I future gaze and predict what I would’ve done by 2027. No, I am not giving a date. Just the year 2027.
Hola!
After I wrote the last post, the same lady that inspired me to write the last one, asked me to write another one. This time, gazing at the crystal ball and imaging what the next 5 years could be like. And what I would want them to be. So here, is an attempt at that.
Of course, this is like a wish list and I want to get to each of these things. As always, I am aiming very very high and I know I would miss these. But even I miss these, I would do better than what I am doing right now!
By 2027, I would have done the following for sure. These are my life goals, you know.
Made an attempt to the summit. Hopefully, successfully.
Made a billion dollars and used that money to inspire others.
Fall in love. And live-in with that person. I would still be child-less (except M). Unless my partner wants one. Most probably I would not be living in India.
Some of my kids would be millionaires and billionaires. If not all. This is the single most important goal that I want to chase in the next 5 years.
In terms of smaller, more tangible goals, here are the things that I would have achieved. I would’ve (in order of what I “want” right now)…
Released at least one film (at least) that I would have written or produced or both.
Been 30″ by waist at least once.
Made it on the bestsellers list. Hopefully with book2, if not with book3 or 4 or whatever.
Reached the final table of WSOP. Hopefully I would’ve got the bracelet.
Bought a house. No, I dont think its a great investment. Just that I need a place to dump all the memories.
Travelled to 50. My count as of today is some 40. I am not the one to do all countries. But there are a few that I want to travel to. For example, South America, Japan etc.
So that.
What about you? What are your 2027 goals? You know, in 5 years? Can I play some role in helping you reach those goals?
PS: I will use this post as a running one to talk about changes / achievements / failures and all that.
If you could press a button and wake up exactly where you were 5 years ago – losing everything that happened to you in the last 5 years, including the knowledge you gained – would you do it?
V asked, “If you could press a button and wake up exactly where you were 5 years ago – losing everything that happened to you in the last 5 years, including the knowledge you gained – would you do it?”
While the poll format was easy to react to, the question triggered a lot of thoughts and I thought I will record a SoloCast on this. Or at the very least, write about it. I am not sure I have the time to record, edit, publish one but I can try and steal some minutes from a busy day to write about this.
And here we go!
PS: For the sake of this post, I will assume that COVID-19 did not happen. And that means I will not consider the second-order effects of getting caught in the pandemic.
So we are in 2022 and if I could go back 5 years, we would be in 2017. At that time I would have been 34-35. An age when all is not lost (you are still “far” from the old age of 40). And an age where you are still hopeful. And an age where what you’ve learned in the last three decades of your life seems usable. And an age that doesn’t come across as an outlier for a dreamer. And an age where my dreams of making a dent seemed plausible. And an age where the world had still not woken up to the wonders of decentralised “asset” classes like BTC (it was still breaching 10K).
When I evaluate life, I find that the constructs we have tend to fall short. There is no “model” of sorts that I can lean on to get an objective view. This chart below is the best I think in terms of helping get a grasp of things.
This chart is a simple one really. It makes you rate one area of your life on a scale of 10 and helps you make a spider chart of your life. And since a spider chart is very very visual, you get a good sense of how and where your life is stacked!
Ok. Lemme talk about each spoke. And talk about how it was in 2017, how it is now (in 2022) and if I would like to turn back time.
Let’s go!
A. Health. I would have been 35. That means I would have more time to get my Hernia fixed. I would probably have better teeth. I was still not bald. I think I was thinner as well. Plus I had the exuberance of youth. So that is nice. Healthwise, I think, I was far better off as a 35-year old!
Today I am frail at best. I am fat to a point that I dont like myself. I have shaved my head (which is not cool – you need to keep shaving all the time and that sucks).
So, in terms of health, I was better off in 2017 for sure.
B. Wealth. I dont recall (I did not keep a tab) but back then I would have had more than what I would have needed. I would have been living at Wadhwa (that means I was paying top dollar for a rental house) and would’ve had more modern comforts than I have had since.
Today I don’t have a house. I live with my parents as of today (come March I will have a rental house but today I dont have one).
So, in terms of money, I was better off in 2017.
C. FnF. I was living next door to M. And my sis and I were sharing a house. So that means I was in a good place with FnF.
Today while I live with my parents, I am neither emotionally nor spiritually connected to my family. Sad but that’s how it is.
So, again, 2017 was better.
D. Playtime. Oh, I played pool often with VG. I would meet friends around Powai. I would hang out with friends on their birthdays, I was definitely a lot less awkward than what I am right now.
So 2017 definitely was a better time!
E. Relationships. I think (not sure though) I was with a woman and I was fairly happy while I was with her. I was holidaying at fancy hotels, spending quality time, getting to know her, and in general having a good time. My friends adored her. I was loved by her people. Everything was nice.
Right now, I am in a complicated mess. Like a lot of people my age and my generation. So 2017 was better.
F. Career. In terms of tangibles, in 2017, I would have spent all of 2 years with C4E. I would have been in the hopeful stage where C4E seemed like the best idea since the beginning of time or sliced bread.
Today, 5 years on, C4E is probably the strongest we have been but we are nowhere close to where I wanted to take it. Agreed COVID played spoilsport but there are tons of businesses that mushroomed in the last 3 years. And mine is not one of those. So, I have sort of failed on this.
And thus, 2017 was better!
G. Personal Space. Since I lived in a fairly large house (it was a three-bedroom one), I had all the space. I was on the 24th floor. I had a hall which could fit in two houses! I was a master of my whims and I could do the house the way I want to (minimal etc).
Today I dont have a place to call my own. No, I’ve never owned a house per se but even a rental house is no longer around. And thus.
H. Contribution. I am not sure but I dont think I would have started investing in TRS, PPP or other ideas. However, I would definitely been the kind to give, support, share, mentor, even if I did not have enough. I refuse to believe that the way I live my life right now has happened overnight.
Today though my contribution is huge. In fact, if there is one facet that has worked REALLY well in the last 5 years, it is this ability to contribute to the success and peace and happiness and careers of a lot of people. Of course, the individuals had to work hard and all that, but I can say for sure that the trajectory of their lives is better because I was a part.
So, on this one, 2022 is better!
So, all in all, 2017 was definitely better compared to 2022. I can only hope 2027 is better as well. The funny thing though is that when I saw this tweet for the first time, I instinctively knew that 2017 would’ve been better. And now that I have done the analysis, I am appalled and amazed and how quick and how accurate my gut was!
Ok enough of gloating. Time to sleep. Over and out!
Random rant from a day when I am kind of mind-effed. If there is a word like that.
Trigger Warning. Please read ahead if and only if you can tolerate rant about life and death.
So I haven’t published anything on my blog in a while. I have had the reasons to and things to, but I did not. I dont know why. I am feeling chatty rn and I think I will try and do a brain dump, ideas vomit and all that.
These are no order. I am typing randomly.
ONE
So today I met this friend who recently lost a parent. I am socially inept and I dont know what to do what to talk what to say and what to not say in these situations. People moving on is messy. People going for good is another matter. I mean when someone moves out of your life (and it’s not new to me – I’ve had enough people walk out on, keep me on the edge, use me and all that), you know that you did all you could to keep them around (or should I say, hang around them as they did their thing) and there is that lingering hope that they’d come back. You know, hope being the best of thing and all that?
But when someone goes for good, I dont even know how people reconcile. I have been lucky that I haven’t had to face anyone leaving me for good. And that means that even though I am 40, I dont understand how to say goodbyes. My understanding of life has remained superficial at best. I have lived it at the surface level and I haven’t gone into any depths whatsoever. Wait. Why do you need these depths? Anyway, life is meaningless. No? Maybe, in the grand scheme of things. But to people that lose their loved ones, the ones that dont get closure, the ones that dont find a solution or an answer, maybe there is some purpose after all!
Thing is, I often tell people that are facing such life-altering events that I understand what they go thru, I even get by most times as I can fake well. But then once I’ve done that, I get mindfucked to a point that I dont know what to do!
The reasons for this mindfuckery are simple. Lemme try and write about those here.
A, I am amazed at the strength shown by these people. I dont think I would have it in me to face the world once I lose something, someone close.
B, When I fake, I tend to lose my energy. I never believed in this but as I grow older, I am seeing that things take away my energy (faking things, pushy people, unclean places, etc) and after a bout of exposure to these draining activities, I feel a massive drop in my mood. You know, mood swings? That! And how! So that!
C, I am a little scared that someday I will have to face things. You know, see a loved one go. Say goodbye for the last time. Probably not even say goodbye. Plus the biggest fear. What if I am the one that has to depart? No, I am not scared of death per se. Just that I am scared that I would not achieve what I always thought I was capable of. What I made people around me believe that I was capable of. If I die without fulfilling my destiny, it would be very very unfortunate. So that.
Ok that was about the mood-swing, mind-fuckery-inducing thing that happened. Onto the next thing that I have been thinking about.
TWO
In the last few days, I have had a million signs that I need to get my ass moving and work on #book2! I will talk about those here and the triggers I’ve been having in my head!
a. I am working on this short film that I am convinced that it works. And when I talk about it to people close to me, they come back to me with a retort that I need to consume content before I decide to make it. I mean, why? And because I dont look at things from the experience of other people, how does that mean I cant create my version of things?
I think the answer is, if I had created something that I could show off, that probably would’ve ensured that these questions about my knowledge are not asked! The world we live in gives more importance and
b. I was talking to another friend about another movie. While I said all the reviews are bad, she said, it’s easy to diss and impossible to create. And I was again left speechless. I spoke from the knowledge that the reviews gave me. Not from the lens of a creator! Again, I was reminded that it’s painful to be not a creator, in a world that celebrates creators even if what they create is crap. And yes, I am part of that word.
c. The visit today made me realise the shortness of life and my repeated attempts and failures. I thus need to move my backside. Pronto.
d. I am now surrounded by a few people that are writing like mad! On a day to day basis. And I owe it to them to write. I thus need to find a way to not disappoint them. So I must write. If not for myself, then for others.
e. Then, this uncalled for, unprompted tweet by another author made me realise that having some piece of work out there enables you to make new connections that you did not even know existed.
An open letter to Mohan Bhargava, of Charanpur. Thanking him for being him. And inspiring me along the way.
Dear Mohan,
It’s been a few years now since I’ve come to know you. Our interactions started simple. You were yet another person whose story I would listen to, get awed by and then eventually forget. After all, there is way too much media that people my age consume.
But then there are a few stories that make a home in your subconscious. Even if you don’t want them to.
Your story, Mohan, is one of those. With time, I am forgetting the specifics, blame old age. But the broad strokes of who you are, what you stand for and what you mean have remained with me. In fact, I’d say it’s great that I am forgetting things. The parts that have remained with me are the ones that are probably the most important. Probably the ones that I relate to the most. Probably are the ones that I want to retain!
You know, when I was young, just out of business school, most of my thoughts, ideas and conversations were aimed at doing something large, something great, something out of the ordinary. Something that can make a dent. Something that makes me a lot of money. Something that can make lives better. Something that can inspire others. I knew I had the talent. I knew of my potential. And yet I didn’t do anything. I was often filled with rage about my inability to go beyond from where I was. While I did have the naive confidence that would’ve made me take a shot at the impossible, I missed the nudge, the push, the inspiration to ignite the spark that would turn into a wildfire.
I realise it now, while these thoughts, words, dreams were great, I missed the most important ingredient. Action.
Mohan, action is what sets you apart.
You took action. A large one at that. You quit the American dream at the pinnacle of your career. To come back to Charanpur and screw a light bulb. You were among the stars. Literally. And you were shining bright. Yet you bailed out. To try and crank a water turbine. And seek the glory under that feeble, dim sliver of the faint light of a simple bulb!
You dreamt the impossible. You acted on it. And delivered. And while you did that, you gave an entire village hope to rally behind you.
Like I said earlier, I have forgotten large parts of your story, your background, your life. And the parts I have retained are probably the ones that I want to. I can’t seem to forget your simple ways, your non-conformity and your attitude. And your actions. And your impact.
Mohan, you continue to inspire me to date. And you mean a million things to me. If not more.
You to me, Mohan, are about… – hope that I would come of age someday, even if I am 40 and past my prime. – knowing that I am drifting and knowing that it’s ok to drift. – and keeping faith that the drifting will end someday! Again, if I am past the age where you can contribute meaningfully.
You are also about… – inspiring me to dream the impossible – showing that it’s ok to lust for the impossible – putting in motion the wheel that takes you closer to impossible – and teaching how to move others to move their respective immovable and do the impossible.
You know, Mohan, you do this to me each time I think about you. You take me away from reality. And into this dreamy world where I start believing that I could be Mohan.
And no, I am not alone. You do this to countless others. You’ve planted the thought that there is life beyond a successful career. That you have a responsibility towards your elders that you discard behind as you pursue “success”. That you need to step out of your comfort zone, your cocoon, the palace of illusions you create around you. And dive headfirst into the world that may not offer you a grand pedestal that you’ve always wanted to stand on top of.
You are not just an inspiration. But a reference point. And a conversation starter. And a North Star that I look up to, often, to find my way each time I digress. Damn, you, Mohan!
With a tiny bulb, Mohan, you’ve literally changed lives. And inspired people like me to work towards changing the world. To take life head-on. And become someone who does. And not just dreams.
Phw!
Guess this is about it.
Wish me luck and stay by my side. As I try and do things that you would approve of. And as I try to discover myself. And become me. And become Mohan.
A dump of things that I am thinking about. Nothing specific. Just a random walk on keyboard in an attempt to feel good.
About 7 PM. Sunday.
Have nothing to do and nowhere to go. There’s a lot of openwork that I can do but I dont feel like. This is the time when I want to be lounging at a comfortable place – you know, like a hotel or something. Instead, I am trying to find solace at a Starbucks with a cup of green tea. And no, that does not offer any solace. It merely allows you to distract yourself from the fuckeries in your head.
What fuckeries, you may ask. Well, the ones that keep your head churning. The ones that make you question the choices you’ve made. The ones that make you think that the damn grass is green on the other side while yours is withering and shrinking and shriveling like it’s the perpetual winters. I mean I love the winters. But you get the drift.
What sucks is that you think you’ve done so much for others all your life and you’ve hoped all your life that at moments like these when you want comfort, you want company, you would have those people around. But when you look around, you see standing alone. And everyone else that you hoped would be around standing atop mighty towers in various stages of their respective bliss. Which is not wrong, to be honest. It’s an issue with your expectation. How about doing things without hoping that you’d get something back? The act of asking for things, expecting from others needs to be contained. It’s a pandemic in itself.
The thing is, most times I am so hyper-active on social media channels that I dont get time to think and wonder where things are. But then since Jul, I’ve been away from Twitter and Instagram – two channels that I hang out the most at. Over at these two places, I have enough and more fodder to kill time with. In the sense that I am busy with general chit-chat and aimless wandering. Not that I made any deep connections there but I was busy. At least in my head. Of course, if I were dying, none of those would people would come to help. Lol. For that matter, the ones that I believe are my true friends, wouldn’t come in handy either. But then the point is that there is enough to kill time and keep busy. And leave me with little time to think about things like the meaning of life and all that. So, in a way that distraction is not bad. You know, filling it with fluff.
Ok, I dont know what else to write. I think I need to distract myself. I think I will go find something to waste time on. Over and out.
An ode to one of the best pieces of music ever created and ever featured in a film! From the lens of a hopeless romantic that refuses to lose hope!
So in the morning yesterday a few days ago, a friend sent me this Instagram reel. I saw it, with audio. And my jaw dropped to the floor.
Someone has taken the track that I love like mad and put it on a happy scene of a woman running in a tight alley. The camera is close on her tail, she’s consumed by her happiness and everyone in the scene is sort of coming together to make her experience even more beautiful! You know, the shared celebrations that the primal us want?
This has to be one of the most beautiful portraits of a woman I’ve ever seen. Ever. In my life.
Please please please please see it. It’s at instagram.com/p/CQJzn9nn_rI. It’s a pity I can’t seem to embed it.
Ok. Deep breath.
So, She. Here. Listen to it, if you want to.
She, from Notting Hill
Lemme talk about it.
My memory fails me but I think I first saw heard experienced this track when I saw Notting Hill all those years ago. I dont recall when was this, to be honest, but I must’ve been very very young. However, I remember that I definitely lived in a lower-middle-class part of Delhi. English was a language of the elites and thus aspirational. English was still making inroads into daily parlance. It was considered cool to listen to English music. The only music to trickle to my remote corner of Delhi was the pop chartbusters like Backstreet Boys, Bryan Adams, and others. No, the rock music scene around me was limited to one or two sightings of a Bon Jovi fan. And in rarest of the rare cases, Sweet Child O Mine by Guns N’ Roses.
So, back then, being able to namedrop an English track immediately elevated your status. It was a sure-shot way to become an anomaly in the group of kids that were otherwise stuck on Super Commando Dhruv and Lucky Ali and all that. You were perceived as cool. You’d get more “followers” to flock at you. You’d become that alpha that every kid at that age aspires to be. All this, without trying if you could blabber names of some English songs.
This is when I probably first heard music from Notting Hill. It would have been a pirated version of the film (with subtitles downloaded separately), this was well before the unlimited Jio’d Internet days.
Oh, those days. I remember I got my first computer in 1999 something and we would have dial-up connections and floppy disks and pen-drives with less than 1 MB of capacity. So watching films meant firing up Windows Media Player. Even Winamp! Films were still in CDs that you could rent from various holes in the walls. Often the print was grainy and often the film would get stuck, you know, scratches on the disks. Damn, those days. Of anticipation. Of hope. Of pain. Of wait.
Ok. I digressed. Coming back.
So I would have seen this film on a computer screen. Sometime around 2003 when I was finishing college and preparing for CAT (and thus trying to deck up on English). It’s been almost 2 decades since I’ve remained hooked to the film!
I would’ve seen this film at least a hundred times, if not more. I have literally rattofied the film. I remember the dialogues and scenes and expressions and costumes and the props that you place next to the actors in those complicated set scenes and everything else about the film.
Thing is, back then, when I first saw this film (and heard music from this film), I would have ignored “She” for sure. For it competed with the more famous “When you say nothing at all” by Ronan Keating / Boyzone. It was the track that each “just a girl” that stood in front of a boy asking him to love her would have heard on loop. And imagined a love as warm, as goofy, and as (im)perfect as that of Anna and Will.
Heck, I have pictured myself in that garden, on the June and Joseph bench, under the trees, on a clear, moonless, starry night. I continue to do so to date. Before I die I want to be in that setting. With the love of my life.
Ok. Digressed again.
So coming back. Fast forward a few years.
To this day and age.
With time, I have traveled a bit, seen a bit of life, and probably evolved a bit. I’ve seen Notting Hill again. With fresher eyes and a deeper understanding of the idea of love, friendship, and relationships. And it is one of these recent viewings that I started to appreciate “She” a lot more.
I now understand the contrasts that Costello talks about. I can now decipher the abstraction of shades from the extremes. You know, pleasure or regret, heaven or hell, famine or feast, and many more.
I now know that “She” is about her. The woman that’s rarer than you. The one that makes you feel alive. The one that makes you want to survive. The one you can stay #foreverAlone for, for decades. The one that’s probably the love that you cannot hope to last! And among other things, the one that you will kill (or die) to see the smile on the face of.
In case you missed, I lifted parts of the lyrics to write the parts above.
The thing is, while the track by itself is brilliant, the way it’s been used in Notting Hill makes it 100x better. The song appears right at the end of the film.
This is when Anna and Will have had their ups and downs and right before the all is lost moment.
In there, Will asks Anna a fairly complex, funny, and irreverant question. It is loaded with their inside joke. No one but the two of them can make sense of it.
Will has used way too many words, in a room full of people that use words to make their living. While the meaning was seemingly lost on most of those there, Will’s lavish use of words did exactly what he wanted to! Communicate love.
Anna has a measured response to Will’s question. She is guarded. Probably hoping against hope that things will turn in their favour.
This is when another journalist asks a simple, innocuous, harmless question – “Anna, How long do you plan to stay back in England?”
She replies with one word. “Indefinitely.”
If she had use even one more word at that time, it would have killed the entire film. To a point that you’d not want to even see the fim.
This is the instant when they play “She”.
And it starts the recap of the Will and Anna story. And probably the best 3-minutes of cinema ever shot!
In the entire scene, none of the actors speak a single line. Anna is merely smiling, with a twinkle in her eyes and that unmistakable mole on her lips. Will is merely gawking at her beauty. In a room full of strangers, and the ones that have a keen eye, the two lovers speak to each other and pass on more words than the longest of love letters have ever done!
This is when I start pining for love like that. A “She” like that. And wants me to be worthy of “She” like that.
Here it is. All over again. Do see it.
She, Elvis Costello. From Notting Hill.
Oh, and if you are curious, I’ve been with some really remarkable women over the years. It has to be me that was unable to keep their attention and interest. Of course, I remain hopeful. For a “She”.
What if I told you that a money plant mimics the way my life moves? Would would believe it? Wait. Why should you even? Read on to find out.
Again, a day where I don’t have anything specific to write about. Well, except, this! And since there is nothing else to write about, I am going to talk about it. After all, I have committed to writing for 30 minutes every day for 30 days.
Like I said yesterday, I want to be attached to as few things as possible. And I want to own as limited things as possible. And as a result, over the next few days, I will throw / discard most of the things I own.
Of the things that I will retain is this money plant.
3
Why?
Lemme tell you the backstory.
To be honest, I don’t know when I got this plant. Or how I got this plant. Maybe someone gifted this to me? Or may be my sis left this behind when she moved back to Delhi 3 years ago. But I do know that I have retained this plant for at least 4 years now and I have moved this particular plant every time I have moved houses. And over these four years, I have seen the plant flourish and I have seen it withered down to just 2 leaves. And each time, the state of the plant has sort of mirrored the state of my life!
In fact, I think, like in the Last Leaf (a masterpiece by O Henry) the way protagonist attaches her life to the leaf on a tree, I believe my fortune is attached to the leaves on this money plant.
I am serious. I have data to prove it. Since I have started tracking, the plant has hardly had any leaves and my life has been topsy-turvy. In fact, I don’t recall when was the last when the plant really flourish. And honestly, I don’t remember when was the last time I flourished. I mean I have had a fairly decent life, but I haven’t really flourished per se.
For a large part of the past 2 months, the plant had just 2 leaves.
But as I was prepping to move on to a new one, I spotted another leaf. The third one. So, there is an improvement. And thus, I am hopeful that the new house will be luckier than the previous one. I hope the plant goes back to having many more leaves. May be this year on, it will flourish again? May be I will flourish again?
Or, may be I am merely being a fool and I am confusing causation to correlation What do you think?
PS: Realised that the trouble with writing AND publishing every day is that I hardly get any time to edit. And thus a lot of bugs slip through. Need to find a way out. Any ideas anyone?
So, the annual ritual of changing homes just happened all over again.
This time, I moved from 400102 to 400053. The last time, I moved from there to here.
The drop happened not in just the Pincode but also in the lifestyle. From a 2 bedroom house to a 1 bedroom. From “lavish” (by Mumbai standards) to a cramped space that people in Mumbai are used to. From a newly constructed building to a tower that is probably older than me!
Like all moves in life, this one is also full of excitement, anxiousness, sadness, happiness, and most importantly, hope! And even though I have downgraded things, I remain hopeful that the tide shall turn and I will see that hockey-stick chart again. Let’s see when.
Meanwhile, since this is a post in the 30 minutes of writing every day for 30 days thing that I am doing, lemme try to write more. The announcement of the move took me less than three minutes! And lemme try to write more about the move.
So as I was getting my things moved, I realized, that each time I move, I am surprised by the number of things I own.
Why?
Well for starters, I have always believed in minimalism, and yet I have a billion things. I mean look at the pictures below! The house is anyway tiny with all these things, I hardly have any space to walk around. It’s like living in a walk-in closet! #note2self – throw things so that I can move in just a car. I dont know how I’d discard them books though 🙁
Some pictures of things I own and place I am moving into…
Plus, I anyway don’t buy too many things. I have one pair of denim pants. I have two pairs of shoes. No fancy accessories. And yet I have some million boxes of things.
The other thing that I am surprised at is that while I was packing, I was bereft of any emotion about the place where I lived for a year. I am, after all, quitting it for good. After things were moved out, it felt that the soul of the house was sort of stripped away. It looked like a naked body, sans any character. And yet, I felt no emotions at all. I should’ve ideally welled up. I even tried. I imagined all the good things and the bad that came along with the house. But I could not bring myself to tears.
Which is, good! The idea is to not get attached to things!
Ok, lemme pick the thread on the bit about quitting the house for good. And while I do that, how about I replace the house with a person and my occupation of the house as companionship with that person? Now, I would’ve ideally liked to stay in the house for longer (probably, till eternity) but because I could no longer afford the rent, I had to move out. Similarly, I could have people that I want to stay together with forever (say, a girlfriend) but due to some circumstances (say, differences), she and I have to move away. The million-dollar question is, when that happens, would I continue to be bereft of emotions?
Wait. Is this comparison even valid? Is this some coherence in my personality where I am afraid of attaching myself to people and things? What am I afraid of? What stops me from developing an attachment to people and / or things?
And, if not attached, am really detached? There are people I refuse to give up on, despite the unrequited connections I have with them. There are things that I refuse to throw away even though I have not touched them in ages. Is this how detachment supposed to work? Can I ever be that nomad that I have always craved to become? And if that’s what I crave for, where would I land up when I want to be home? What is that identity that I must attach myself to?
No, I don’t have answers.
And no, I don’t think of these things on a regular, typical day. And it’s funny that shifting houses is bringing these questions to the top of the head that’s got no hair and all meddled ideas!
Of course, the answers remain elusive. May be they’d come in one such shift? Till then, over and out.
A rant on how “interesting” the 5th day of ’30 minutes of writing for 30 days’ project was. Read at peril.
This is the 5th day of this new project where I try and write every day for 30 minutes. As I start writing this, it is 11:17 PM (ended at 11:54 – well over 30) and I don’t have a lot of time (have some work) and thus I may not get 30 minutes under the belt. Plus, what I have to say is anyway not going to take much. So let’s see.
Today was an “interesting” day. For a lot of reasons. Lemme see if I can describe the reasons for interestingness in an interesting manner so as to do justice to the grandeur of this day.
A. The Helping Hand
For starters, three different people asked me to help them today.
One wanted help on writing, second on managing time, and third on reaching his life purpose. I know these three people from three different circles (one from MDI, second from Twitter, and third from work). Each lives in a different city.
And yet each of these people thought that I could help them with their respective predicaments.
While I am not sure I can help them, but I am glad to know that people have started to recognize me as someone they could reach out to when they need help. This is definitely a step in the direction of my #lifeGoal! So, yay!
B. The Good and The Bad and The Resolve
I have recently picked a few gigs where I am giving away fixed hours in exchange for money (counter-intuitive to every advice that I have ever held dear about how to get rich). And even though its not even been a month, I can clearly see why its a bad idea. And why its a good idea. Lemme elaborate.
Bad
I believe life is far larger and far meaningful than wasting time by doing things that don’t matter (to you!). Such as, wasting an entire day at an office, only to pick a laptop! And spending your night, working on a presentation that did not require any urgency per se.
Good
I had to pick these gigs cos the work that gave me the money to live a fairly good life? That has dried up (thank you, COVID. And thank you, SG for some really stupid decisions). And if I did not have these “stable” businesses wanting to hire explorers like me, we’d die hungry.
And I also appreciate that there may be people that like the idea of “stable” work that sucks their soul, in exchange for money that allows them to experience grand things in life on the weekends. Even though it is not for me, it’s not a bad tradeoff if you ask me.
So yeah, bad and good.
The resolve?
Well, I promise that I will get back to a point where I work for anyone but myself. The way things are, I don’t think that will happen before a year and each day in the year would be, well, interesting. I’d ideally love to run away from it as fast as a rat runs away from a ship that has hit an iceberg!
But I promise to myself that I would stay for at least a year (if not more). And I will use each “interesting” day to make my resolve stronger. And my hustler, harder. All in hopes that I don’t ever have to see these interesting times again.
C. The Notches
I wore denims and a formal shirt and sports shoes. My typical work attire. Or any formal occasion attire for that matter. And while I did that, I also wore a belt and I realised that I have put on so much weight that I need to add a notch on the belt.
While I should be gunning for removing notches from the belt, here I am, growing (quite literally) in the other direction. When this lockdown thingy started, I had resolved (where did I hear this word recently?) to lose weight, learn guitar, finish #book2 and I dont know what else. Of all the goals, I was fairly confident of losing weight. After all, I am not a foodie. Wait, lemme munch onto this Egg Roll that I just ordered. So, yeah, I am not a foodie and I could have lost weight but I put on weight! And I need to do something about it.
That’s it. That’s the third part. Nothing more. Nothing less. A reminder to self that I need to lose weight.
***
So yeah. This is for the post of the day. A ranty one. But at least I shipped. After all, real artists ship! Even on interesting days.
