Celebrating My First National Authors Day — A Journey from Numbers to Narratives

 

Today, on 1st November 2025, I celebrate something deeply personal and life-changing — my first National Authors Day. This year, I step into a new identity with the release of my first book, Memoirs of a CA – Aap Toh CA Hain. Holding that book in my hands for the first time remains one of the most humbling and empowering moments of my life.

For decades, I lived the structured and disciplined life of a Chartered Accountant — filled with numbers, audits, boardrooms, and responsibilities. It was a fulfilling journey, but somewhere inside me existed another world — a world made of emotions, reflections, and unspoken stories. Writing this book helped me give those stories a voice.

That’s why National Authors Day means so much to me. It is not merely a date on the calendar; it’s a celebration of courage, creativity, and connection. It reminds me that everyone — not just authors — has a story worth sharing. Becoming an author has taught me that the true measure of life isn’t just in balance sheets or achievements, but in the hearts we touch and the experiences we share.

I celebrate this day with my family, friends, colleagues, and readers — because this journey is not mine alone. My wife, children, and well-wishers have been my pillars of strength, supporting me at every step. Though my parents are no more, I feel their blessings guiding me in every moment of this journey. My colleagues and students have watched me evolve from a professional who shared knowledge to a storyteller who shares life lessons. Their belief in me keeps me grounded and grateful every single day.

My author journey becomes possible only because of a few incredible people and organizations who stood beside me and made this dream come true. I express my heartfelt gratitude to Alke Advisors, who not only published this book but also managed everything — from operations to finance, from backend support to complete handholding. Their professionalism, trust, and guidance made this process smooth and deeply rewarding.

A very special thank you to Mr. Prakash Arya and the entire team at Rosemary Interactive, the creative force behind this incredible journey. Their passion, attention to detail, and unwavering commitment brought the book to life in ways I had only imagined. My gratitude also goes to Mr. Rituraj Kapila and his company, whose craftsmanship and dedication turned my manuscript into a beautifully printed book that I am proud to hold. And my sincere appreciation to Shopperpreneur, our digital sales partner, for ensuring this book reaches every reader who believes in dreams and stories. Each of you has been a part of my transformation — and I am forever thankful.

Since becoming an author, my view of life and work has completely transformed. Being in profession, I now see stories hidden behind every client interaction, every business challenge, and every financial journey. I see emotions behind numbers and human lessons behind every success and struggle. Writing has not just changed my career — it has changed my perspective, my purpose, and my connection with people.

National Authors Day reminds me — and all of us — to honor our stories. It’s an opportunity to share, inspire, and connect. I encourage everyone to celebrate this day with friends, family, and colleagues — because when we share our stories, we share our souls.

My message is simple: You don’t need to be a writer to write. You just need to be honest. Your journey matters. Your words can inspire, uplift, and transform someone’s life.

Today, I don’t just celebrate being an author — I celebrate the power of storytelling, the warmth of gratitude, and the joy of connection. Because sometimes, the most beautiful stories aren’t written in ink — they are written from the heart.

Written by:

 CA Sanjivv Shiv Kapoor

 

Innovating with Intent, Learning through Life

 Colour Coding: Order in a Chaotic World

When I began my CA journey in 1989, our profession was grounded in ledgers, files, and

mountains of paperwork. It was a time when even the idea of digital storage seemed far-fetched. In

that environment, efficiency wasn’t a luxury—it was a necessity born out of sheer volume and

pressure.

After careful observation and internal discussions, we adopted a colour coding system to simplify our physical filing. Green for audit, blue for income tax, and orange for general files. It may

seem rudimentary today, but back then, it made a world of difference. Our shelves were no longer

chaotic chaos; they became structured repositories of knowledge and order.

With the evolution of technology, we carried this concept forward into the digital era. Excel replaced registers, and our screens replaced files—but the colours remained. We used colour coding to represent client categories, work types, deadlines, and red flags. A splash of colour,

thoughtfully applied, brought not just clarity but also a kind of aesthetic discipline to our work. It

wasn’t just about function—it was about forming a process that aligned with clarity, creativity, and

consistency.

A CA for Life – The Journey, the Legacy, the Flame

When I look back at my professional journey of 36 years, it becomes emotional—like a vivid picture flashing before my eyes. Each frame tells a story. Each moment, a memory. This journey was not just about balance sheets and audits—it was about passion, purpose, and pride. And at the very heart of it was a name that transformed everything: ICAI – The Institute of Chartered Accountants of India.

The ICAI Legacy: A Dream Cast in Stone

The ICAI was born on 1st July 1949 through an Act of the Indian Parliament. This historic

step gave the ICAI legal status and established the chartered accountant’s critical role in India’s

financial architecture. Our founder CA members laid the strongest possible foundation—one that

would raise an institution that today stands head and shoulders above its global peers. They gave us a rigorous system of education and training that brought forth professionals par excellence.

Over the years, ICAI has evolved with the times, revising its curriculum, training modules,

and perspectives to stay aligned with the ever-shifting economic environment. The Institute

became the torchbearer of India’s financial backbone, not only building it but also constantly reinforcing it.  Continuous learning became a hallmark—regular seminars, refresher courses, and new opportunities carved the path for Chartered Accountants to grow, diversify, and lead.

From just a few to almost four lakh CAs today, the ICAI has nurtured a breed of professionals

who reflect excellence and integrity. An average of 5,300 CAs qualify each year, a testament to

the difficult path and the impeccable standards maintained. An institution that has never faltered

in holding its examinations, regardless of circumstance—what an inspiring record!

To the ICAI, I owe sincere gratitude for creating a legacy and upholding it with relentless

commitment

The Vow of Arjuna – A Lesson in Focus, Faith, and Guidance

 There are moments in life that are so profoundly transformative that they become etched in your soul forever. For me, one such moment comes from the Mahabharata, a story I have revisited countless times, each time uncovering new layers of wisdom. 

It’s a chapter that has taught me lessons I live by today—especially the one that centers around

Arjuna’s vow, Krishna’s guidance, and the lesson of staying true to one’s path despite the many distractions that life throws at us. 

The story begins with a tragedy that shakes Arjuna to his very core. His beloved son, Abhimanyu, a young warrior full of promise, is cruelly slain in battle by the Kauravas. The manner in which he is trapped and killed is almost too painful to imagine, and as a father, Arjuna’s grief knows no bounds. But in that grief, something fierce and primal awakens in him—a vow, one fueled by pure rage. Arjuna swears that he will kill Jayadratha, the man who played a key role in trapping Abhimanyu, before the sun sets the next day. If he fails, he will end his own life.

This vow, impulsive and filled with raw emotion, reminds me of how often we act in anger or

frustration, making promises in the heat of the moment without truly understanding the consequences. In those moments, we think we are showing strength, but in truth, such vows can become a burden, one that can blind us to reason and lead us astray. Arjuna’s vow is born from a deep well of pain, but as we’ll see, it is also a reflection of human nature at its most vulnerable.

The Kauravas, ever cunning, anticipate Arjuna’s vow and lay out a trap. They place Jayadratha

at the farthest edge of the battlefield, surrounded by the fiercest warriors, hoping to ensure that

Arjuna will never reach him in time. The plan is simple—if Arjuna cannot fulfill his vow, he will

surely kill himself, and the Kauravas will have won.

But Arjuna, fueled by his vow, rushes to battle the next day, determined to face whatever challenges come his way. He turns to Krishna for guidance, urging him to hurry and take him to Jayadratha’s location. But Krishna, ever calm and collected, does something that at first seems strange to Arjuna. He smiles and asks, “Why such hurry?

Moments That Matter

 As an author, there are moments when the words of friends and colleagues resonate more deeply than any book or story could. The feedback and testimonials from those who have shared their lives and experiences with me not only offer a glimpse into the impact I’ve had on others but also serve as powerful reminders of the lessons I’ve learned through the relationships I’ve fostered. Recently, I was humbled by the reflections shared by a close friend who took the time to answer questions about our friendship, and I believe their responses paint a portrait of the bond we share.

Here’s a summary of their answers, and how they impact me as a person and as an author.

My Journey of Friendship with Puneet 

As I read through Puneet’s words—each sentence wrapped in nostalgia, warmth, and unfiltered honesty—I find myself both humbled and overwhelmed. It’s not every day that life blesses

You with a friend who remembers your journey better than you do. From our first hesitant steps 

into Class I at St. Xavier’s, to weathering the many tides of life together, this friendship has truly been one of life’s finest blessings. 

Puneet, your memory is as sharp as your heart is large. You’ve captured the innocence of our

childhood, the spirit of our adventures, and the essence of what binds us even after more than five

decades. From the backseat of a Maruti van under the Sariska stars, to the soulful silences we shared after losing loved ones—each recollection brought back not just moments, but feelings long tucked away.

The Path Less Travelled: A Journey into the World of Chartered Accountancy

 From a young age, the path of becoming a Chartered Accountant (CA) seemed like a natural progression for me. It was never really a choice—it was the thing to do. My father, a practicing CA, and my uncle, a CA as well, had set such high standards in the profession. They carried with them an air of confidence, a depth of knowledge, and a level of respect that surrounded them. I wanted that.

Their influence on me was profound, and I knew that I wanted to follow in their footsteps,

not just because they were successful, but because they were admired for their integrity and expertise. I graduated from St. Xavier’s School in 1984, and by November of that year, I was preparing for the CA entrance exams. I cleared it in January 1985, and shortly after, I joined my father’s firm. to begin my training. Between the entrance and my final exams, I was also pursuing my B.Com (Hons) from Delhi University by correspondence. I qualified as a CA in January 1989, at the age of twenty-three and a half, a moment of pride I’ll never forget.

In those early years, I immersed myself in the core areas of auditing, corporate taxation, internal

audits, designing accounting systems, and international taxation. These became the foundations

of my practice.

Over the years, my role as a CA has evolved dramatically. I remember when everything was

still done manually—be it accounting or taxation. Computers were a rarity. But then came the

shift—computers, email, and the internet changed everything. From manual to digital accounting,

from faxing documents to sending emails, we witnessed a technological revolution.

The transition from desktop to mobile, the advent of social media, and the introduction of digital

signatures—these were just a few examples of how the profession evolved. It was not just the tools

that changed, but the laws, and the very way we conducted business. I had to stay updated, and keep my clients updated, through the constant changes in technology and legal regulations. 

Family – The Sanctuary Beyond Numbers

 

People often ask me, “How have you managed to balance the relentless demands of being a Chartered Accountant? " And with the equally profound responsibilities of family life?” And I’ve always believed that balance isn’t found—it’s created, choice by choice, moment by moment.

From the very beginning, I made one thing non-negotiable: When I come home, I truly come

home. Whatever stress the day brings, whatever deadlines loom, they’re left outside the door.

I often describe it as the gardener’s story—an old parable where a gardener would hang his problems on a tree outside his home before entering, so he could greet his family with a light heart and full attention. I do the same. My clients, my files, my worries—they all wait patiently outside. I pick them up again the next morning. Yes, there are exceptions. There have been times—month ends, audits, tax season—when I’ve had to blur the line. Client calls during dinner, urgent decisions during family time. But I’ve tried my best to keep such moments minimal. And thankfully, my family has always understood that this is not just my work—it’s my calling.

While I may speak often about “balance,” I’ve always drawn a clear line between my profession and my personal life. No one in the family is involved in my business, and that’s intentional.

I’ve never wanted to turn the dinner table into a boardroom or expect my loved ones to bear the

weight of professional pressures. Instead, I’ve kept those worlds parallel—not intersecting, but running side by side. My family is my grounding, my reset button, my daily reminder of what truly matters. They give me perspective, joy, and purpose far beyond balance sheets and advisories.

Inspiration and Inner Callings

It's hard to point to a single moment from childhood and say, “That’s when I decided I wanted to become a Chartered Accountant.” For me, it was less of a decision and more of a natural inheritance, a quiet alignment of admiration, environment, and inner desire. My father, Late Shri S.P. Kapoor, was not just a CA by profession—he was a man who carried respect like a second skin. 

Whether at home, in social circles, or in professional spaces, people looked up to him. Not because he demanded attention, but because he commanded trust. His words were valued, his advice sought, and his presence invited calm—even in chaos. That kind of influence, that aura of capability, left a deep impression on me from a very young age.

In fact, my childlike fascination wasn’t limited only to real life. I used to read Phantom comics, and I was particularly drawn to the character Mozz—the old, wise man of the Bandar tribe who held a deep reservoir of knowledge and was always the Phantom’s confidant. Mozz wasn’t just informed, he was insightful, intuitive, and respected. 

In some corner of my heart, I saw a glimpse of my father in him. The same wisdom, the same gravitas. I imagined myself growing into someone like that—a trusted advisor, someone people turned to not just for technical clarity, but for guidance.  

That desire—to be dependable, knowledgeable, and balanced—took root early and found its

perfect expression in the profession of Chartered Accountancy. It’s often said that CA —it doesn’t leave much time for anything else. That’s true to a large extent. The demands of this career, especially when you’re growing a practice, leave little space to turn passions into parallel ventures. But just because a passion isn’t commercialized doesn’t mean it’s lost.

I’ve always had a deep interest in photography and occult sciences. Photography, for me, is a way

to freeze emotion—a lens through which I capture not just what I see, but what I feel. Over the years, I’ve never let go of that love, even if it had to take a backseat to balance books and tax audits. 

In recent years, I began channeling that passion into something tangible—designing desktop calendars featuring my photographs, circulated privately among close circles. It’s my way of sharing a piece of myself, beyond numbers and deadlines. 

The other passion, less visible but equally powerful, has been the study of occult sciences. Not superstition, but structured inquiry—into patterns, energies, and the deeper rhythms of life. Though I never built a business out of it, it has  given me intuition, helped me navigate tough times, and offered peace when logic alone wasn’t enough.

These hobbies remain quiet corners of joy—untouched by the noise of commerce, yet deeply

fulfilling .

Humble Beginnings, Grounded Aspirations

 When I look back on the early days of my life, I find no stories of grandeur, nor any tales of deprivation. Our financial position growing up was what I’d call “comfortably modest.” We didn’t have excess, but we certainly weren’t wanting. It was a life of balance—a life where every rupee mattered, but we never had to stretch beyond our dignity. We had just enough to live well, to learn deeply, and to dream freely.

There was no extravagance in our household, no careless spending or frivolous indulgence.

But there was one thing in abundance—value. I was raised in an environment where the value

of money was taught silently—through action, restraint, and perspective. That ethos shaped my

financial sensibility early on. Even today, despite all that I may have achieved professionally, I find myself automatically drawn to prudent decisions.

I have never been a spendthrift, and never will be. This upbringing shaped my worldview. It

made me see success not as material accumulation, but as a sense of integrity, balance, and contribution. Yes, my parents ensured I never missed out on anything important—they provided every necessity without hesitation. I still recall flying to Agra for a school trip when I was just 7 or 8 years old—a rare luxury in those times. That one gesture by my parents wasn’t just about travel—it was a lesson in trust, love, and belief in giving your child a sense of the world.

The house I grew up in wasn’t filled with luxury, but it was filled with wisdom. There was

an understanding in our home—that education, values, and self-respect were the true forms of

wealth.

Unlike many children who explore different aspirations—doctor today, pilot tomorrow—I

always knew what I wanted to be. From a very young age, the idea of becoming a Chartered

Accountant was firmly planted in my mind. There was no confusion, no back and forth, no Plan B. It was a calling, not just a career. I qualified at the age of 23½, and in hindsight, that clarity was a blessing.

My inspiration came from very close to home. My father, Late Shri S.P. Kapoor, and my uncle,

Late Shri D.P. Kapoor, were both Chartered Accountants—men of immense capability, wisdom, and grace. Watching them work, watching how people respected them, and how they carried the burden of responsibility with such dignity—it  moved me. These were not just professionals, they were pillars of society, and I wanted to walk in those footsteps.

The Classroom of Life — Lessons Beyond the Blackboard

When I close my eyes and think about my school years, what comes rushing back is not just

a building or a uniform—it’s a feeling. A way of life. A deep sense of structure, belonging, and purpose. I had the privilege of studying at St. Xavier’s School, Delhi, from Class 1 all the way through to Class 12. In many ways, it was not just my school—it was the first institution

that shaped my worldview.

St. Xavier’s had a unique character—a quiet blend of rigid discipline and deep-rooted values,

wrapped in an atmosphere of nurturing excellence. It wasn’t just about marks or medals. It

It was about forming the kind of human being you would become long after the bell rang for the last time. The early years of school, until Class 6, were fairly routine—filled with lessons, homework, assemblies, and the usual mischief. I was a diligent student, but not yet shining. The turning point came when I stepped into Class 7. That’s when something inside me shifted—perhaps maturity, perhaps curiosity—and I began to excel academically. With that excellence came recognition.

I started receiving academic awards, which not only boosted my confidence but instilled a silent hunger for learning that has never left me. A moment of particular pride during my school journey was being awarded the Delhi State Junior Science Talent Scholarship during my Classes

9 and 10. For a young boy, that recognition wasn’t just a trophy—it was a reminder that I was capable of more, that I could dream a little bigger. By the time I reached Class 11, the academic

journey became even more meaningful. Subjects like Accounting, Economics, Commerce, and

Management wasn’t just part of the syllabus— they spoke to me. These weren’t just subjects; they

were windows into the world I would one day belong to. They made me think differently, plan

carefully, and observe the world of money, business, and policy with a keen eye. That early exposure, I now realize, laid the foundation for a career that would span decades.

But academics weren’t my only world. I was equally inclined toward sports, and the energy

of the playground offered a much-needed counterbalance to the discipline of the classroom. The

physicality of sport taught me resilience, team work, and endurance—traits that would later

come in handy in my profession. What I wasn’t, at that stage, was ‘creative’ in the

traditional sense. Creativity had not yet found its expression in me. It would come later, in the form of photography, writing, and even professional problem-solving—but as a child, it took a back seat. I was focused, perhaps even single-minded, in my pursuit of learning and performance.

The Silent Strength — My Parents, My Root

If one were to ask me what shaped me most as a professional, not just as a Chartered Accountant, but as a human being, it wouldn’t be the curriculum, the books, or even the passing of exams. It would be my parents. Everything I am, everything I have achieved, is deeply rooted in their values, their silent resilience, and their unwavering belief in me. I’ve always believed that parents don’t just raise you—they form you. Not by speeches or long sermons, but by the quiet power of example. You learn more by watching them than by listening to them. And in my case, what I watched and absorbed stayed with me for life.

My father was a man of deep integrity and quiet discipline. He believed in letting me explore, stumble, try, fail, and then try again. His parent ing was never intrusive, yet his presence was like the north star—always there, quietly guiding. While he kept a watchful eye, he rarely interfered. He allowed me to make my own mistakes, trust ing that I would find my own way. And because of that trust, I grew into myself. I learned how to think independently, how to take responsibility, and more importantly, how to stand tall after a fall.

 T here were times during my CA journey when the pressure was immense—times when self doubt could have taken over. But I always knew that my father was there. Not in the form of easy answers, but in the form of unseen support—like a safety net you never have to use, but always find comfort in knowing it’s there. My mother—what do I say about her? She didn’t understand the complexities of tax laws or accounting standards. She didn’t sit with me over my textbooks. But her emotional strength and unwavering presence were more powerful than any academic help. She was my rock, silently holding space for my ambitions, for my anxiety, and for my triumphs. Whether I returned home with joy or disappointment, her smile never changed.

 It always said: “I’m proud of you. Keep going.” Together, my parents instilled in me a deep sense of responsibility, humility, and perseverance. They never demanded success—they only encouraged effort. And that, I believe, is the greatest gift any parent can give their child.

 I was also fortunate to be surrounded by other role models in my extended family who left a lasting impression on me. One of the earliest inspirations was my uncle, a Chartered Accountant himself. In fact, my father had once undergone his own CA training under this very uncle. I grew up hearing stories of his diligence, brilliance, and sharp professional acumen. His stature in the family planted the seed of ambition in me quite early. On the other end of the spectrum was my mother’s cousin, who was a civil servant. From her I learned the value of public service and leadership. The blend of discipline from the CA world and the administrative insight from civil services gave me a broader view of what professionalism really meant—it wasn’t just about knowledge, it was also about duty.

And then, there was another uncle—an astrologer by profession, and one of the most spiritually grounded people I’ve known. While science and numbers guided my career, he gave me the ability to look inward, to trust my intuition, and to weather life’s storms with calm. His spiritual insights, offered with wisdom and warmth, helped me during some of the toughest phases of my life. To this day, I carry his teachings with me—not just in moments of crisis, but in everyday life.

Let me also acknowledge the unspoken yet powerful influence of friends. I have always believed that learning doesn’t come only from elders or experts—it also comes from those who walk beside you. My friends, many of whom came from varied professions and life paths, helped me see the world through different lenses. They were my sounding boards, my mirrors, and sometimes, my quiet mentors.

 When I finally expressed my desire to practice as a Chartered Accountant, there were no raised eyebrows at home. Everyone already knew where my heart lay. From my childhood days, I had always been inclined toward this path—it wasn’t just a profession to me, it felt like a calling. Interestingly, after qualifying, I had two major corporate offers—one from ITC and another from Procter & Gamble (P&G). Both were reputed firms, offering promising careers. On paper, any one would have jumped at the opportunity. But fate, responsibility, and legacy had other plans. My father had established a growing CA practice that required nurturing and continuity. I knew, deep in my heart, that I needed to be there—not just as a son, but as a custodian of a legacy built with years of hard work and trust. So, I turned down both offers and stepped into the world of practice—not with regret, but with a deep sense of purpose

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Written by :

CA Sanjivv Shiv Kapoor 
Author

Roots and Reflections — My Childhood & Upbringing

 

from Memoirs of a CA – “Aap Toh CA Hain” by CA Sanjivv Shiv Kapoor

Before I ever stepped into a boardroom or held a balance sheet, my life had already been shaped — not by numbers or ledgers, but by the quiet wisdom of elders, the laughter of cousins, and the irresistible aroma of paranthas on winter mornings.

My story doesn’t begin with law books or account ledgers. It begins in the soul of Old Delhi and in the loving lap of my maternal grandparents in Kanpur.

Those early years in Kanpur were peaceful, almost poetic. The mornings carried the smell of freshly made paranthas, and the soft murmur of elders reading the newspaper set the tone for the day. Life there was unhurried, grounded, and filled with affection. I grew up surrounded by love, by people who valued simplicity and sincerity more than anything else.

It was in that environment that I learned humility, respect for elders, and the importance of discipline — values that would later become my compass in professional life.

But while Kanpur gave me calmness, Old Delhi — or Delhi 6, as we fondly call it — gave me energy, color, and soul.

Our ancestral home in Chandni Chowk was tucked deep inside lanes that seemed to sing with history. Every brick had a story. Every corner was alive with sound, color, and aroma. The smell of street food, the chants from temples, the laughter of neighbors — it was a world of its own.

We were a large joint family — over twenty members under one roof. Looking back now, I consider it one of life’s greatest blessings. We shared everything — meals, joys, dreams, and even disagreements. There was no concept of “my space” or “your space.” The dining table was where generations met — where stories from the past mixed effortlessly with hopes for the future.

From that vibrant, bustling household, I learned to listen deeply, to adapt, to value relationships, and to stand my ground respectfully. Those lessons didn’t come from textbooks; they came from daily life.

Culturally, Chandni Chowk was a universe in itself. Festivals were not just celebrations — they were grand experiences that filled every lane and every heart.

Diwali meant a house glowing with oil lamps and hearts glowing with joy. Holi was pure madness — colors, laughter, and community. Janmashtami meant midnight aartis and decorated swings for little Krishna. Eid brought trays of sweets from neighbors, and Raksha Bandhan came with the softest silken rakhis, tied with laughter and affection.

There was no division of religion — only unity of spirit. We celebrated everything, together. That was Old Delhi — a place where humanity always came first.

And then, of course, there was the food — the kind that tells stories with every bite.

Early morning jalebis dripping with syrup, kebabs that melted on the tongue, chhole-kulche from roadside vendors, and the delicate daulat ki chaat that felt like clouds in a bowl. To this day, no fine-dining experience can match the soulful satisfaction of those simple meals. They were part of who we were — traditions passed down, one plate at a time.

But Old Delhi wasn’t always cheerful. I still remember the uneasy silences of curfews during tense times — when the vibrant lanes went still, and whispers replaced conversations. Those moments taught me the fragility of peace and the strength of community. They reminded me that life, like business, needs balance — between prosperity and compassion, ambition and empathy.

In 1977, we moved to Greater Kailash-II — a quieter, more modern neighborhood. The move gave us more space and comfort, but the soul of Old Delhi never left me. Even today, whenever I return to those narrow lanes, I feel as if I’m reconnecting with a part of myself that has never aged.

That upbringing — between the calm of Kanpur, the vibrancy of Chandni Chowk, and the togetherness of a joint family — formed the core of who I am. It gave me a cultural spine, an appreciation for people, and a way of seeing leadership not as authority, but as connection.

Before I learned to manage accounts, I learned to balance emotions. Before I understood tax codes, I learned the language of love, respect, and resilience. And before I learned how to file returns, I learned how to return — again and again — to my roots, to draw strength and remain grounded.

That was my childhood. Not just a chapter in my life — but the foundation of everything that followed.

And if you’ve ever grown up in a family like that — filled with noise, warmth, food, and love — I’m sure you’ll find a part of yourself in my story.

My book, “Memoirs of a CA – Aap Toh CA Hain”, is not only about my journey as a Chartered Accountant. It’s about life itself — about roots, relationships, nostalgia, and the values that shape who we become.

So, if you believe that success is more than balance sheets… if you love stories that make you smile, reflect, and travel back to your childhood lanes — then I invite you to read my journey.

Get your copy of “Memoirs of a CA – Aap Toh CA Hain” today — and walk with me through the streets of Old Delhi, where every memory still breathes, and every value still lives.

Because before I became a CA… I became me.



CA Sanjivv Shiv Kapoor
Author 


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Aap Toh CA Hain — More Than Just a Phrase

“Aap Toh CA Hain”, may sound casual, even ordinary. It’s a phrase I’ve heard hundreds of times—often said with a smile, sometimes in jest, sometimes with awe, but always with an unspoken weight behind it.

At first glance, it seems like a simple acknowledgement of my profession. But in reality, those four words carry an entire world of expectations, responsibility, and silent reverence. Over the years, they’ve come to define not just how others see me—but also how I see myself.

When you earn the title of a Chartered Accountant, your intellectual capability and work ethic are taken as a given. But as the years pass, as your decisions impact lives, businesses, and families, something shifts. You’re no longer just a professional—you become a symbol of trust, stability, and wisdom.

People begin to look up to you with more than professional respect. They say, “Aap toh CA hain” not just as a statement—but as an expectation.

I’ve heard it from bankers—when they assume I know every detail of their systems and regulatory protocols. I’ve heard it from schoolteachers, who speak to my children with a certain awe, as if my profession somehow casts a shadow of excellence on everything around me. Friends and peers have said it too—some with admiration, some with the subtle pressure of expectation.

At times, this phrase becomes a source of pride. At other times, it gently robs credit from the younger ones, assuming their achievements come from their lineage. And yet, in every instance, it reminds me of how long the journey has been—how many years it has taken to earn that phrase, to grow into it, to carry it with both pride and humility.

Being a CA isn’t just a professional label. It’s a lifelong responsibility. It means being a mentor, a guide, a counsellor, and sometimes, simply a steady hand in someone’s moment of uncertainty.

In a country like ours, advice flows freely. Everyone has an opinion—from medicine to markets. But not every piece of advice carries weight. As professionals, we carry the responsibility to ensure that our words help, heal, and guide—not mislead, because sometimes, one piece of advice can change the entire direction of someone’s life—for better or worse.

So when someone says, “Aap toh CA hain,” it’s never just a phrase. It’s an entire ecosystem of trust, expectation, and belief bundled into a few simple words. It is this emotional and professional landscape that gave birth to the title of this book.

Through these pages, I’ve tried to reflect not only on the professional journey, but also on the life behind the designation—the moments, the learnings, the silent responsibilities, and the invisible weight carried with grace and purpose.

Welcome to the story behind the suit.

Welcome to the world behind

“Aap toh CA hain.”

by: CA Sanjivv Shiv Kapoor
Author
https://aaptohcahain.com/