Life – Page 3

The inconvenient truth…

…of being a self-employed dude trying to run a services business is… that it sucks. Running a business I mean.

Thing is, the days are really long. And short at the same time. Long because you start work at 7 in the morning and end at… well, you don’t end. Short because there is so much to do that at any given point in time you have 20 thing that require your attention as of yesterday. There is little room for being organised – everything is last minute, it’s a constant battle between cashflow that is running out fast and the plug of hope that every phone call brings along.

Of course I chose this life. I could’ve taken the easy path where a cushy job would allow me the luxuries of life and a weekend where I’d have a huge bankroll and I could take off to the Macaus and Singapores of the world to live it up. But then no, the stubborn me, the anti-establishment me, the dreamer in me refused to heed. And here I am. Struggling hard to make things happen.

May be I am doing this wrong. May be I should have taken the easy way. After all, I dont really have the skills that allow me to make easy money. I haven’t been blessed with looks or with a golden voice or the gift of the gab or a talent with design or writing. Or a last name that allows me to become a pastry chef or the confidence to be a food critic.

As she says, I am at best a fakir. And jugaad. And I need to use these two not-so-desirous things to get things that I want. But then it’s hard to do so when you are so dependant on others for work and for delivery. When the world around you has it super easy and when you question the fairness of it all.

I know I know. Life is unfair and while most days I take it in a stride, today, I cant. I think this is one of those where I could do with a drink. But since I dont, I guess I need a hug.

However…

Thank You, Charles

I dont know who introduced me to Charles. Must’ve been Suds – he only talks about such radicals. Whoever it was, heartfelt thanks to that person. Even though I dont understand much of Charles’ poetry, I think I can comprehend some of his prose. Actually, leave alone his work, I cant get the spellings of his name right. I have to look up everytime. Buk-wos-ki? Buk-os-ki? Buk-ow-ski?

The point anyhow is that some of things that he said are phenomenal! Like one of his pieces go, “I wasnt much of a petty thief. I wanted the whole world or nothing.”

“I wasn’t much of a petty thief, I wanted the whole world… or nothing.”

The thing is, this is exactly how I think I operate. Either I want everything, or nothing. In fact, I remember when I was a kid, I was seeing one of Ashutosh Rana‘s interviews. He said something like, “dil to ada hai zid pe bachche ki tarah, ya to chahiye mujhe sab kuch, ya kuch bhi nahi.” I dont even know how old I was at that point in time. But I remember these lines pretty distinctly. May be despite the ~~grey hair~~ bald head I am like a kid, that wants either everything that I can my hands on or I let go of everything.

I dont know if this is healthy in the long run but I know that thats how I am. That is what drives me. I want it all. Or I want nothing. And I am willing to put in effort and hardwork and brains and all that for it. I dont sort of shun away from work but I dont understand why I dont get it all. May be I need to put in more effort?

Exhibit A: sgMS! I have no clue if I have ever wanted anything as bad. No, I am not objectifying her. Yes, I am being selfish. Yes, I love her. Yes, I want to be everything that she wants her man to be and yes I am not even a one percent of her needs or wants. Yet, I want to be around her. Why would I want to be? Because like Rabbi said,

tere bin / besides you
sanu sohnia / my love
koi hor nahio labhna / i shan’t find another
jo dave / who’ll give
ruh nu sakun / peace to my soul
chukke jo nakhra mera / and indulge me” (via)

No one else gives peace to my soul. Of course I dont do shit to her and no wonder I am not with her.

In fact she alleges that my love is the stifling kinds where I dont let her breathe. I put her under the weight of my expectations and she is not at peace. Pretty messed up. No? These one-sided love affairs are pretty sad. It sucks to sort of shuffle between sleep and reality and seeing her nudging her cheeks to me, inviting me to kiss
her. Its great till you can see her, smell her and all that and moment you go to touch her, you wake up to a rude shock.

I need a break. I will take a break. I am going to go away for a bit (Delhi for a week between 12 and 23 – if you are around, lets meet). Everything in Mumbai reminds me of her and I really need a break. May be I need to move away from India altogether? Damn the escapist in me.

Moving on. To exhibit B. Steve. If you know me even a little bit, I am probably the biggest fanboy that Steve has. And I want to be like him. I dont want to be Saurabh Garg. I dont want to be the unique dude that everyone else wants to be. I want to be Steve Jobs and no one else. He is that big an inspiration. I do everything that it takes to reach his levels. I push myself hard. I push people around me harder. I try and deliver the best. I connect with him philosophically – I want the process and proceeds both to be amazing. I can continue talking about him forever but allow me to digress a bit here.

After Steve, I needed a new “muse”, a new inspiration, a new Iron Man and this is where I turned to Elon. Unlike Steve who’s work was more about pushing the boundaries and making lives easier, Elon is about pushing the boundaries and making lives better (easier vs better). And while I read about what all he does, I often get drifted towards the concept of time and life and space and death and all that. I realise that we are so small, so tiny in large scheme of things. Whatever you may do, will come to an end and you cant do anything about it.

The entire thought makes me sick in the gut. At times I am scared. And I cant even sleep in night. At 33, this is a pretty stupid thing to admit.

More than fearing death, I think I am afraid of the concept of unknown. Everything that makes me – my thoughts, my memories, my longing for sgMS, my dreams, my aspirations, my personality, my friends et al, what would happen to those once I am dead? And if I am going to be dead in the long run, what is the damn point of this life then? Why not end it right now and avoid unnecessary heartburns and other such troubles that I give to people close to me? Case in point sgMS. The days I get to meet her, the days she talks properly to me, the days when I get god vibes from her, those days I am happy like hell. May be I need another session of Vipassana where they try and teach you that there is no you.

Death in fact has been a recurring theme in my thoughts and my dreams the last few days. The place I live at, it has a board that announces death of every person that resides in the building; and every other day I see yet another name marked on it and a place where that person would be put to rest. Creepy in so many ways. Then over the weekend, I read Reacher 20 and it was about people wanting to commit suicides. Yesterday, a colleague asked me to make my will. Last night, I was craving for sgMS while she was getting drunk and I did not know what to do find sleep. I turned to Quora and the first thread that it showed me was about how a happy, healthy young guy committed suicide without giving any sort of warning to his family and the family hasnt had a closure about the reason why he killed himself. And then in the morning today, I woke up to my maid howling about someone who’s killed himself back home. Pretty fucked up man.

I dont know what to make out from all these recent things. From real life to dreams to fiction, I see it everywhere. If by any chance I were to die tomorrow and this is my last blogpost and this holds and legal merit, here is my latest will…

I dont have any debts. In fact I am to take some money from some people.
All my movable, immovable assets must be given to my parents and my sis equally. My bike goes to Vivek. Everything else to be given to people who may need those.
All my digital data (computers, hard disks, blogs, social media accounts et al) to be wiped. I dont know how would you do it. But I trust Vivek to get it done.
My dead body must be reused (parts given to those in need and whatever is left to be given to medical science for research).
Proceeds from my book, if any, to go to M. Gawri.
sgMS, I love you. Loved you till I died.

Fuck, its so funny. I could sum up everything in my life in 6 bullet points. 6 bullet points. And these 6 points have made me realize that things we take so seriously are so so insignificant.

Anyhow, I am sick in the gut and I dont know what else to write. Lemme move on.

Wait. I am not suicidal (just in case you happen to read this and care enough to call and reason and all that). Just that there is just too long a string of coincidences. This too shall pass.

So, if I were the spiritual kinds, I would say that I am inviting death
– afterall the thoughts manifest into actions and all that. In fact
universe has been throwing death at me. But deep down inside I dont want it anywhere close to where I am. There are indeed so many miles to go before I sleep. And some of those miles with sgMS if not all. Here is a song for her…

I just want to see you, when you’re all alone
I just want to catch you if I can
I just want to be there
When the morning light explodes
On your face it radiates
I can’t escape
I love you ’till the end

I just want to tell you nothing
You don’t want to hear
All I want is for you to say
Oh why don’t you just take me
Where I’ve never been before
I know you want to hear me
Catch my breath
I love you ’till the end
I love you ’till the end

I just want to be there
When we’re caught in the rain
I just want to see you laugh, not cry
I just want to feel you
When the night puts on it’s cloak
I’m lost for words, don’t tell me
‘Cause all I can say
I love you ’till the end

All I can say
I love you ’till the end (via)

That’s it for the time being.

Onwards to the rest of the day (Dharma) and a lunch with a friend. And then, may be, some work (Artha). And then, may be poker (Kama). As, they say in Purushartha, life is about Dharma, Artha, Kama and Moksha.

P.S.: The way I’ve moved on from Steve (did I move on?), may be someday, I will move on. Inshallah some day I will come out of it. Some day I will find someone that accepts the way I am.

P.P.S.: Talk of digression. From Bukowski to Steve to Elon to sgMS to Life to Death to I dont know what all. Verbal Diarrhea. But the fact of the matter is, I feel good once I have poured out shit in my head on a blog. I just wish there was someone who I could talk to – about things that I write here. And about things that I cant write here.

P.P.P.S.: #note2Self: Read more about Purushartha.

Pointless!

Source: Unknown

You see the curve? The irregular sinusoidal curve? My mood is like that. I start the day on a high. I make my bed, make a list of things to do, visualize my short-term and long-term goals and go out with all the positivity. I appreciate small things in life – sunshine, birds, trees and the sky. I observe things rather than making a judgement. I dont yell on people and I try and get all the good karma I can.

I feel like the success kid and I am all determined to take on the world!

Life looks rosy and I have this inkling that great things are going to happen to me. In anticipation I start “living” the life that I crave for (a la The Secret). And I open my arms wide and strong, ready to recieve the goodness that the world would apprantly shower on m.

I reach wherever I want to (coffee shop, clients office, borrowed desk) and by the time I arrive, I start falling into this mild, for want of better word, depression. I start questioning the very meaning of what I am upto. Things that I am doing – they dont matter no more. Where I start thinking about the reason of doing things. Where I wonder about the whole damn point of being in a world where life is unfair. Someone like me, who thinks he works harder than anyone else that he knows of, is poor and gets a raw deal all the time. Of course there are great things that has happened to him but overall, in grand scheme of things, he’s got the raw deal. There is no sex or cash, no friends, no future and nothing else to look upto. Everything feels like a futile attempt. Its like staring down the abyss.

The worst part of this feeling is that I am not alone. I know so so many people just like me. The ones who keep trying and keep going on without any hope or any possibility.

But then the selfish fuck in me pushes the pathos for others on a back seat. I concentrate on myself. And I realize that I am unhappy and I am discontent.

There are quite a few reasons for the feeling. The first and foremost is the fact that I did not get lucky with the Ovarian Lottery.
Like the poor kid on the left, in the image on the left, I have had to
climb really steep ladders while I see very average people doing better because they had things served to them on a platter.

The other thing is that I have had to work really hard for every rupee that I’ve earned while the word around me seems to get it easy!

And then my money
does not word hard. For every rupee I spend, I do not get its equivalent worth.

First bit (losing out on Ovarian Lottery) is a random luck. The second is something that
I can control and yet I cant because of the value system that I have
been ingrained with. I wish I could unlearn em. Once a middle class, always a middle class!

When this bout of self-pity gets too much, I stagger to YouTube and fire up the latest Kamal R Khan video and world starts looking bright all over again. Side note: Do see his collection on Youtube if you have time. Here is the link.

I wish I could love myself the way KRK does. In a world where self-love could be so, selfless, nothing can touch you!

But then, moment the video is over, I am back to the gloom of diminishing bank balance, lost opportunities and comparison with friends who are dollar millionaires and yet make a stupid show about their poverty – wish they accepted that they are doing well and stopped pulling legs of people like me who barely get by.

At this point, I try to count my blessings – amazing parents that are so selfless that I dont believe them at times (while I continue to cry about Ovarian Lottery), opportunity to have traveled the world, option to work for myself (and make enough to pay my rent and earn my bread, while sending nothing home), ability to choose the kind of work I want to do (not that what I do has changed the world) and so on and do forth. Side note: Did you notice all the disclaimers?

But then I realize that I am not alone. And I havent done it all. I have a fucking Jack of all trades at best and Jacks often end up as JackAsses. See that lame attempt at pun? And I claim to be an author!

I think I’d end this post with this lame attempt at poetry…

@jasuja ख़्वाब तो रईसों वाले है, हैसियत फ़क़ीरों वाली

— सौरभ गर्ग (@saurabh) December 19, 2015

P.S.: In fact, as I finish writing this piece, I am even wondering about the reason of this blog. I dont think anyone reads what I write (apart from people who land on this page via Google). And I definitiely dont go back to read how I was feeling at some point in the past. May be its just a way to vent? But to what end? Pointless. Like life!

Rant on Mumbai

Yesterday I was coming back from some place at around 9 (pm). To reach home, I cross the most godforsaken place in the world – Saki Naka (the wikipedia article does not do justice to the fuckery this place is. And its worse than the place where I live in Delhi). Since I knew that I was going to get stuck in traffic, I was in a really foul mood. This is when I looked out of the rick and saw a man my father’s age running behind a bus, trying to catch it. He had a backpack and he was wearing regular trousers and a shirt. At the risk of generalizing, he looked like a clerk or some other administrative person – one of the millions in the great Indian middle-class.

Since there was traffic, the bus was barely crawling ahead. My rick was right behind the bus and the man was literally running parallel to the rick I was in. And since the man was old, he could run only at a certain speed and the crawl-speed of the bus was more than what the man could run at. He knew and I knew and probably everyone around knew that he was not going to catch the bus. And yet he kept chasing the bus. Despite the inevitable, he continued to chase. And he did it with all the fervor he could.

As the traffic opened up, the bus zoomed ahead and whatever little hopes that man had of catching the bus went in smoke. And the man finally quit the chase. With a shrug. And then he started to walk. And there was some purpose in the way he walked! I loved it. I loved the way he went about it. I wish I had that spirit. I wish I had the grit that he had.

Anyhow while I was thinking about it, I realized a few things.

A. He was old. If my father were to run like that, I would be really really sad. And come to think of it, my father has used public transport all his life. Am sure he would have chased buses and trains while working. Me on the other hand, I have used public transport only till the time I was in the college. After that I had a bike. And enough money to hire a rickshaw or taxi or something private. I am extremely lucky to have a family that has supported me with all that.

B. While I may crib about my inability to make enough money and get sad about it, there are so so many people that have far less than what I have and are struggling with even the basics, and yet they are happy. I mean that old man. He was ok to run to catch his bus. And I am sure it must be a routine for him. And yet he was ok with it. He knows that he will win some and lose some. And here I am. Who’s never had to lose anything!

C. Mumbai is a tough tough place to live in. My life is little comfortable – I have a big enough place to live in, enough money to pay for rickshaws and Ubers, enough money to eat what I want to, when I want to, where I want to, enough to take those foreign holidays and so on and so forth. And despite all this, I feel strained. The mere existence in Mumbai is tough. At times I want to leave everything and move to the mountains – which I would’ve done if I #tnks had sold well (after all purpose, passion and success are all interlinked!). May be I would if #book2 does well. I dont know if I can be a Ruskin Bond but I would try.

I digressed. The point is, Mumbai is a tough tough place to live in! And I have been shielded from the toughness to a large extent. I do not know what dirt and grime and heat and dust is like. I just cry like a baby. I need to stop that.

D. While the ~~spirit~~ struggle of Mumbai is a great thing, I am not sure I appreciate that a place could put such a large chunk of humanity in such miserable conditions. And each person is trapped in Mumbai because they dont have anywhere else to go, anything else to do. The ones who’ve made it are ok, the ones who haven’t are too tired to move on. Life looks hunky dory from our Ubers and air-conditioned offices and lavish parties at five-stars and view from atop the high-rises and occasional travels abroad and fancy things that we talk while we work. But in real life, life is lot more than that. And we need to somehow learn.

If nothing, the resolve to help the ones who lost on the ovarian lottery is now stronger. Once I have reached a point when I have made enough (I dont know what is enough), I would really work towards generating employment, elevating the lives, education and health. Basically go the Bill Gates way. Some day. Not today. I could jump in today but the impact that I would have would be limited. I dont want to impact ten lives. I would rather do create a fortune and then use that to bring about change on a larger scale. Like Bill Gates! Again I am digressing. The point is that Mumbai is a tough place to make a living. And the scene yesterday made me rethink my choice to stay in Mumbai.

Oh, to end this, barely five minutes after I saw that old man, I saw another man – this time far younger, sprinting behind a bus that he knew that he was never going to catch. He was in a Jet Airways uniform and looked like a loader or helper. The he was running, it was remarkable! I dont think I can run like ever! Plus, the thing is, he would’ve walked from the airport to the junction and then must have missed his bus. Life is so fucking tough and here I am lamenting about my inability to afford a car or a better lifestyle!

Oh Mumbai – the maya nagri! It is so so difficult to love you. And even more difficult to hate you!

Done with Starbucks

If you follow this blog, or my twitter feed, or my instagram feed, you would know of my love affair with Starbucks India.

Sadly, it has come to an end.

The love affair started in late 2013 when they opened an outlet close to my place (Powai). And in the process gave me that third place that I always craved for. A place where I could be myself. A place where I dont have to bear with the formal environment of an office. A place where I could escape from the overly-causal vibe of a home. A place that inspired me. A place that helped me get in the zone, over an over again and allowed me to do good work. In fact I wrote a large part of #tnks at the Powai outlet.

To me, over time, Starbucks thus became the default place where I’d meet friends, acquaintances, business associates, strangers, first dates and so on and so forth. Every time someone asked me where to meet, irrespective of the city I were in, I could close eyes and ask them to come to the nearest Starbucks outlet. Each store was consistent, each Barista was polite, the coffee was ok but the experience was superlative. With Starbucks, I did not have to worry about things like AC, security, cleanliness, Internet, ambiance etc. I had to think about more important things like making the right impression, convincing the prospective client et al. In fact if I wanted to get a meeting right, I would insist to meet at a Starbucks. Leave the meetings apart, I could spend hours at a Starbucks. All by myself. Starbucks taught me how to be alone.

It gave me so much that I started considering a Starbucks outlet as the greatest place ever invented. And thus, over time, like with lovers, I started taking Starbucks for granted. And I started expecting things from Starbucks. Things that are often hard to deliver if you dont have the interests aligned, the love mutual and shared. Which I know wasn’t. Starbucks after all is a commercial enterprise and while they do have the community’s interest at heart, they have to make money. They have shareholders to get back to at the end of every quarter, if not year.

So with time, as the business grew, the stores started to change. I mean the waiters still called me by my first name and remembered what I order (Java Chip Frappuccino) and I continued to move towards those free drinks and upgrades with every purchase. But the stores became less inviting. Stores became more commercial. Stores started getting “optimized.” Older patrons like me weren’t invited no more. Guess they lost their soul, if they had a soul!

In terms of tangibles, the stores started getting more crowded and the patrons started getting younger. And as a result the service level started to go down, the noise levels went upto a point where it became impossible to hold conversations. Baristas were no longer keen on “knowing” you. They merely wanted to fill in more tables and operate like a McDonalds where the only goal is to rotate tables. Fast. Profitably. Other things stopped mattering. All the cool things that Starbucks does, stands for, took a back seat.

The stores continued to consistently fail to deliver on things that I
expect as a lover, a patron. And like a jilted lover, I can not tolerate someone else getting more attention than I. And thus I am forced to “take” my
affection elsewhere. I am not sure where but someone will take
up the space that has been left vacant by Starbucks. Something that is
little more everlasting and little more permanent. May be. May be not. And of course, its not them, its me! I guess its me who’s at fault. I need to change. I need to give more space. Well, dont I sound like a typical lover left in lurch? Judge me, if you will ;P

But I hope we remain friends. I will of course continue to come over to a Starbucks. But I am not sure if I’d be able to love Starbucks back again. Of course I wish them all the success. They are a great business and they are super cool. I do hope they find love from more people.

As far as I go, I am sure something will come up. Do pray ;P

Till then,
SG

P.S.: I am writing this at a Starbucks. And I will no doubt continue to visit Starbucks and write and spend time and money. But the fanboydom, the love, the undying support, is gone!

A BMW

From my calendar.

Last year, on 26th July, I promised one of my mentors that I will have made enough money to buy a BMW by 26th Jul of 2015.

When I made that promise, I did not really have my eyes on a top end model, but on a simple X1. Which I thought was pretty doable – after all I am full of hope and I know I will do well in the future. Just that this future never comes. I have been full of hope for some 20 years now.

And thus the 26th of July in 2015 came and went and I am farther away from the beemer than I was on this date last year. In fact if I were to monetize all my assets and go to a car shop, I think I’d be able to afford a Tata Nano. May be. May be not. Depends on the shape of stock market.

And no, I am not proud of it. Instead, it sucks. And sucks like crazy.

Thing is, a BMW is not really important. Its just a placeholder. Placeholder for affluence, success, fame, impact, love, relationships and other things that you use to measure the grandness of life, measure the success, measure the respect that you get from the world around you and all that.

I mean, at my age, you ought to have achieved at least one of the following…
– create an unicorn
– make a ding in the world
– own a fleet of cars – including a Batmobile.
– earn enough money to retire at an island like the Necker
– use the leftover money to help others (not via NGOs) but via a ‘skills imparting business’
– make a trip to the space
– date a supermodel (Priyanka Chopra, Deepika Padukone, Julia Roberts etc.)
– ~~win~~ cash the WSOP ME
– exchange vows of life with the love of your life (after you found her of course)
– discover the purpose of your existence and thus the life
– travel the world
– etc…
and more.

But I haven’t done any of these. I am more than half-way my useful life span and I am miles away from any of these.

The least I could have done was to get myself a car. May be a BMW X1?

ABCD

Looks like acronyms are in vogue. After the last post on MIA, here is another one. This time, I will talk about ABCD. No, not the movie. But 4 things that I ~~want to~~ do in life. Why do I call these ABCD? Because I suck at naming things.

And since this is my personal blog, the post may appear as a rant on life. And no, dont expect me to come up with nuggets like the days are long and decades short or the seven intelligent fanatics. And dont expect any enlightening talks about how to work and all that. That’s something that I leave for people on Quora and for younger and more established people – which pretty much includes everyone. At my age, you see, most people are younger, richer, healthier, smarter and all that. I am a mere mortal who’s trying to live happily. Ever after. If only sgMS agreed to be a part of the ever after story.

So I am going to talk about things I do. After all that’s the point of a personal blog. These are simple silly things that non-achievers like me do and engage in.

So I primarily spend my time on doing 4 things. These are…

Thing A gives me money.
Thing B makes me happy.
Thing C is future earnings.
Thing D is all the hobbies (poker, guitar, #sleep, #book2 etc).

— Saurabh / SG (@saurabh) July 11, 2015

Let me talk about these for a bit.

A, is my freelancing gigs.
Where I work on event planning, event management, brand strategy, brand planning, marketing strategy, social media strategy and other such things for brands. I do this via my engagement with few agencies. Out of three “live” contracts (irregular work), I have worked with two as an employee and have hired the third as a vendor at some point in time. Lesson learnt? Relationship. Not talent, not hustle. Relationship.

In terms of talent, what I do is questionable. In term of hustle, the effort in put in is questionable. But end of the day, if I am pretty average with what I do and I am happy living in the closed confines of a 1RK shanty in an obscure corner of Mumbai and a third-hand Tata Nano, I can continue to do this!

But is that what I want from life? Isn’t being an illegal immigrant in US and working at car washes at minimum wage better? I think so!

You know, wolf and sheep?

Source: GapingVoid

B, is writing.
It could be a simple act of putting pen to paper. Or keystrokes on a laptop. And even though I may not be any great shakes with what I write. I may think of cliches all the time, I may use simple words to express simple thoughts, I may not able to write flowery language but I definitely am happy when I see words appearing on screen when I let my fingers do their trance-like dance.

In a few years I may realize that I do not have what it takes to be a writer that a large set of people may love to read. But I do know that if nothing else, I shall continue to write this blog. Of course time shall tell.

From my book, The Nidhi Kapoor Story. Did you buy?

Or may be I will continue to write my books with simple plots and simpler descriptions and non-evocative journeys etc.

C, is future earning.
This is where I open opportunities by talking to people, companies, friends, family and strangers. Hoping that they’d hire me some day. Assuming they can afford me.

This is probably the toughest part. In fact last two, three days I have been stuck with this and this is what has been eating me from inside out. I’ve written about this in detail in the past. As I go along, I will talk more about this as I spend a large chunk of my time on this.
Anyhow, when days like this happen one after the another, I tend to go back to pop-culture motivation-porn of Mr. Will Smith. Do see the following video. I hope it is not but even if it is scripted and Will has a team of people working for him, the video is insane.

I can watch it over and over and over.

And Oh, one more thing. Once I am done with this post, I am going to go start my hustle. What about you?

And D, ladies and gents, is hobbies.
This is where I go to recreate (of the recreation fame). Where I unwind. Where I chill. Where I am in the moment. Where I know I want to take a break from A, B and C. Things that include hobbies are poker, guitar, writing (combination of B). For each hobby, I have a tangible goal. For example, for poker, I want to win the WSOP ME some day (which incidentally is happening as we speak and there are two Indian-origin players in the final 101. For guitar, I want to perform on a stage. For travel, I want to do a RTW. For photography, I want to be able to sell my photographs to people for a million dollars and more.

Lofty? May be. Achievable? Yes!

I mean who thought Stu Unger could win WSOP ME three time? And back to back two times?

Stu Unger. The Idol.

So yeah!

These are the 4 things that keep my busy. And, as I leave, here’s a chart that I keep looking at all the time. IF there was a way to clue A, B, C and D, I would be achieve bliss.

No?

Source: Unkonwn. The point? Do things that you love and the world will pay for!

Over and out!

P.S.: Post # 3 in as many days!

Source: The sandcastle baby.

MIA

<rant>
When I am 80 (if I live till then) and I look back at 2015, the only thing I’d recall is that 2015 was the year when I was missing in action for a large part. Case in point? This blog! It’s been a month since I posted something. The last post that happened on 11th of June and today we are on 11th of July! A month. In my heydays of blogging, I would post something every 30 minutes!
</rant>

So, wassup boys and girls? (The one boy and one girl who read this regularly and the one girl who reads when she gets a break from motherhood. And the occasional surfer that strolls in while searching for something weird!)

Hope all is well with you.

For me, things are good. Could be better though. Been really tied up with the whole making ~~money~~ peanuts, meeting people to open more doors thing. These two tasks, when you don’t have a company’s name to back you up, are very sapping. So sapping that you tend to question the futility of even attempting it. So tiring that you question the very meaning of hustle. And even the re-runs of motivational shit like Steve Jobs’ speech at Stanford, Will Smith’s interviews about laying bricks and outrunning people on tread mill and that classic commercial by Versus fail to encourage you.

Take last to last to last night for example. I had a few meetings during the day. One of them gives me the money that allows me to afford a place in Mumbai. The other was an interview with a TV producer who may use me as a writer on a new TV show (my first). The third was catching up with a friend. And then there was this insane and expensive, if I may, travel to reach all these meetings. By the time I reached home in the evening, I was sweating like a pig. I wanted to take a hot shower and remove all the sweat, grime, dust, filth, heat from my body. I put on the water heater, stripped naked and yet, I just did not have the energy to get in the shower. Next thing I know, it’s 7 in the morning and I have this severe neck sprain – because I slept on a heap of books that I was supposed to read two weeks back.

More than these books that I should’ve read two weeks ago, there are a million things on my todo list that are pending forever. And the biggest and most important thing on that list? The startup that I want to do. That I am told is a billion dollar opportunity. Something that I know that the market needs. Something that can set me free for the rest of my life (in terms of money). Something that can help me make that ding that I so crave for. With each passing day where I am supposed to hustle AND work hard to back up the tall claims I make to my clients, the ding seems to be drifting away. Because the thing is that you can never predict the reaction of a client. Most tend to tell me that I do a good job and typically happy with what I deliver. But then I cant guarantee.

Yesterday was no different. Like I said, I had a few meetings. One went like a dream – I was unprepared but I sailed through. The other I thought I had worked hard on and I thought I had a winner and yet it bombed. Now I dont know how to evaluate what I do. Because I am at the mercy of my clients. And their shenanigans. And their moods when I present what I have worked on.
Thanks to such freak incidents (that are now happening with such increasing frequency these days that) I am sort of detached with the my output. Compare it to a time where I was so anal about delivery of work that I would keep tweaking things till the time the keys dropped off from the damn keyboard. Even while presenting things, I would continue to make changes. People asked me the point of making changes once I’ve made a deck and I would respond that I want my conscious to know that I have put in super hard work and I’ve been meticulous. I HATE (in caps) it when someone gives me something that is substandard. I may not be great shakes but I just can NOT (in caps) do shoddy work. Could not I mean. And no, it doesn’t mean that I do shoddy work now. It just means that I am detached from what I do. My work and I have become two different things.

Which brings to the next point. Who am I? If I don’t want my work to define who I am, what am I? Who am I? Unlike most my friends who have fancy things to say when they meet people (Hey, I am ABC. I am the head of marketing at DEF. Or, Hey, I am a writer who’s written the book that sold a million copies but no one read. Or, hey I am a Value Investor who likes to choose businesses that make a lot of money in long run), I have nothing to say. I just do NOT know what is the damn introduction. Or may be the damn thing on my epitaph. Epitaph? The stone that you put next to your grave when you die? Where you say things like, “here lies a man who served his country well and was around when his family needed him?”

That’s something that I think about a lot. My epitaph. What would it say. May be something about my crazy love for #sgMS. But I am told love is a fad and you have new love interests every year. Or it could say that I made a ding in the universe. Or it could say I lived life on my terms. Or you know what it could say?

It could say, I was Missing In Action all the fucking time!

Couch Potato

You know how Homer is happy doing nothing but drooling?

Dear Homer, Thanks!

That! That’s what I am up to. That’s all I do the entire day.

I dont know what’s wrong with me. I dont want to write, I dont want to read, I dont want to talk to people, I dont want to step out. I am happy sleeping on the sofa, eating Indian version of Doughnuts, drooling and doing nothing.

Of course this is not a permanent state. I am sure things would change and I will be back to the doing state. Till then…

Life and Death

I woke up on Monday morning to the news of demise of Parag Parikh in a car crash, in Omaha. He had gone to attend the Berkshire Hathaway shareholder’s meet.

Although I did not know Parag but I knew of him. He was part of the small close-knit value investor community in India (spearheaded by Prof. Bakshi). And since I have been wanting to be a part of this community, I knew of most people in the group (some are friends that I often exchange email with). Of course I am not good enough to be a part and thus I just knew of Parag (and others).

And even though I did not know Parag, for some reason, his demise has moved me. Probably because he is was one of those few who were working on something that they loved!

In contrast are people like me. The ones who have a million dreams and aspirations and yet we dont move a muscle to get closer to those dreams. We don’t realize that the life as we know it could be over in a minute and all those dreams would be left to rot after we are gone. We continue to breathe and do non-useful things and occupy space and resources on Mother Earth and kill time. Waiting for that inevitable end.

What use is the life of mediocrity when the great ones are not allowed to live to their fullest potential? Remember Steve‘s words? If you don’t it, now would be a good time to revisit what he said. Here is a snippet.

Via @adatar on twitter

All I can say to Parag is thank you so much. You were an inspiration. I was envious of you. Always wanted to be a friend (there were so many stories about you from people I know who worked with you). I promise I will make my life count!

Also reminded me of something that I wrote way back in 2009. And for some reason that Earthquake in Nepal that brought the country to its knees did not affect me. Neither did any other accident or something. Although Parag’s accident is just a news for me, it moved me. So much that I am reevaluating a lot of things.

Anatomy of a good day

Do you remember this ad by Cadburys? I love it. I am sure I have spoken about it. It says…
“I am happy. For no reason. I am happy, just like that.”

Today was one of those days when I am happy for no reason.

Let me make a list of things that I did today. I shall try and do those things again and again so that I could be happier.

Switched Off my phone when I slept the previous night. So when I woke up, at around 630ish, I did not look at any notifications (email, twitter, facebook, tinder and so on and so forth).
Went for a walk. Walked about 7 KMs in little over an hour. I hope to do this tomorrow as well.
Came back, planned my day. On little post-it notes. Exhibit A.
Breakfast. And read Goa Gallata by Surendra Mohan Pathak along with breakfast.
Chit chatted with roomie about random things while he had his breakfast.
Wrote on my other blog. Worked for a bit. On the list that I had created in the morning. While I ticked off a few things, got a call for an urgent meeting.
Meeting. Went ok. Learned a few lessons, met someone who at some point in time worked with someone who I want to work with now. Sent that person (the one I want to work with) an unsolicited request on LinkedIn. Haven’t heard from yet. And in the meeting, the guy I met, he told me that may be my time has come!
Spoke to a new friend about a new thing that he and I are together trying. Hint: Mastermind.
Got a call from a senior where he asked me to work on a project with him. He, to my mind, is amongst the sharpest people I know. And an opportunity to work for him can make or break careers.
Met a friend’s friend. For the first time 1v1. Loved meeting her and spending time with her. She is amongst the coolest people I know. Too bad shes happily married. I will write about her sometime. For the time being, do read this. Gave her a few copies of #tnks. Also see Exhibit B.
Got news from one of the work engagements that the client is angry
and disappointed with what I have done. I should’ve been sad about
things but I wasn’t.
Bumped into a really old acquaintance. Had a good discussion with him about his start-up, which incidentally is doing really really well. So happy for him. Glad that I bumped into him!
Worked for a bit. Sent a proposal out as the laptop battery was nearing 1%.
By this time, I was really really happy. Wanted to talk to someone. Ideally sgMS. But since I didnt have her, tried called Agony Aunt. She dint pick up. But its ok. Dint feel like talking to anyone else. I was so happy so content with myself.
Came home, was about to have dinner when I got a surprise gift. From Neo. Love him. Exhibit C.
Got calls from couple of more people who want to work with me. Ended up narrating the story of the day to one. Loved talking about the day. He gave me yet another thing to laugh about – if the trip to Goa is lucky for me at the casino, I must know that my time has come!
And as I write this, I have this stupid grin on my lips and a heart full of hope and a checklist of things to do that needed to be done as on yesterday. So I am now going to work on those.

That’s it!

I guess its a combination of lucky stars, eating right and the morning walk. I shall repeat this tomorrow and see if the day goes as well. However, if I could change a few things, I’d just want to have less coffee and little more equanimity. Like GuruJi often said, “this too shall pass.”

Oh, I would love to sit next to #sgMS while I recount the day that has gone by. But then I may not have her, but I do have her memories. That no one can take away from me. Can they? Anyhow, here are the exhibits!

Exhibit A: Things I had to do today. Most of which are still pending.

Exhibit B: A screenshot from a Jack Kerouac book

Exhibit C: A Yamaha F 310. Thanks to Neo. Love him!

P.S.: Last time I was this happy was when I received the first set of copies of my book in my hand. So almost 4 months.

Notes from Home Run

Its a lazy tuesday and since I finished my meetings early, I am home, watching a random movie – Home Run. And while watching, I realized a few things as I saw a “former” sports star struggle with his alcohol addiction.

Here is a list…

A.
I love sports. Though I would love to complete professionally, age is not on my side. May be pool. Or poker. I know, I know, they are not really sports. But I don’t have an option.

May be I could become a coach, a manager, an agent or something. I would love to be someone like Jerry McGuire some day. Or Mark Mascarenhas (if you guys don’t remember him, here’s a primer). I just need to figure out how to.

Side note, I would love to have someone at Hello. #sgMS had me at Hello. It was not hello but it was close.

B.
I have a severe addiction problem. Of multiple things.

I am addicted to Diet Coke. Though I haven’t had it since Dec now, I still carve for it. Every time I see it, I want it. And with each passing day, it’s getting harder to control.

Apart from that I am addicted to food. Yes. Food. I just want to eat. And eat. And eat. And I know that food addiction means more than just perpetual hunger is more to do with psychology (the part time shrink in my tells me that I am scared about some sort of impending famine. Need to see a shrink about it. Any recommendations?

Then there is this terrible addiction to daydreaming. Nothing wrong with it I guess. But I’d rather get things done!

Thankfully, I don’t have issues with alcohol or cigarettes. So that helps.

C.
With every passing day, I am getting sure that I want to move out of India. From a die-hard Indian fanatic to someone who wants to move on to other places, the damn change I think has finally happened.

Even though I am all for development and intelligent living, I so love small towns and community. I love to know everyone around me and yet I want to travel. And I want to be left alone when I want to. I want a simple life and a flamboyant lifestyle. What the fuck am I talking about? Damn it.

D.
I want to make movies. The damn medium is so effective that you just can’t forget a well made movie. Although writing gives me supreme happiness. I believe that the visual medium has to be the most effective means of communication ever. I need to somehow make the transition from writing to visual. Again, age is probably not on my side. But what great thing has happened without trying?

E.
There is no E. Just 4 things.

P.S.: It’s a very ok movie btw. You don’t have to see it. See Whiplash instead. But it did make me realize so many things. Now to write a better version of that film ;P