In the world of corporate storytelling, Anirudh Sanjeev has spent close to two decades mastering the message. From his early days at The Times of India to shaping narratives for brands like BMW, AWS, Wipro etc. He’s worn many hats—communications strategist, brand whisperer, and sales lead across some of India’s most influential media and PR networks.
But beneath the sharp suits and strategy decks was a man driven by something deeper—purpose, reinvention, and resilience. What makes Anirudh’s story truly compelling is how he chose to walk away from the comfort of multinational giants to carve his path across diverse markets and facets of the communication industry—all while staying rooted in his values every step of the way. Along the way, he led the team of Crafting Bharat, a podcast that bridges grassroots voices with boardroom wisdom, and completed a 4,000-km solo motorcycle ride to explore mental health and solitude.
In this exclusive Q&A, Anirudh opens up about masculinity in 2025, the pressure to “provide,” and why vulnerability might be the most important leadership trait men still underestimate.
As men, we’re often conditioned to prioritize stability over risk. What gave you the courage to walk away from a corporate job and start from scratch?
Transitioning from a multinational company to a startup wasn’t an easy decision, but it felt like the right one. I reached out to the founder myself because I genuinely believed that this new environment could help me rediscover and stretch my potential. There was a part of me that still had more to offer—something I hadn’t been able to fully express before. It was about moving from comfort to growth.
How do you personally define masculinity in today’s world?
To me, masculinity lies in staying calm—until there’s a real reason not to be. We often confuse ego with instinct. Real strength comes from knowing the difference. Most men were never taught how to be vulnerable. That’s where it all begins—healing that fragility and learning how to respond with intention instead of impulse.
A lot of men struggle silently with burnout. How do you deal with pressure without losing yourself?
Pressure can come from anywhere—expectations, perfectionism, lack of boundaries. I’ve learned to anchor myself with a simple reminder: “I can make it through this.” That mindset doesn’t erase the problem, but it helps me face it.
Avoiding burnout is about knowing what’s within your control and where you need help. And as men, we need to check in on each other more. Even one honest conversation can make a difference. We’ve got to build emotional support systems that aren’t just reactive but intentional.
There’s a cultural belief that men must be “providers” first. Has that mindset ever conflicted with your own growth?
Yes, and I think many men feel this. Being a provider is noble, but when it becomes your only identity, it can create inner conflict. I try to ask myself one question: If I choose not to do this, will I still sleep peacefully tonight? If the answer is yes, I look for another way. But if it’s no, I do what’s needed. That balance—between responsibility and peace of mind—is what I try to maintain.
You’ve spoken openly about mental health. What finally made you stop pretending everything was “fine”?
There wasn’t one dramatic turning point. It was a slow buildup—small triggers that eventually led to a breakdown. One specific moment was when I gave my all to something at work, hoping for recognition, and it never came. That hurt more than I expected.
I left—not out of anger, but self-respect. Since then, I’ve promised myself I’ll never stay in a space that doesn’t honour my worth. It’s okay to not be okay. It’s okay to walk away. And it’s absolutely okay to start again.
How do you balance ambition with vulnerability, especially in male-dominated environments?
Ambition and vulnerability are not opposites. They both come from passion. Ambition drives focus; vulnerability demands emotional intelligence. I allow myself to feel, understand, and release emotions—then return to work with clarity. Vulnerability isn’t weakness; it’s awareness. And without that, even ambition becomes hollow.
What advice would you give to men in their 30s stuck in jobs that pay well but feel empty?
Make time for the things that make you feel alive. If you believe in something—even a little—trust it. Start small if you need to. Just begin. One quiet commitment to yourself can change everything. This energy, this moment—it won’t come again.
Many men today are questioning what success really means. Has success ever felt like a trap to you?
It hasn’t felt like a trap—but only because I’ve redefined it for myself. For me, success means being able to fulfil my family’s needs and still sleep with a peaceful mind. That’s all. It’s not about how loud your achievements are. It’s about how quietly you can live with them.
Brotherhood and mentorship among men often goes unspoken. Who has shaped your journey?
I’ve been lucky to grow alongside remarkable men—my brothers Siddharth and Satyajit; my ex bosses Ranjith Sir and Nijeesh, and my friend and colleague Nahash. Each of them has taught me something vital. If I had to name a public figure who’s influenced me deeply, it would be M.S. Dhoni—for his stillness, leadership, and grace under pressure.
If you could rewrite the rulebook on Indian masculinity, what would you remove—and what would you keep?
I’d remove the idea that men shouldn’t cry. That’s outdated and damaging. Emotions are not gendered. If anything, the ability to express them is a strength.
What I’d keep is this: Stay calm until truly provoked. There’s power in stillness, and even more in knowing when to act.
Anirudh’s story offers self-reflection without performative noise. From corporate boardrooms to creative side-hustles, solo rides to self-check-ins, he’s building a life led by purpose, not pressure.
For men navigating their own crossroads—personal, professional or emotional—his journey is a quiet reminder: resilience doesn’t always roar. Sometimes, it simply speaks with intention.
