We hear this every other day.
Hustle.
Get on with it.
Push through.
March forward.
Wait. Pause! Why? Who are you “hustling” for? What are you “hustling” for? Why are you “hustling”?
Oh right. Money.
Nah!
Umm… Getting “there”!
No?
Hmm… Impress…?
Meh!
OK…
Then?
Let’s retract a bit.
The…
Startups and the destination addiction. The lessons we learned.
This article was first published in The Entrepreneur Middle-East, which can be viewed here: https://www.entrepreneur.com/article/274257
Start-up stories usually tell tales of vision & execution well done — building an amazing product, or delivering a fantastic service for the next big thing.
I recently flew from Mumbai to Dubai, returning from my short family-visit trip, back to the grind.
No sooner than I got comfortable on my seat on the aircraft, I was requested by my fellow passenger on my right if I could swap my seat with one of his colleagues’…
I came across this article a few months ago — I vividly remember how it made me feel at that time.
Then, as time has it’s way, I conveniently forgot about it.
Recently I re-discovered my Tumblr (I had completely forgotten I had an account there) — and saw the…
The brightness of the flame enveloped her gaze.
She watched closely as the flame grew, encompassing every inch of the paper. She watched the fresh remains of the ashes in creation, as it lurched to wrap the unburned yet, with an insatiable quench.
As the flame made it’s transition to fire, she felt the ground slipping beneath her feet.
She had changed her mind. She wanted to look at it once again, one last time, savour it. But the fire didn’t comply with her desires anymore — it had crossed the line of no return.
The tears kept flowing, in vain.
She felt helpless as she watched the last photograph she had of him, burn down and proselytise to frail ashes.
She didn’t have a choice but to bid goodbye.
Just minutes ago… it all made sense! It was just fine! Everything fell in pristine order, just as she’d known all her life to be… just as everything “worked” out for her!
A plan it was! A plan that always made sense! All predetermined, like everything else that drew up…
Five past six in the morning. The piercing siren of the alarm jolts him into wakefulness. He debates in that split open second whether he had heard that alarm before. Sleep beckoning, he abandons the question and involuntarily reaches out to put it off. He opens his eyes and makes…
