Mehta on the Map - Tracing the Human Side of HR

In the world of talent management and organizational development, we are often expected to be the architects of certainty. We are hired to provide the "Right" framework, the "Correct" competency model, and the "Perfect" succession plan. We walk into rooms with decks full of data and graphs, hoping that the sheer volume of our research will silence the inherent messiness of human behavior. But lately, I’ve been reflecting on the power of a phrase we rarely use in a boardroom: "I don’t know." I remember sitting in a high-stakes meeting recently where the leadership was discussing a significant drop in morale within a specific department. They looked at engagement scores, they analyzed exit interview word clouds, and they compared salary benchmarks. Everyone had a theory. Everyone had a "fix." When it was my turn to speak, I felt the familiar pressure to provide a polished, strategic answer. But as I looked at the data, I realized it didn...

 In my work at TVRLS, I spend a significant amount of time looking at data. We look at competency scores, 360-degree feedback trends, and psychometric profiles. Data is comforting; it provides a map in the often-foggy landscape of human behavior. But lately, I’ve been thinking about what happens in the margins of that data—the things people don't say in an assessment, but show in every other way. I recently observed a high-potential leader during a simulation. On paper, his scores were near perfect. He was decisive, strategic, and articulate. But throughout the day, I noticed how he held his breath before answering a difficult question, and how he checked his phone with a specific kind of urgency every time there was a two-minute break. When we finally sat down for the feedback session, I didn't start with the scores. I asked, "What’s been weighing on you lately?" There was a long silence—the kind of silence I’ve learned to respect in consulting. Then, he admitted th...

In talent and OD work, most people notice the final outcome — a smooth assessment center, a well-run workshop, a report that captures someone’s leadership story. But what often goes unseen is the quiet craft behind it, the slow and patient work that makes all of it possible. A lot of my day doesn’t look dramatic. It looks like sorting through behavioral data, aligning indicators, checking whether the exercises reflect real work, and making sure the systems we build aren’t just accurate, but fair. It looks like conversations with clients where they explain what’s not working in their teams, and I try to translate that into something structured without losing the human side of it. Sometimes the most meaningful moments are small. Like when a participant in an assessment writes in the feedback form, “The exercises felt real.” Or when a client says, “This finally helps us understand where our people are struggling.” Most people never see the hours that go into getting those things right. ...

In HR consulting, especially at my level, most of the work doesn’t happen in the spotlight. It happens quietly, in the background, while everyone else is focused on the bigger conversations. I’ve realised that a lot of the real insight comes from simply being present in the room. You start noticing things that never make it into the formal agenda. A manager’s tired smile during an assessment. A team member who hesitates before speaking. The way a leader glances at their feedback report as if it holds something heavier than numbers. Once, during an assessment day, everything looked perfectly planned. Exercises were running smoothly, participants were engaged, and the schedule was on track. But during a short break, one participant sat by himself, tapping his pen in this restless pattern. When I asked if he needed anything, he said he was fine. Later, in his discussion, he opened up about feeling unsure in his new role. That small moment of noticing made the rest of his day make sense. T...

In consulting, especially in talent and organization development, we often talk about insight, the ability to see what others don’t. But over time, I’ve realized that insight rarely comes from talking. It usually comes from listening, and more specifically, from the silences between what people say. Early in my consulting journey, I thought credibility came from how much I could contribute in a meeting, the number of frameworks I could reference, the sharpness of my questions, the clarity of my feedback. Clients, I believed, valued consultants who spoke with confidence. And while that’s partly true, I later discovered something deeper: that some of the most powerful moments in consulting happen when you simply stay quiet. I remember sitting in a feedback debrief once with a senior leader. His 360° results were, in his words, “not surprising.” He smiled, nodded, and said all the right things. But somewhere between his words and his sighs, I sensed something else, a quiet disappointmen...

In many workplaces, responsiveness is celebrated. The manager who replies instantly, the employee who’s always reachable, the leader who never says no to a late-night call—these are often seen as signs of commitment. But somewhere along the way, “being available” has quietly become a measure of worth. When Responsiveness Replaces Effectiveness The problem is, being always available doesn’t necessarily mean being effective. In fact, it often does the opposite. Endless availability erodes focus. It creates an environment where urgent replaces important, and where depth of thought is sacrificed for speed of response. I’ve seen teams where employees hesitate to log off because their manager might send “just one more” message. The work gets done—but at the cost of energy, creativity, and eventually, trust. The Hidden Message Leaders Send When leaders are always available, they may think they’re modeling commitment. But the hidden message to their teams is: “You should be too.” Over t...