🚦The Day I Followed the Wrong Road

Some memories stay with you not because they were dramatic, but because they quietly changed the way you think.

This one takes me back to my early days in Delhi.

I was new to the city — learning Java at a centre in South Ex, living in Noida at my Tau Ji’s house, and commuting daily on my LML Vespa scooter.
Yes, those were the Google-Maps-less days.

Back then, if you didn’t know the route, you didn’t “search.”
You asked.

A fellow commuter.
An autorickshaw driver.
A guy selling nimbu-paani on the corner.

The people of Delhi were your map.

One evening, while riding home, I hit that kind of Delhi traffic — the kind where even walking would get you home faster.

Cars stretched ahead as far as I could see.
Bikes were wedged so tightly that even the breeze couldn’t pass.

I was stuck.

Then something caught my eye.

A few cars quietly slipped into a narrow side road and entered a residential society gate.

They looked confident.
Purposeful.
Like they knew something I didn’t.

And in that moment, I did what many of us do — both on the road and with money.

I told myself:

“These guys must know a smarter route. Let me follow them.”

So I did.

Tailgating my scooter right behind them, trusting their direction more than my own judgment.
After all, if so many people were turning, it had to be correct… right?

The first 300–400 meters felt like a masterstroke.

The traffic noise faded.
The road opened up.
I could almost taste the victory of discovering a “local’s shortcut.”

Then one car took a left — clearly towards his home.
Another slowed down near a gate.

Still, I kept following the last few vehicles marching ahead.

Until suddenly…

The road ended.

A plain, simple, unapologetic dead-end.

All those cars around me?
They were doing the exact same thing I had done:

Following the person in front, assuming he knew the way.

We all looked at each other.
Some laughed.
Some cursed.
Everyone took a U-turn.

By the time I crawled back to the main road, the standstill traffic had already moved ahead — without me.

My “shortcut” made my journey even longer.

That day, I learned something important:

Not every road people follow leads somewhere.
Some lead right back to where you started — just later than everyone else.

Every week, as an advisor, I see the same scene play out…
except it’s portfolios instead of roads.

People follow because others sound confident.

A colleague starts a “new fund” → they follow
A friend invests in a “hot stock” → they follow
Someone exits equity because “market looks risky” → they follow
A cousin buys a ULIP because “their agent recommended it” → they follow

And eventually, they discover the truth:

The person they followed had a different destination at best —
and at worst, no idea where they were going either.

Just like those cars in that society lane.

Instead of asking:

The smarter question is:

“Where does this road lead — for me?”

Because unlike traffic, money doesn’t move in one lane for everyone.

Your needs, goals, savings capacity, time horizon, fears, responsibilities — all are uniquely yours.

So your route must be too.

A shortcut in traffic costs a few minutes.

A shortcut in money can cost you:

Following someone else’s route blindly is the quickest way to a financial dead-end.

That day, stuck in Delhi’s maze of roads, I learned a lifelong lesson:

The crowd doesn’t always know the way.
And shortcuts are rarely shortcuts.

Your financial journey deserves:

clarity,
direction,
and your own map…

not someone else’s.

So the next time you feel lost, tempted, or ready to follow the next “smart-looking” car, just pause and ask:

“Where is this road going — for me?”

If you’re tired of following the crowd and want a financial roadmap that actually fits your life, I’m here to help.
Let’s sit together for 15 minutes and make sure the road you’re on leads exactly where you want to go.

👉 Book a quick clarity call: https://wealthwisher.in/book-a-call