My experience with Bhuvan Dhanesha, memory training, and the question of value
I found Bhuvan’s approach grounded.
I did not experience the same degree of concern around grand positioning or motivational spectacle.
There was genuine content.
There were techniques.
There was a clear teaching intent.
And the programme I experienced was delivered as committed.
So this is not a piece saying:
“This is useless.”
It isn’t.
My question is more uncomfortable:
When a programme is useful, does that automatically mean it is worth a high price?
I don’t think it does.
Growth Vidhyapeeth currently identifies Bhuvan Dhanesha as its CMO and Faculty Leader for Super Memory Master, describing him as a memory trainer and study-skills development coach. (Growth Vidya Peeth)
The organisation says it has been operating since 2003 and has reached more than 3 lakh participants across multiple countries. (Growth Vidya Peeth)
Its current online platform lists Bhuvan’s Super Memory Master courses alongside Speed Maths and Speed Writing offerings. (Growth Vidhyapeeth)
The Super Memory Master programme itself is quite concrete about what it teaches:
observation
visualization
relaxation
concentration
revision
memory systems
speed reading
methods for remembering definitions
flow charts
shape charts
link-story techniques
character replacement
chapter-learning methods
exam preparation
It also includes worksheets, live/pre-recorded training, WhatsApp group support and lifetime access. (Growth Vidya Peeth)
That’s actually useful information.
And it leads directly to my question.
I learned techniques.
Some of them are genuinely clever.
Some can be useful.
Some are fun.
Some can improve recall.
Some can make studying more engaging.
I have no problem acknowledging that.
But there’s a distinction I think the training industry needs to make much more clearly:
A useful technique is not necessarily a high-value development intervention.
If I learn a memory technique in an afternoon, that technique has some value.
But if I pay a substantial amount for a programme, I am no longer simply buying information.
I’m buying an outcome.
And the question becomes:
What durable capability am I actually acquiring?
This is where I became uncomfortable.
Suppose I learn:
a memory technique,
a speed-reading technique,
a visualization technique,
a method for remembering definitions,
a system for structuring information.
Fine.
But what is the economic value of that capability?
How much would I reasonably pay to acquire it?
₹1,000?
₹5,000?
₹10,000?
₹50,000?
₹1 lakh?
The answer depends on the depth of the intervention and the outcome.
The current online Super Memory Master course, for example, is listed at ₹6,141 including GST and payment charges, discounted from ₹7,000 on one current page, with lifetime access. (Growth Vidya Peeth)
At that level, the value proposition is relatively straightforward to evaluate.
But when similar personal-development concepts become part of much higher-priced programmes, the question becomes much more serious:
What additional value am I receiving for the additional price?
That’s where I want to see the evidence.
Let me be very clear.
Memory training is a legitimate skill.
Students need better study methods.
Professionals need better ways to process information.
Learning how to structure, associate and recall information can be useful.
And Bhuvan appears to have substantial experience in this domain. The Growth Vidhyapeeth course platform currently describes him as a memory trainer and study-skills development coach and says he has trained more than 1.5 lakh students across 10 countries. (Growth Vidhyapeeth)
So this is not an argument against the underlying subject.
It is an argument for proportionality.
At some point I stopped asking:
“Is this technique useful?”
and started asking:
“Is this enough to justify the total investment?”
That’s a very different question.
Because almost anything can be useful.
A book can be useful.
A YouTube video can be useful.
A conversation can be useful.
A ₹500 workshop can be useful.
A ₹5,000 course can be useful.
But useful does not automatically mean valuable at a premium price.
The higher the price, the higher the burden of proof.
This is where I think many learning programmes become thin.
I learn the method.
Great.
Now what?
Who watches me use it?
Who tells me whether I am applying it correctly?
Who helps me when the technique stops working?
Who adapts the method to my actual learning environment?
Who checks whether my retention improved?
Who checks whether my exam performance improved?
Who checks whether my professional productivity improved?
Who follows up three months later?
Six months later?
A year later?
The current online course does include worksheets, live/pre-recorded training, WhatsApp group support and lifetime access. (Growth Vidya Peeth)
That’s better than simply handing someone a video and saying goodbye.
But access is not the same as longitudinal development.
This is something I have become increasingly convinced about.
A WhatsApp group can provide:
community
reminders
questions
encouragement
access
peer interaction
All useful.
But it is not necessarily a substitute for:
assessment → practice → observation → feedback → correction → measurement → repetition.
If I am serious about changing a capability, I want someone to know whether I am actually getting better.
Not simply whether I am still in the group.
The word transformation is used very easily in personal development.
But what does it mean in memory training?
Did I remember 20% more?
Did my retention after seven days improve?
Did my study time fall?
Did my exam scores improve?
Did my ability to retrieve information under pressure improve?
Did I retain the benefit six months later?
Did I become less dependent on the technique?
Those are measurable questions.
And they are much more useful than:
“Did you find the workshop transformative?”
Of course someone may say yes.
They may have enjoyed it enormously.
But enjoyment isn’t the same as durable learning.
I have become increasingly interested in the difference between peak-state activation and mean-shifting development.
A peak experience can be valuable.
You discover a new technique.
You suddenly realise you can remember more.
You feel excited.
You think:
“Why didn’t anybody teach me this before?”
Fantastic.
But the peak isn’t the outcome.
The outcome is what happens after the excitement disappears.
Do you keep practising?
Does the capability remain?
Does it generalise?
Does it become automatic?
Does your baseline change?
That’s the mean shift.
This may be the most counterintuitive part.
People often expect transformation to feel exciting.
I increasingly think the opposite is true.
Real development is often:
dry.
repetitive.
boring.
You learn the method.
You practise it.
You forget.
You practise again.
You discover which parts work for you.
You modify your approach.
You get feedback.
You repeat.
Eventually you stop thinking about the technique.
You’re simply better at the task.
That is development.
This is another distinction I would make.
A memory technique can solve a specific problem.
A learning system has to address a broader cycle:
What am I learning?
Why am I learning it?
How do I understand it?
How do I encode it?
How do I retrieve it?
How do I practise?
How do I test myself?
How do I correct errors?
How do I retain it over time?
How do I transfer it to new contexts?
Memory is one component.
Learning is larger.
And education is larger still.
This is also worth saying because of my broader experience with personal-development programmes.
Credentials and degrees don’t make me more deserving of a particular programme.
They don’t make the programme more valuable.
And they shouldn’t be used as evidence that I am somehow uniquely positioned to benefit.
The right question isn’t:
“What degrees does this person have?”
or:
“How impressive is this participant?”
The right question is:
What capability needs to change?
That’s it.
This is where I would ask anyone considering a high-cost programme to stop and calculate.
Not just:
Programme fee.
But:
Programme fee + travel + accommodation + time + opportunity cost + follow-on programmes + certifications + other purchases.
Then ask:
What is the expected value created?
If the answer is:
“I learned several useful techniques.”
Fine.
Then price it accordingly.
If the answer is:
“I have fundamentally transformed my learning capability.”
Then show me the evidence.
This is not an accusation.
It is a request for a higher standard.
If an organisation has trained hundreds of thousands of people, I would love to see longitudinal evidence.
For memory programmes:
Baseline retention.
Post-training retention.
Retention after three months.
Retention after six months.
Real-world academic or professional outcomes.
How much practice was required?
What percentage of participants continued using the methods?
What percentage stopped?
What percentage reported no meaningful benefit?
Those numbers would be far more interesting to me than a testimonial.
Because testimonials tell me that someone had a good experience.
An outcome audit tells me whether the intervention reliably works.
I want to emphasise this because I think nuance matters.
My experience with Bhuvan Dhanesha was more grounded than some of the other personal-development environments I have encountered.
I don’t think the right conclusion is:
“Don’t learn from Bhuvan.”
The more reasonable conclusion is:
“Understand exactly what you’re buying, and determine whether the price is proportionate to the outcome.”
That’s a very different statement.
Someone can be knowledgeable.
Someone can be sincere.
Someone can be an excellent trainer.
A programme can be useful.
And I can still decide:
This isn’t worth what it costs me.
Those things can all be true simultaneously.
There is another sentence that deserves scrutiny:
“It depends on you.”
Yes.
Of course it does.
I have to practise.
I have to apply.
I have to persist.
But if the provider is selling a transformation, the provider also has a responsibility to design an intervention that supports that transformation.
Otherwise every unsuccessful outcome can simply be attributed to insufficient participant effort.
That’s not accountability.
That’s an unfalsifiable proposition.
If the programme works:
“Look at the transformation.”
If it doesn’t:
“You didn’t practise enough.”
There has to be something in between.
If I were buying a serious development intervention today, I would want:
What is my actual problem?
Is this intervention appropriate for me?
Where do I use the capability?
Who watches me?
How do we know I’m improving?
What happens after the workshop?
What happens when the method doesn’t work?
How does the capability become part of ordinary life?
When can I do this without the trainer?
That is what I mean by development infrastructure.
So before spending serious money on memory training, study-skills programmes, productivity courses or personal-development programmes, ask the eight questions I now use for almost every significant investment:
Who experiences the pain?
Who decides?
Who controls the budget?
Who captures the benefit?
Who can say yes without five levels of procurement?
What exactly are they buying from me?
Do I own the problem/outcome, or am I supporting someone else’s ownership?
Who cares enough to act?
Then ask:
What will still be different six months from now?
And:
What will still be different two years from now?
If the answer is simply:
“I learned some really useful techniques.”
That’s fine.
But price it as learning.
Don’t automatically call it transformation.
Because transformation has a higher bar.
It has to survive the workshop.
It has to survive the WhatsApp group.
It has to survive the excitement.
It has to survive the trainer leaving the room.
It has to survive Tuesday morning.
And eventually:
It should become so ordinary that you forget you were ever “transformed.”
That’s the kind of development I believe is worth paying for.
Useful is good.
Durable is better.
Measurable is better still.
And at a premium price, I want all three.

Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.