Set your life on fire. Seek those who fan your flames!

Set your life on fire. Seek those who fan your flames. - Rumi
I read this line and the first reaction I had was, "Oh Faaaaaaaakkk!"

The kinds that I often have when I see something exemplary, something out of the world, something that makes me stop in my track and take note. Something that makes me jealous. Something that I wish I had done (or said, or written, or achieved).

And its something that hasn't happened in a while. Last few days have been really really draining. I cant think of a reason though. Just that I've been under the weather couple of times, I have been missing #sgMS, I seem to be on losing spree in my poker home game, work hasn't been taking me anywhere, the inspiration for book2 seems to have run dry and so on and so forth.

Wait! I digressed!

I am here to talk about Rumi. Coming back.

So, yesterday a couple of days ago a few days ago my sis told me about Rumi. And told me about some of those million amazing things that he's said.

And I was blown (for want of a better word). I was "Oh Faaaaaaaakkk!" and I was more. I was inspired. It was like that awakening! I felt that all the years that have gone when I did not experience Rumi, I have wasted those!

Source: This website

Thing is, I had known about Rumi all along but I had never given him attention. I had dismissed him as yet another in the Kabir, Bulleh Shah category that I had planned to explore in detail once I have time. But then my sis told me about him and I was hooked! The calling, if I may, to read Rumi, explore Rumi is so strong, so magnetic, so unidirectional that I have to, have to read about him. And I have been reading things on wikipedia, browsing things on Pinterest and Facebook and all such places.

Each piece that I read takes me further. Each piece makes me think. Each piece makes me smile. Each piece makes me reflect on my life and my decisions and the state of mind I am in. Each piece is a golden nugget of advice. Each piece is apt. Each piece is a university degree in itself. Each piece is illuminating. Each piece makes you better. Each piece is so simple and yet so powerful that its amazing he could say it with such simplicity!

Go read some Rumi. Go get high on his simplicity. Go indulge your senses. Go put yourself at the mercy of the power of words. Go seek. Or may be, he's seeking you?

One of things he said was,
What you seek is seeking you.


So this is a long list of things that I hope I can achieve in life. I may or may not have the talent, skill, determination, energy, time et al for these but I would love to do these. And no, not to be confused with the bucket list.
  1. Write something as amazing as Hoshwalon Ko Khabar Kya. Here is a sample. And Write something as cool as Lag Ja Gale. Here. Basically write well. So well that junta wants to sing em. So well that it moves people.
  2. Get 10K followers on twitter. As of today, I have 2400 odd followers. 
  3. Travel only business class. 
  4. May be climb the Everest! 
  5. Spot a page 3 celeb reading one of my books. 
  6. Date a supermodel. The latest one to have caught my fancy is 
  7. Make a Fucket List. And do things on it. Yes, with an F. 
More as I go along.

P.S.: For the uninitiated, bucket list is where I get serious about things. #lifeGoals is more about vanity. 

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!

RIP Steve

Steve Jobs
Today Yesterday, in 2011, Steve Jobs passed away.

Normally I am very confused about how to react when someone passes away but when I heard about Steve Jobs, I remember getting a lump in my throat. I am not related to him, I have never met him. There was no reason for me to get sad about his passing away but I was.

I guess I was, and am, and remain a fanboy. For ever. For Steve, from a distance, by the virtue of his existence has...
- taught me the importance of doing things that matter (why do you do things you do rather than what do you do),
- taught me how to work (do your best work or dont do it at all),
- made me think harder on problems (till you reach the core issue and then attack it),
- often made me reconsider what I said / proposed (I have often asked myself, if Steve were to do this, how would he do it)
and more such things.

I am not sure if I am any better but I do know that I look up to him and I want to be like him. Someday. Wish I can! And if in life I end us as one-hundredth of one-hundred of what Steve Jobs was, I would die a happy man.

Thing is, Steve is like that Guru that I always wanted and yet never had access to. Remember Eklavya? No I am not comparing myself to E but I am comparing Steve Jobs to Drona. If I cant get any better, it is my problem. Steve has left behind tons of wisdom. And I have tons of time!

I hope if there is afterlife or reincarnation, Steve Jobs is back to doing what he does best - push the human race forward! And to end it, when Steve passed away, someone said, I quote...
There may be no greater tribute to his success than the fact that much of the world learned of his passing on a device he invented.
I look up to him. I want to be like him. I want to make that ding that he talked about. Someday. In remembrance.

Thanks Steve.

P.S.: If the life and work of Steven J does not inspire you, nothing will! For more about "Steven J" please watch this TED talk by Larry Smith.

Meri Jung - Anil Kapoor

If you are an Anil Kapoor fan, you would have seen Meri Jung. The plot is pretty simple. A happy home gets broken because a hotshot lawyer considers winning a case more important that serving justice. The son of the broken home grows up and vows to take sides of the honest and poor and may be take revenge on the hotshot lawyer. As a story ought to have, the two lawyers do eventually get into a tiff and the battle becomes personal.

The how, what, where and why are the part of the narrative and the movie. If you haven't seen the movie, you have to see it to experience the awesomeness.

Source: Wikipedia
I would have seen the movie a million times while growing up. And the movie had such profound impact on me that I wanted to become a lawyer (at other times, while growing up, I had wanted to become a detective, a policeman, a cricketer and a few other things). Like Arun Verma, I wanted to be able to play some sort of music that only my family knows of (like an anthem that only my family has access to). Like Arun Verma, I wanted to be the overnight success (from the looks of it, the only way I would ever have any real money is if some miracle happens and I get successful, overnight!). Like Arun Verma, I wanted a girlfriend that secretly loved me and when professed, she's fall in my arms and vow to never leave me again.

There are just too many memories of the movie that the day I can afford a home theater thing at my place, I will buy a DVD. And watch the movie till I am successful ;P

Oh, and here is a question for you. Which other movie did Anil Kapoor play Arun Verma in? Get this right and I'd send you a copy of my book, The Nidhi Kapoor Story. Serious. Shipping in India only though :)

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,

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!

The last 15 days

Just because it's the 1st of the month, here is a post. Also because I haven't written anything in a while, I ought to write -- isnt that what writers authors do? Also because I feel obligated to share the way world I see, after that near-death experience (I shall talk about it in a bit). Also because the year has been very unkind as far as my heath goes. And because if I dont rant, what else will I do? And because writing on this blog allows me to "express" myself. Express in the classical expression way. I have to.

Last I wrote here was some 15 days ago. Why 15? Because 8 of those 15 were spent on the bed. Why on bed? Because I ate some stupid pasta at a fancy restaurant (Aromas at Powai) and a puff at a five-star (Orchid at airport) -- please fight it out gentlemen. And the other 8 were spent in gloom. Why gloom? If you know me, you'd know.

The thing is, while I was on the bed, recuperating from that bout of food poisoning, I realized a few things. For starters, I cant handle this entire "being unwell" business well. I become a prick and I am a pain in ass. And I become this monster that I believe is very uncharacteristic of me. I try hard but I cant not do it. I end up hurting people that I mean to take care of. I try to be decent but I fail at it. Guess there's just one way to solve the thing - don't fall sick!

So last two/three days of recuperation have been spent in trying to not get unwell. That translates into no more street food. I've grown up in Delhi and I had these amazing guts of steel. I could eat whatever and I could have any sort of gastrointestinal attack and could digest even a brick. But not any more. May be with age, the steel has atrophied, the acids in my stomach have stopped performing. Who knows. But I now have to look and pause and think before I put things in my stomach. From now on, everything goes. Except McDonalds. Please. That's something I cant do without. There is something about fried batter and potatoes that I cant resist the temptation of. In fact, I start writing this at home and I am finishing it at a McDonalds. But apart from McD, I shall eat at home and avoid baahaar ka khana as long as I can.

Help me with it. And, just in case you were looking for a sign, look no further.

Source: Unknown

And on the 7th day

Since I started working (full-time, post my MBA in 2006), I have never ever felt the need of a "weekend" or a break. I could work long hours and I could continue to work long hours for weeks on the go (My personal "best" is a 4-day long "workday," without sleep and with a lot of food and gas).

Until the week gone by.

I can't remember of a time when I was so tired exhausted with work that I needed a vacation. May be because I take tons of time off to travel and engage in a thousand projects and a million hobbies. I do multiple things at the same time and thus I use different parts of my brain at different times. Or may be because I have worked in advertising, events and startups where every day is a new challenge and work is not repetitive. May be because I have always had great bosses to work for and they allowed me all the freedom to do whatever I wanted to do. Or may be I was plain lucky?

I dont know the reason but as such I've never sort of 'appreciated" the concept of a weekend.

Until the week gone by.

For some reason, the last week brought about a change. Even before the weekend started, I prayed, wished hard and I did not want the Monday to arrive. When it finally dawned, I wanted it to get over fast. Tuesday I did not want to get out of my house, but I had to. I was exhausted by Wednesday. Thursday, I crawled out of my home. I hated everyone. I was grumpy. I was rude to people for no reason. I was not me. I wanted to ask a girl out - I blew it. Friday I was literally begging for the week to end and give me some time to recuperate. And as luck would have it, Friday turned out to be the longest day. And when I finished work on Saturday afternoon, I was so elated that I could actually count it as amongst the happiest moments of my life!

Of course throughout the week, I continued to work and tried to give my best -- which at times is brilliant (from my lens), most times good enough (for people I work for) and often half-baked-half-hearted attempt (for #sgMS). I could elaborate but this is a rant for a different place, different time.

You know, thing is, the world I come from, either you work or your parents set you up a grocery store or a sweets shop (Garg Kirana or Garg Mishthan Bhandar). And as such, I have inherited middle-class ethos where work is above everything else and you simply do what you are asked to do. There is no time to crib, to be tired, to get exhausted, to look forward to the weekends, to crack jokes, to be happy about life. Money is tight and there is no entitlement that helps you tide over the hard times. You work. Or you sit at your grocery store and peddle soaps and shampoos. Of course you could choose to live under a bridge and die of hunger.

With time, thanks to the world we live in, things have become easy and I no longer have to hold a steady job. I have enough work that allows me to make some money, helps me pay my bills and yet have some left over to buy things I like, travel to places I want to, get those occasional gifts for the ones I love. And I am so so thankful to the stars that have allowed me to reach such a place. I know I am luckier than a lot others. I got dealt a pretty ok hand in the ovarian lottery. And the stars dont really work for you unless you put in time and effort. So, there was never a thing about weekends. There was never a break.

Until the week gone by.

I really needed a break. And I actually loved my sleep last night. I missed my Sunday breakfast ritual with VG but that's ok. He'd understand.

While I write this, I am thinking what changed over the years is wrong with me. Lemme indulge my obsession with (of?) making lists and try to list the things that come to my mind.
  • A, I am definitely older (and more depressed). And I am not getting younger (or happier) ever. So I have less physical energy, more stubborn ways, more toxins in my body, more patterns that are so set that I dont want to disturb, lesser neurons, more judgmental decisions and so on and so forth. It hampers my inability to get things done!
  • B, I am suffering from a terrible mid-life crisis and I am trying to overcompensate by drowning myself in work. I am jealous of everyone around me who seems to be happy (look at their FB timelines), doing meaningful work (that is actually changing the world and putting that ding, making money (the convertibles and automatics and third houses that these people are buying), climbing up the corporate ladder and doing well on all such metrics.
  • C, I am trying just too hard. For everything - money, relationships, achievements. And I am not seeing any results. May be because I dont know the direction that I want to move in. It sucks to work like an ass. And come to think of it, I have always talked about smart work being better than hard work. More than results, it is my inability to drive my destiny.
  • D, my inability to get things done. I mean look at this idea that I've been sitting on for almost 6 months. I just cant get it to work. While I sit on the sidelines, the world has taken it and went to another level altogether!
  • E, as #sgMS says, my mediocrity. Thing is, if I were dumb, I would have been content with a job that gave me some money, some respect, lot of grief, long weekends and occasional 5% raise. Or if I were brilliant, I would have had some impact on the world already (look at other 30-odd years old men - Zuckerberg, Altman, Dhoni et al. Hell, I dont need to go far. There are examples in my immediate surrounding - one of my ex-bosses, my classmates from MDI, my friends from school and college). Most people today know what they want in (aka from) life. And they are at it. Moving forward. If not fast, then one step at a time. I, on the other hand, am taking pleasure in ranting about my life. Case in point? These two tweets
  • F, oh my fetish with Masochism and Self-flagellation. I revel in misery I think. No wonder I dont have many friends. And funny thing is, life has been very kind to me. Really kind. I am a man of my free will. I am fat (and thus have enough food in my belly). I can afford a spacious place in Mumbai. I can take occasional weekends off. And I can dream. And I have all the things that are required to get that ding-worthy project off the ground. I want to enable people to see their purpose and do grand things - I have the opportunity to go ahead with it. I just dont do it. I dont know why. 
  • G, I leave too many open windows. More on this later. 
Phew! I am tired. And elated. Tired because I am generally tired. And elated because I just wrote for some 40 minutes (this post). And writing gives me happiness like no other thing.

And in an otherwise ok mood because I am rested. I have an exhibition to go to. Hope it is worth the time and effort. Hope you're having a great weekend. Hope things are working out. Lemme end this with a cartoon by Hugh.

And of course, hope you (and I) do something that matters!

Over and out.

Notes to self
1. Elaborate on half-baked-half-hearted attempts and Open Windows some time. 
2. Stop using to many ands.
3. Find a solution for self-flagellation. 

On the clock

Here is a new experiment. I will write for the next 24 or so minutes. I will not think about what I write. I will not edit what I write. I will not proof read. I will not do a grammar check. I will not do any "post production." I will post.

Screencap of an screen.

I will use to track 25 minutes. Starting now...!

So why this experiment? Because I havent written anything in a long time. I mean I have written but that's been work related writing. Next to negligible (if there is a word like that) for recreation. And come to think of it, I really really love writing. I may not be great at it but I love it. It allows me to express what I cant often speak out loud. It makes me research things. It makes me put things in perspective. It gives my thoughts a structure and a flow. And I get in the other flow - the one that you get in when you are totally immersed in a task. When I write, my writers block, my pseudo depression goes away. I am in the moment. I am in the zone. I feel alive. I am not lethargic. I am not lazy. I dont think of anyone else. May be I do think about #sgMS but not anymore.

As I write, to accompany is some music by RD Burman in the background. Streaming on youtube. The phone is one the night mode. So apart from people in the favorites list I will not get any phone calls. And anyhow who is going to call me? I spoke to my sis already during the day. I am meeting Neo for dinner. My parents have now adjusted to my bouts of absence. And I just finished whatever little work I had on my plate. Of course I have to make some phone calls to get people to do their bit of work. Which they may or may not have done. But I will still have to remind them.

Wait. The track got over. I need to click on a new track. Back in a second.

Back. A quick glance at Eggtimer tells me that I have 20 odd minutes left. Another thing that I would want to do at the end of this excercise is that I would like to know my speed. I would copy paste this post into word and see how many words I typed. Why? I dont know. I have this thing for random data. Like for example, do you know of the Golden Ratio (I shall resist the urge to insert the hyperlink to the Wikipedia article on Golden Ratio, since I am on the clock)? The ratio of 1:1.6? Its insane. And then do you know of the numbers of playing cards? There are 52 cards. There are 52 weeks. There are 4 suits. There are 4 seasons. The total of the face value of all cards is 364. Etc. I love numbers. Just that I am not cool enough to chase my love for mathematics and dive deep in to it. For that matter I dont think I can deep dive into anything. I love being the jack of all trades. And I want to continue to be that. I recently read somewhere that its easy to learn about 70% of any discipline. And from there on, the journey gets tough. So most people would get easily to about 70% of any discipline that they choose. But only a few go beyond that 70%. And that's why we see a few people rise to top while most struggle in mediocrity. I think I have been blessesd that I "get" upto 70% of most things without putting too much effort. This ability allows me to straddle across disciplines. But the lack of expertise in any one stops me from making that impact.

Impact. Damn the word. And damn this guys called Hugh (runs the popular GapingVoid blog - he has been posting things about doing "things that matter" for last few days - again resisting the urge to post link). Wait the song got over. Lemme switch the next one.

I have 13 minutes left. So I wrote for some 7 minutes. More than my ability to concentrate, it was the track that was in the background. The track that I put on now is about 5 minutes long. So the next break will happen when I have 8 minutes left. Ok.

So I was talking about impact. Blame on the universe conspiring (I tweeted about it yesterday, or may be day before). I sincerely believe now that universe does conspire. There are a million examples in front of me. When you want something really bad, you actually get it. Not that I have got what I want (what do I want? simple - money, freedom, opportunity, love, travel). But I am seeing signs of things coming to me. I mean who would have thunk that I would be making my ends meet without having to hold a regular job? Of course I am working harder than a regular employee but I am happy. I can control my time. I can choose what to work on. I can get away from dirty work (P.S.: I think no work is dirty. More on this in some other post).

Ok I am now scratching my head. I think I am stuck. But I shall continue to write. So apart from impact the other thing I chase is making a difference in the lives of people who make me a part of their lives. I love it when I can help people learn things. I may not be the teacher per se. I could merely be someone that triggers something in their head that makes them chase some knowledge. I could be the conduit. I could be the catalyst. I could be that bottom most step on a ladder that helps people rise. And shine.

Wait. Time to change the track. 7 mins, 50 seconds to go. And 19% battery on the laptop. Brb.

Back. I put a 5 minute lone song. Main Koi Aisa Geet from the movie Yes Boss. I shall not post a link. I love the song. So so much. For a ton of reasons. Its SRK. Its a cute love story. Its about making someone you love happy. Its about you being that jester that exists only to make other people laugh, smile and be happy. In an alternate universe I could be a jester, if I could choose. I mean I want to be one in this life as well. But I lack the balls that it takes to try and make other people smile. No wonder I like being part of the entertainment industry. Well, not a part. But at least the fringes. May be, just may be, the meaning of my life is to be that jester? And use my [questionable] understanding of various disciplines to create something that makes people happy? Even if that happiness is for a fleeting moment? May be that's what the universe is trying to tell me all along? May be thats my purpose?

Oh purpose! I have had long discussions with two of my gurus over the last few days. Again, I shall not post links but the gurus are RG and KG. Both are a part of the communication industry and whatever little financial security I have now is because of these two. And because of HG and VK. Wait I am digressing. But thats ok. I am not getting any points for staying on track. The points are to be awarded for continuing to write. Which I am thankfully doing.

Another thing that I could talk is the ongoing shit on my head about my advancing age. It actually happens around this time of the year, every year. And I dont know what to do about it. Wait. Time to change track. Probably the last track. I have a minute and 40 seconds left to go. 

Back. The next is Chaand Taare Tod Laaon. Again, a track that I love. It is all about ambition and all that. Something that I can totally relate to. Anyhow. A thought struck me. Do I want to write for 25 more minutes? I thought as I wrote and the answer is... No!

Why not? If I like writing so much?

Damn the buzzer just rang. Time's up!

More later! 

So I am done. 

I am not editing anything. I am not adding links. I am not correcting grammar. I am not formatting it any different. I am not touching the bit I wrote. If you are a psychologist, may be you want to do an analysis? 

And as I was adding labels (read tags) to this post, I realized that I just did a session of free writing. Sounds interesting. Will explore. Until next time, over and out. And a random number fyi, I wrote about 1300 words, excluding this and the note on the top. Which is not bad, if you ask me!

Talk to Do ratio

If the numbers are to go by, this is the worst year of my life so far, in terms of number of posts I've made on this blog.

I mean look at the screenshot. This is the twelfth year of writing a blog and apart from the first two, the only other year when I wrote so less was 2010. And in the last four year, I have averaged more than 100 posts per year. Why do I care about how much I write? Because I am a writer. And I want to be better one at that. And unless I practice my craft, I will not become what I want to become.

Like all other lapses when I haven't been able to write for long duration, I have multiple excuses. The first one among those is that work has kept me busy. The other is that I just havent felt like writing.

Now, is that a good thing? Of course not. And what am I doing about it? Nothing as yet.

So here's the deal. I will post something on the blog everyday, starting today. Till the end of the year. We should thus end the year with 150 odd posts - making this year the second best year of my blogging life. Now that's a great goal to chase!

I know. I know. I have made this promise umpteen times in the past. But then in the past I was not touching 33. And I am not getting any younger anytime. The time to do shit is now.

Oh, one more thing. A dear friend (RN09Dec) recently told me that I start a million projects and then never work on those. And when I do work, I dont finish. When I discussed this with kAgE and Agony Aunt, kAgE told me not bother as the projects left unfinished are left abandoned for a reason. And AA told me that my "talk to do" ratio tends to zero and in long run, people who have a high talk to do ratio do well. And I want to do well. And I shall work on improving this. Any tips anyone?

The Nidhi Kapoor Story

Did you like this post? May be you want to read my first book - The Nidhi Kapoor Story.

Check it out on Amazon or Flipkart?