By Praveen Chandhok
There’s a line from ‘Be What You Wanna Be’ by Darin that quietly lingers long after the music fades: “Be what you wanna be…”
Simple words. Almost disarmingly so. Yet perhaps among the hardest truths to live by.
Because somewhere along the way, without quite noticing when it happened, we stop being and start performing.
We begin to curate ourselves – the way we dress, the way we speak, the way we hold a glass, sit at a table, even the way we laugh.
Not because it reflects who we are, but because it aligns with what is expected.
Think of the difference between Wimbledon and the US Open.
Same sport. Same rules. Same objective.
Yet the experience feels entirely different.
At Wimbledon, there is a quiet discipline the all-white attire, the measured applause, the elegance of tradition. Everything feels composed, almost rehearsed.
At the US Open, there is colour, noise, personality. The crowd responds freely, the players express more, and the atmosphere feels alive, uncontained.
Neither is better. Both are authentic in their own way.
But they ask for different versions of you.
And that is where the metaphor begins to speak.
Life often places us in “Wimbledon settings”-structured spaces where expectations are subtle but firm. We adjust ourselves accordingly. We smooth out the rough edges, tone down the spontaneity, and learn to carry ourselves in a way that fits.
Over time, we become so adept at adapting that we forget we are adapting at all.
We begin to believe that the version of us that fits the setting is who we truly are.
But then, there are moments unplanned, almost accidental – when we find ourselves in our own ‘US Open space.
A quiet cup of coffee with no audience.
A conversation without filters.
A burst of laughter that is not measured or restrained.
And in those moments, something shifts.
There is no effort. No self-consciousness. No need to perform.
Just presence.
That version of you the one that emerges without calculation is often the truest one.
Yet, we spend most of our lives refining the other.
It is not that we must reject structure or abandon settings like Wimbledon. There is value in discipline, in grace, in understanding context.
But the danger lies in confusing the role with the self.
In believing that who you are in a curated environment is all that you are.
The real question, then, is not how well we fit into the setting but whether we still recognise ourselves within it.
Because authenticity does not announce itself.
It does not demand attention.
It simply feels… effortless.
It is in the way you sit when no one is watching.
The way you speak when there is nothing to prove.
The way you exist when you are not trying to be seen.
The happiest version of you is rarely the most polished one.
It is the one that is at ease.
The one that laughs freely.
The one that does not adjust itself to match the room.
Just as tennis remains the same game-whether played on the manicured lawns of Wimbledon or the vibrant courts of the US Open you remain you, regardless of where you are.
The only question is: when no one is asking you to perform, who are you?
Be what you want to be.
Not what others want to see.
(Praveen Chandhok is a Proud Josephite| Entrepreneur| Socialite| Writer.)
