Some days in life feel like turning points—not because of grand events, but because of the people you meet and the conversations you carry back with you. Today was one such day.

I had the privilege of attending a lunch reception at the Indian Ambassador’s residence in Baghdad, hosted in honour of the Honourable Minister of State for External Affairs, M.J. Akbar. For me, it was a moment layered with admiration and nostalgia. Having followed his work in journalism for years, I found myself face-to-face with a personality whose words and ideas once shaped the way I saw politics and society.

M.J. Akbar’s career has been nothing short of extraordinary. From launching Sunday, India’s first weekly political news magazine, to shaping the editorial direction of The Telegraph, The Asian Age, and India Today, he has left an indelible mark on Indian journalism. His influence extends far beyond national borders; King Abdullah of Saudi Arabia once entrusted him with drafting a ten-year charter for Muslim nations—a testament to his global stature.

The ambassador’s residence was bathed in soft afternoon light, its garden manicured yet welcoming, the air filled with the mingling aromas of freshly cooked food and the faint sweetness of roses in bloom. The ambience at the ambassador’s residence was warm and inclusive. There were no speeches or rigid protocols—just the easy flow of conversation across a room filled with diplomats, dignitaries, local leaders, UN representatives, and members of the Indian business community.

Mr. Akbar blended effortlessly into this setting. There were no speeches, no stiff protocols—just genuine exchanges that felt more like conversations at a friend’s home than at a formal reception. Watching him pause, listen, and respond with warmth reminded me of the journalist I had admired: a man who valued words not for effect, but for connection.

At one point, as I spoke with Mr. Akbar, I caught myself reflecting on the arc of his journey—from launching Sunday magazine and shaping India’s newsrooms to advising global leaders. Yet in that moment, what stood out was not his résumé but his accessibility. He carried his stature lightly, engaging with the same curiosity whether he was speaking to a diplomat, a businessman, or someone like me.

The lunch, catered by DoJo’s, a local favourite run by my friend Vivekananda, was a delight. Plates of fragrant biryani and tender kebabs circulated alongside crisp salads and hummus, with saffron-tinged tea rounding off the meal. I felt a quiet pride as I watched guests from so many different walks of life relish the food, proof that good flavours, like good conversations, transcend boundaries.

Beyond the warmth of the occasion, the significance of Mr. Akbar’s visit was unmistakable. India’s growing engagement with West Asia, and particularly with Iraq—its largest crude oil supplier—is critical to our energy security and diplomatic priorities. This visit was a clear reflection of New Delhi’s commitment to strengthening ties with Baghdad at a pivotal moment in the region.

As the afternoon drew to a close, I stepped into the Baghdad sun with a mix of gratitude and quiet joy. It wasn’t just about meeting a distinguished minister—it was about experiencing the subtle power of human connection, the way a simple conversation over food can soften distances and bring worlds closer.

This day will stay with me—not for the grandeur of diplomacy, but for its intimacy. For the warmth of the setting, the flavours on the table, and the chance to share reflections with someone I had long admired.