People assume non-verbal communication is all about the face and the body, and that the voice barely counts. It counts a great deal. When we say that as much as 93 per cent of communication can be non-verbal, that figure only holds in a specific situation — when someone is expressing their likes, dislikes and feelings, not when they are reading out facts or directions. Within that, roughly 55 per cent sits in facial expression and body language, and about 38 per cent sits in the voice. That 38 per cent is the part nobody trains.

The voice is doing more than you think

When I listen to someone speak, I'm not only reading their words. I'm hearing whether their pitch runs high or low, how many fillers they lean on, where they place their pauses, and how clearly they shape each word. All of it sends a message before the meaning lands. So when we talk about posing for a photo, body language matters most. But the moment you step into public speaking, your voice deserves the same attention — and most of us have never given it any.

Not everyone feels they need voice exercises, and that's perfectly fine. But I want you to at least know they exist. Singers do them. Trained speakers do them. If you want your voice to carry value when you stand up to speak, a little vocal practice goes a long way.

What clarity actually sounds like

Here's the thing I've noticed lately: a lot of people are singing, and there's no problem with that at all. What I'd love is for more of us to think about the quality of the sound we're producing. One simple marker is the amount of breath, or air, that leaks into the voice while singing. Too much of it and the note loses its shine.

Take the song Muskaanein Jhoothi Hai from the film Talaash. Listen closely and you can hear that extra breathiness riding on the vocal. It may well be a stylistic choice by the singer. But notice how it changes the texture — a voice with cleaner clarity sounds more sureela, more in tune, and the whole song lifts because of it.

This is exactly why the singers of an earlier era lived by one word: riyaz. Daily practice. They drilled their voices for hours, and you can hear the discipline in the recordings. Today, with autotune everywhere — and it is used far more heavily now than before — that habit of riyaz has quietly faded. The technology can polish a take, but it can't replace a trained, clear instrument.

When we 'modernise' the classics

Think of Aaj Phir Tumpe Pyaar Aaya Hai from Dayavan. The original is sung in such simple, honest phrasing — the words sit cleanly on the melody and the emotion comes through without effort. When that same song was reworked for a newer audience, it was bent and broken to add a so-called wow factor. The clarity was the first thing to go. The contrast tells you everything about what plain, well-supported singing does for a listener.

Small efforts that show up later

If you care about your voice — as a singer or as a speaker — give it a little training. A few simple exercises to clear the breathiness, steady your pitch and sharpen your articulation. These are tiny efforts, the kind that feel insignificant in the moment. But they accumulate. The work you put into your voice shows up later, in how people listen to you and how much weight your words carry.

I'd genuinely like to know what you think about this. Pay attention to your voice this week, and notice how much it's been saying all along.