I am not interested in the technology business, at least not in

Roshni Nadar, heir to a legacy of innovation and stewardship, once declared with clarity: “I am not interested in the technology business, at least not in getting hands-on.” At first glance, these words may seem surprising, even paradoxical, for she stands as the leader of one of India’s most powerful technology enterprises. Yet her declaration holds within it a profound truth: that leadership need not always be rooted in technical craft, but can find its strength in vision, direction, and the stewardship of purpose.

The technology business is often imagined as the realm of coders, engineers, and inventors, where greatness is measured by how deep one’s hands dive into circuits and algorithms. Yet Nadar reminds us that there are other kinds of mastery, equally vital. She does not claim to shape technology with her own hands, but to guide those who do, to ensure their work aligns with higher ideals, with the needs of people, and with the survival of the enterprise itself. In her words lies the ancient division between those who forge the sword and those who decide when and why it should be drawn.

History offers us many parallels. Consider Queen Elizabeth I, who did not sail ships nor fire cannons, but whose rule steered England into an age of exploration and power. She did not wield the tools of the sailor, yet her decisions gave them purpose. Or reflect upon Alexander the Great, who did not personally craft the weapons of his army, yet whose vision for conquest united countless artisans, engineers, and strategists under one destiny. In the same way, Nadar acknowledges that while she may not be “hands-on” in technology, she is deeply engaged in the destiny it serves.

Her words also remind us that interest takes many forms. To say she is not “hands-on” does not mean she is absent or indifferent. Rather, it reveals her clarity about where her talents lie. Just as a conductor may not play every instrument in the orchestra, yet creates harmony through guidance, so too does she see her role as one of leadership, direction, and balance. This humility—to admit where one is not inclined, and to embrace where one is strong—is itself a kind of wisdom often missing in leaders who seek to control everything.

Yet in her statement, there is also a quiet challenge to our age: we too easily worship the tools and forget the greater vision. The technology business is not only about coding and machinery; it is about what such tools make possible—education, health, empowerment, and transformation. A leader like Nadar looks beyond the code to the lives it touches, beyond the business to the generations it shapes. In so doing, she elevates her role from technician to guardian, from operator to architect.

The lesson for us is plain: do not be ashamed if your strengths do not lie in the “hands-on” mastery of tools. There is honor in craft, but also in vision. The world needs both the builders and the dreamers, the craftsmen and the leaders. If you are not skilled with the instrument, perhaps you are the one meant to compose the song. If you cannot carve the stone, perhaps you are the one destined to design the temple. The secret lies in knowing yourself, as Nadar knows herself, and dedicating your gifts to the service of others.

Therefore, O seekers of wisdom, take her words not as withdrawal, but as reminder: greatness does not always come from touching every detail. Sometimes it comes from lifting one’s gaze, from guiding many hands toward a single purpose, from seeing not just the machine, but the humanity it must serve. Walk then in your own path with courage, whether it is the path of the builder or the path of the leader. For when each man and woman honors their true calling, the world is enriched, and the future is secured.