Availability Isn’t Performance (After Coffee)

“What time works best for you?” And out of habit – or maybe, the way I have been groomed over the years, I said, “Anytime, just tell me when.”

They looked at me and said something simple but surprising:

They looked at me and said something simple but surprising:

“No. We don’t expect you to be available all the time! We care about your work-life balance, your potential and growth, and want you to be at your best when you work for us, and you feel it is convenient.”

This was a conversation that happened recently, and I realised that most of us no longer think in terms of time slots.

We work around the clock responding, replying, attending… without ever asking ourselves when we actually perform our best.

Yet, research tells us that when we work matters far more than we realise.

A 2025 study on productivity rhythms found that less than 30% of people perform their best between 9 AM and 5 PM, i.e., the traditional work window, and that cognitive performance peaks at varied times across individuals.

Some are sharpest early morning. Some in the afternoon. Some even at night.

In classrooms, too, students in early morning sessions are significantly more likely to report lower attention and engagement compared to mid-morning or early afternoon.

By 5 PM, everyone has attention fatigue… not from lack of interest, but from simply being awake for too long.

That doesn’t mean early morning or late evening is “bad.” It means human focus isn’t one-size-fits-all.

It’s the same with professional roles.

A strategist might have their sharpest ideas between 11–2.

A designer may find flow after lunch.

A writer might produce their best lines late night.

Psychologists call this variability chronotypes, the natural cognitive rhythms that influence how our attention, creativity, and decision-making fluctuate throughout the day.

What’s interesting is how workplace thinking is shifting.

Instead of asking someone to be available round the clock, HR managers are now asking “When do you do your best work? We are okay with flexibility and we care for your work life balance.”

Because availability doesn’t equal performance.

How often we keep working without ever examining when we work effectively? Not because we can’t choose, but because no one ever asked us.

If you could schedule your work only when you actually needed to present, meet, teach, or submit some document, and you could choose the day and time (8–11 am, 11–2 pm, 2–5 pm, or 5–8 pm), which window would you pick?

After morning coffee, of course.

Bloom.

We were in 3rd/4th grade and everyone used to play games in the playground during the recess. There were no rules, no age-bar, no gender bias; one could witness kids playing hide and seek, ice-water, red-letter, steps, catch-the-ball or a football match-especially during the monsoon when the ground was full of water puddles.

These matches were either intra-section, inter-section or even inter-grade at times. After the 40-minute recess got over, the PT teachers used to collect the skipping ropes or footballs or tennis balls.

The teams used to sing after the match. Not “sing-a-song” sing, but a slogan. The winning team sang- “Hum jeet gaye, hum jeet gaye; wo haar gaye, wo haar gaye” (We won, we won; they lost, they lost) while running towards the school building happily. It was their way of expressing joy. Happiness. Victory. Everyone appreciated it and none of the teachers asked them to shhh.

BUT, the team which lost, ALSO used to sing – “Hum haar gaye, hum haar gaye, wo jeet gaye, wo jeet gaye” (We lost, we lost; they won, they won) – with equal enthusiasm and appreciation for the winning team. This team might have been upset about losing, but their happiness was all about playing the match whole heartedly, knowing that it’s just a game they played in that short recess, which refreshed them and prepared them for the next.

Both the teams used to walk together, happily, in a group, teasing each other, smiling, laughing, hugging, pushing, clapping and giving high-fives. Their uniforms would be full of dirt, black polished shoes turned brown with mud; and faces and hands messed up. But the smiles on their faces and the care and appreciation they had for each other was outstanding. It was human.

We all grew up on the same swampy ground and played in the same mud – at a different time and place, maybe. Like numerous lotuses in the water pond. Some turned out to be the flower petals, some roots, some the plant leaves. And some even the foundation – the water.

My click at IIM Indore.

But now, it is not just a ‘match’ for us. We are formal, and our ‘uniforms’ are now stained with a competition to get the best ‘catch’. There is no genuine appreciation or encouragement, nor we are expressing victory or failure whole-heartedly. We are chasing our ‘goals’ wearing formal polished shoes. We serve ‘penalty shots’ and blame others for expecting or even asking something out of concern, and then often declare a ‘foul’.

Its time we again take a short recess, trust the light, grow through this dirt, believe in new beginnings, breathe in deep and let life unfold. Bloom.