There is something strangely satisfying about meeting someone whom you've known only as a tiny circular profile picture on LinkedIn.
It almost never happens.
Social media has conditioned us to collect connections rather than build them. We exchange likes, occasionally comments, perhaps a congratulatory message when someone changes jobs. Then the algorithm quietly takes over and the relationship slowly fades into another familiar name in the feed.
Last week, one such connection walked into my life.
His name is Alexander Gomes.
Our "connection" actually happened a few years ago.
When Livewise was first launched publicly, the three of us, Gaurav Bhola, Mohit Jindal and I, were excited but also uncertain.
The initial users were exactly who you would expect them to be: friends, colleagues and friends of friends. They were encouraging, supportive and generous with compliments. But there was always an uncomfortable question in the back of my mind.
"Would someone who doesn't know us, doesn't know our story and owes us nothing, still find value in this idea?"
Alex was among the first people to answer that question.
None of us knew him.
He somehow discovered Livewise on LinkedIn, installed it on his own, explored it carefully and started sharing thoughtful feedback. That mattered much more than he probably realised because it was the first truly unbiased validation we had received.
Over the years we occasionally exchanged messages on LinkedIn. I enjoyed reading his posts, particularly those related to finance, retirement planning and policy changes. We had never spoken on a phone call. We had certainly never imagined meeting.
Last week began with something completely ordinary.
Alex had written a post explaining the latest EPF changes.
I found it informative enough to read further, understood the policy in greater detail, and eventually wrote a LinkedIn post of my own. Before publishing it, I requested Alex to review it for accuracy.
That small interaction revived our conversation.
Then came the coincidence.
He casually mentioned that he would be in Bengaluru for just one day.
More surprisingly, he was staying barely ten minutes away from my office.
Now Bengaluru is a city where saying "Let's catch up sometime" can easily translate into "Maybe next year." Distances here are measured less in kilometres and more in traffic signals.
This opportunity felt too good to ignore.
We met over filter coffee.
And what I expected to be a quick thirty-minute conversation quietly stretched into a few hours.
The discussion wandered almost effortlessly from AI to branding, startups, product design, marketing, digital identity and life in general.
One thing stood out immediately.
Curiosity.
Here was someone with decades of professional experience, yet he was introducing me to AI tools I hadn't explored.
He recommended apps for editing videos.
He suggested experimenting with short-form content.
He spoke about digital presence as something every professional should consciously cultivate rather than accidentally accumulate.
At one point he looked at my LinkedIn profile picture and laughed.
"You look much more professional in person than on LinkedIn."
I laughed too.
Over the weekend I finally updated my profile picture.
Sometimes the simplest advice is also the easiest to postpone.
But our conversation soon moved beyond profile pictures.
Alex believes that trust is built slowly.
Not through one viral post.
Not through paid influencers.
Not through clever marketing tricks.
But by consistently showing up for years.
That idea stayed with me.
As software engineers we often think in terms of features, releases and version numbers.
Perhaps personal credibility follows a very different release cycle.
Another thought he shared has remained with me ever since.
He said we shouldn't think of building products as charity.
At first that sounded counter-intuitive.
But as he explained further, it made perfect sense.
Build something genuinely valuable.
Charge for it honestly.
Create wealth ethically.
And then decide how that wealth can serve others.
There is dignity in creating value.
There is also dignity in allowing that value to sustain itself.
I found that perspective remarkably balanced.
Naturally, the discussion kept returning to Livewise.
He appreciated the fact that the app helps people organise their financial information while they are alive.
But what resonated most with him was its promise.
That if something unfortunate happens, the information reaches the people who need it most.
Hearing someone outside our immediate circle articulate that value so clearly gave me renewed confidence that we are solving a real problem.
As founders, we inevitably become emotionally attached to our ideas.
Conversations like these help us separate conviction from confirmation.
When we finally stood up to leave, I realised I hadn't just met a LinkedIn connection.
I had met someone whose curiosity remained wonderfully intact.
Age has a strange way of becoming irrelevant when curiosity refuses to retire.
If anything, that afternoon reminded me that staying current has very little to do with the year on your birth certificate.
It has everything to do with whether you are still willing to learn.
Alex, thank you for the coffee, the conversation, the encouragement and, perhaps most importantly, the honest feedback over all these years.
Also...
Thank you for convincing me to finally change that LinkedIn profile picture.
Guess it was long overdue.
Sometimes social media is just another app. And sometimes, it introduces you to people who feel strangely familiar the moment you meet them.
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