At the Helm - A Note from Kiran

On eight years of practice, possibility, and people who help people.

There’s a term I’ve come to use over the years: helming. Not just as a nod to the name we chose in 2017, but as a way of describing a certain acumen of leadership. Helming isn’t about having all the answers or being in charge. It’s about how we wield the wheel, especially when the waters are uncertain and the journey unknown. It’s about showing up with presence, perspective, and responsibility across roles, across systems, across relationships.

In many ways, that’s what the last eight years have been: learning how to Helm. With care, with clarity, and to progress together.

Helm of Eight began as a small experiment, more a gathering than an organisation. I had just returned to India after working my way through the classical liberal ecosystem, having the knowledge but not degree in public policy, unsure of exactly what I wanted to build, but clear that I wanted to create something rooted in community, rigour, and relationships. The earliest version of Helm wasn’t a consulting firm or a venture studio, it was an incubator of itself. It was a series of dialogues, workshops, and reflection circles, held under trees, in living rooms, in restaurants and sometimes in silence.

We believed that conversation could be a precursor of action. That holding space for people to find each other in messy, uncertain moments was, in itself, a way of building power.

But of course, ideas evolve. Helm became more than a gathering. It became a practice.

We explored what it means to work across hierarchies, sectors, and levels: from the grassroots to the policy table. Over time, the work took on different shapes. Sometimes we were anchoring strategy. Other times, communication. Sometimes we were designing governance structures. And often, we were simply holding space for reflections and leadership in transition.

Looking back, the first phase of Helm was all about possibility. The courage to try something unproven. To say yes before we were fully ready. Then came a phase of grounding, learning how to build, manage teams, and say no. After that, a stretch marked by resilience. We went through hard transitions, internally and externally, and had to relearn how to trust our voice. And now, I believe we’re in a new chapter, one of pattern recognition. A chapter where we’re drawing connections across everything we’ve seen and done, and holding the long arc of change with humility and resolve.

Along the way, I’ve been lucky to learn from people who’ve shown me how to hold complexity without losing compassion. Two mentors in particular, one spiritual, the other atheist, taught me that awareness isn’t something you find and hold, but something you integrate into daily life. That we carry the effectiveness of different forms of wealth within us, time, attention, labour, ideas, and how we use those resources, is both a political and moral choice.

This philosophy sits at the heart of Helm and continues to expand and evolve. We don’t work in just one vertical. We work across sectors, health, education, environment, livelihoods, mental health, the arts, governance, because we believe systems are interconnected. And the only way to hold that interconnection is through relationships that centre care, fairness, and shared purpose.

In the past year alone, we’ve had the privilege of working with Startups, NGOs, Businesses, Corporates, consortiums and network collectives.. We’ve co-led platforms, projects and facilitated trust between unlikely partners, held space for organisational transitions, and invested deeply in young leaders. We’ve done this quietly, often behind the scenes, because that’s where some of the most important work happens.

We’ve also held space for reflection. Through this very newsletter, we’ve tried to think aloud in public. With honesty, curiosity, and imperfection. And you’ve stayed with us. You’ve replied, questioned, nudged, and reminded us that this isn’t a broadcast, it’s a conversation. One rooted in solidarity.

Because the truth is, no matter how much the work changes, one thing remains: it is always people who carry it forward. Not frameworks. Not decks. People. With their full selves, their doubts, courage, contradictions, and care.

To helm, then, is not to steer alone. It is to take collective responsibility while staying in relationship with the discovery, risks and rewards of the journey. To navigate with intent and integrity, not from a place of control or superiority, but of commitment to bring out the best in ideas, people, projects and organised environments.

As we mark the completion of eight years of Helm, and commencing our next cycle of 8 years, I want to say thank you. Thank you for being part of this practice. Whether you’re someone we’ve worked with directly, someone who’s walked beside us in thought, or someone just getting to know us, your presence matters. The work ahead will only grow more complex. But so will our capacity. Our clarity. Our community.

Here’s to the next cycle. Of dreaming, building, and learning together.

With gratitude,
Kiran