Hi there. 

My name is Tanveer. It means ‘lightning’. My grandma gave it to me. 

I’m originally from the South of India from a coastal city named Chennai (formerly Madras), a land of rice, spice, and everything nice. To those who know, it is the home base of Royal Enfield motorcycles and the place where the only thing that tops the warmth of its people is the warmth in the weather (45°C summers). We speak a dialect of Tamil called “madras baasha”, dislike identity politics, encourage those who fight institutional oppression, have the best club cricket team in the world (fight me), and metaphorically lose our minds at the sight of two outsiders who have become our very own. 

Also, hindi theriyadhu poda.

I am one of the million reluctant engineers from my home city, who then decided (like the same million) to follow a path away from applied mathematics, mass transfer, and thermodynamics. This led me towards a failed attempt at joining the Indian diplomatic services but the experience was enough to help identify the things I don’t want to become. Sometimes knowing what you don’t want to do can be a blessing in itself. 

In the search to find what I actually want to do, I did a Masters in Indian and European Sociology exploring caste and class mobility across the 2 regions. I also explored the importance of culture as an instrument to permeate and prolong hierarchies and the dominace of certain ideological groups. Post studying about grass root societies, I worked in political consulting at grass root level  to experience first-hand what I had learned and recall several instances from my life when those around me were discriminated and I stood there in complete ignorance. I later moved to a comfy armchair office where I worked Digital Communication for politicians, where amidst other things, I wrote speeches and absolutely loved that part of my job. 

Facing the truth that a longevity of a legislation often outlasts the lifespan of a politician, I decided to switch focus from politics and pursue a degree in policy instead. This brought me to the city of Berlin, Germany, where I spent 4 glorious years fueled by döner kebabs, club mates, chatting with my späti guy, swimming off Alt-Stralau, and getting on stage with a poem or a story in some dinghy bar in Neukölln. But most importantly it is where I unlearned and re-learned everything about myself and the world around me. Kreuzberg will always be my home in this part of the world and with friends aplenty always welcoming me back with open arms and comfy couches, it is safe to say that ich hab’ noch einen Koffer in Berlin.

I made my way to the Brussels Bubble in late 2021 at the onset of wave 3 of the pandemic. After cutting my teeth at consulting firms for 2 years experiencing the  challenges of public affairs, facing racism in its implicit and explicit forms, graduating cum laude in (yet another) a Masters in European Competition law to prove to people who said I could never work in the Brussels Bubble because I am not European, and dealing with the labyrinth that is Belgian bureaucracy, I’ve learned through experience that akin to skills, trauma is also transferable. But seriously, don’t we all need therapy? Hozier and John Mayer can’t fix everything now, can’t they? 

After having some long conversations with the therapists I have paid for and those who do it cause they signed up for this (thank you, mom, BFFs) I ensured no trauma was transferred to my current workpalce where I work as a lobbyist for the auto industry with a nurturing boss, great colleagues, and a fulfilling environment. Alhamdulillah, as those of a certain faith would say.

Besides my academic interests, I am a curious individual that believes that knowledge is more valuable than instinct. In pursuit of this curiosity, I’ve watched too many documentaries on European art movements, haute-coture, jiu-jitsu, and classical  piano music. I thoroughly enjoy food and writing about and hope to resume that hobby again in Brussels. And of course, if I see you in person, it is a certainty that I will judge you based on the watch you are wearing. And I hope you are at least wearing one. 

Brussels is beginning to leave its mark on me as I find my routine, my face to call home, and immense comfort in knowing that there’s a cute dog in Scharbeek that’s sitting by the balcony, looking to see if the man getting off the motorbike is me. So resuming this blog is an effort to make a smal digital corner of the world for myself, curating and chronicling my journey as I work and play in Brussels.