doors opened. I graduated, got a great job at Praxair, we had our son, Neel, bought a house, and I moved into new roles every two years. For ten years, we enjoyed a rich life—family, career, health, and happiness. What could be better?
Then the storm came. In 1993, after more than two years battling cancer, my wife passed away. I’ve remained single since then, but I embraced dating, skiing, sailing, and travel.
A few months after her death, my son and I went skiing. We needed to remind ourselves that life still had something to offer. My worst fear was that I’d fall, get hurt, and come home in a wheelchair looking foolish. We went anyway—fell, skied, and fell again—for seven days.
When does a 40-year-old with time, money, and health get to date? I found rewarding relationships, new adventures, and laughter.
Over the past eight years, I’ve watched my son transform. From parenting a child with special needs to being the proud father of an independent, talented man—his growth has been extraordinary.
He developed a mental illness in 1999 while in college. For seven years, I worked closely with him through the darkness. At first, it felt like pushing a rock uphill. But once that rock began to roll, it was deeply fulfilling to see him gain independence, move back to Los Angeles, and develop a caring, loving relationship.
That shift in my personal life paralleled my professional one. I left corporate life at Praxair—a rewarding and entrepreneurial career—to start LifeWorx. My own struggles with finding quality help at home for my son inspired this venture. LifeWorx has been transformational, and continues to grow. We’re now on the cusp of integrating home healthcare—helping families find the solutions I once searched for so desperately.
My most recent transformation? I moved from a five-bedroom house in Chappaqua to a studio in Union Square. A major downsizing—or “micro-sizing,” if you like. It didn’t quite work out, so stay tuned for what’s next.
After all these shifts, I still hope to start something entirely new. In a few years, I’d love to walk across America—the country that gave me the opportunities and freedoms I cherish. Maybe I’ll make a film about it with my son, sharing stories of ordinary, extraordinary people.
Through it all, I remain a New Yorker—spiritual at heart, a devoted yoga practitioner, and a lover of work, science, engineering, and the people around me.
