A Father’s Note on What Really Matters in the AI Age

A letter to my daughters- mera bacchas- for a world where AI makes it harder to tell what’s real:

When I was your age, I believed expression was everything—how well you spoke, how confidently you carried yourself, how cleverly you told a story. These were the skills I chased, thinking they’d carry me to success.

They did, for a while.

But now, closer to 50, I see it differently. Expression without depth is just noise. In your world, where AI can spin polished words in seconds, this becomes even more true.

We’re moving fast—too fast, sometimes. No one stops to ask: Was this written by a person or a machine? We scroll, swipe, consume. And in that rush, there’s a trap: Why spend years learning something when AI can do it instantly?

But here’s the thing—there’s a difference between looking skilled and being skilled.

Some things still can’t be shortcut.

A doctor feels what stress does to the body. An engineer knows how materials behave in the real world. A leader senses the mood of the room, not just the words. A creator knows what will connect, because they’ve failed enough to figure it out.

These aren’t surface-level tricks. They live in your body, in your instincts, in the quiet confidence that only comes from time, failure, and real practice.

I’m not here to warn you against AI. Use it. The best of your generation will use it brilliantly. But use it from a place of real skill.

Some use AI to skip the work. Others use it to build on what they’ve already learned. That difference shows over time.

If I could go back, I’d spend more time learning how to learn.

Learn to sit with not knowing. Learn to focus, really focus. Learn to wait—it pays off.

These are the skills beneath the skills. Learn anything well, and everything else starts making sense.

I can’t tell you which careers will last. The world changes too fast for that. But I can tell you what kinds of work will always matter—the kind that stays will ask more from you—not just your head, but your heart, your hands, and your sense of what’s right.

Pick something where the process feels meaningful—not just the prize at the end.

Others will rush. They’ll look shiny, fast. Don’t chase them.

Build slowly. Stack real skills. Stay curious. Stay honest—with yourself and others—about what you truly know and what you’re just repeating.

In the end, the people with real depth will stand tallest. The rest will fade with the next version update.

You don’t need to be perfect. Not even close.

You just need to try. To care. To be honest about where you are, and where you want to go.

I promise to care more about your real growth than your perfect image. To be proud of your efforts, your experiments, even your mess-ups. And to remind you—every time you forget—that your realness is your biggest strength in a world full of filters and fakes.

My kids and mine,

Your Papa

Ps: and I am happy when both guide me whether on Canva or a new update in AI world. :)