A boy's journey through words and the mixtapes. I write every Thursday.
We all want to be ‘The Hero of our own story’.
~author
Whenever possible, ask yourself –
Am I a good egg or the bad one?
Let the question guide you.
Let the question be your north.
Let the question help you earthen.
Let the question inspire you to soar.
Let the question, question your true utility in someone elses’ life other than yourself.
Let the question un-naked, un-burden, un-stress you.
Am I a good egg?
Namaste.
Comments closedIt’s important what you do and what you don’t with your time.
~ author
I’ve my finals for Web Application Architecture coming week on Saturday, May 20, 2023. Musicpervs shall resume as normal after that.
Clocks ticks. So will our time.
What’re you selling?
What have you been earn-ing?
What have you been buying?
Namaste.
Comments closedNo man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man
Heraclitus
This is absolutely random. These are few highlights of my lowly life in the past.
I was a boy who use to dream in my dream of owning an iPod shuffle — for the love of music. That little music player device launched by Apple on January of 2005. It was priced mere $99 for a base model then; Light years ahead of my acquisition aspiration.
I was a boy who long before I was able to afford a Honda Grazia, had to take public transports for almost 7 years right after high school, and have been through all the worst nuances possible that a public commuter goes through day-in-day-out.
I was a boy who have had to work for 3 months without pay in one of the software firm for the love of learning how to code.
I was a boy who couldn’t afford to rent an academic regalia also known as cap and gown for my undergrad. In that pretext, I remember Mr. Soong (then CAO of Islington College) teaching me never to beg for anything in life and rather earn it.
I was a boy who have had to earn enough to save enough to pay for my study since my high school. I had realized very young that I have to be the steward of my own ship.
I was a boy who was always dead broke no matter how much my paychecks went up over time.
I was a boy who had forgotten how to smile,.. how to laugh, how to connect to people. At times I’d deliberately watch comedy movies or something alike just so that I can stimulate the dopamine rush
I was a boy who’ve had tons of rejections. Name it. Europe. US. Girl.
I was a boy who’ve shed handsome volume of lonesome tears.
After almost one and half years of stressful application development experience on a startup firm , I had yet to go through the worst phase of my career as a manager. I was a lead of a new team that I inherited (didn’t form the team on my own), and remarkably failed at building connection with the old folks of that team. Self doubts, Gaslights. Anxiety. Insomnia. Anger. Rage. Unfair Judgements — were on the buffet. Maybe it’s my fault. Maybe it was just another lesson round the corner.
So many twists and turns in education.
So many twists and turns in profession.
So many twists and turns in life in toto.
I was a boy who’ve had to do a lot of mistakes to learn my lessons and navigate through life’s pacific.
Looking back, I adore these episodes of my life.
Looking back, I am grateful they happened.
Made in Mudpuddle.
I am better now.
Namaste.
Comments closedShe’s a keeper.
~ author
This past week I wrote something for my sister.
The idea about writing for her, about her, to her came to me naturally because
while these days I’m with her,
I still see how hard, how really really hard she works,
I see how she tries all her best to make sure that I’m cared for, that I am looked after, that I am comfortable.
Not only that.
I’ve been her for a month and this has been the longest I’ve lived with her after she got married. And as I watch her intently I can see the scars left by the claws of many, many shitstorms she’s come out of. I’m so fuxking proud of her!
I know anything I’d write for her would never osmoses through your skins because our experience with anybody, or anything — human, non-human is subjective. It’s always personal. Yes, for sure I can say, ‘she’s the best sister in the world’ or whatever but it doesn’t say anything about her (my sister) in particular. Because the idea of ‘best sister’ is so so many generic things.
But for sure, I can explain what I had written about her.
She’s priceless. This is personal, because there’re only very few people in my life that I consider non-disposables/ non-replacables.
She’s organic. Because, she’s hardcore authentic. She means what she means.
She’s selfmade. She owns her struggles. She owns her losses. She owns her victories.
Unpretentious. Original. Because, she will never do deceitful craps.
Kind & Lovely. Because, she really really does her best to care of people, to love them, unconditionally. However, it has to be earned though.
She’s a fighter, made of dreams. She has withered so many horseshits, she’s all about no bullshits. And, yes … she has dreams like any of us.
She’s a flower, made of beautiful stories! Because you will definitely feel her vibe and the absolute presence when she’s around. She’s fragile, she’s vulnerable, she’s beautiful, and if you’re lucky to be able to spend enough time with her and earn her trust– you’ll get to really understand her core and corners through her life’s ups and downs.
Namaste.
p.s. Tomorrow’s her birthday!
Comments closedThere are no cheatsheets to live a successful, happy, merry life. Life’s grind. ~ author
Yesterday it was my 5th interview for Bank of America, Charlotte, NC. Tomorrow we’ve one more scheduled for 2pm EST. It’s been precisely 5 months and 2 weeks since I started working for the bank as an Application Architect. However, little did I know, from the month of February, 2023, I would already start taking interviews for the new candidates across the bank’s many software development teams. Little did I know, from the 1st week of March, 2023, I would be an On-shore Dev Lead for an agile team I currently work at.
On one hand, It’s humbling to have trust of my manager, as well as the leads from other agile teams in the bank who’re also amongst the interviewers panel. While on the other hand, I’m also on perpetual spotlight; Where my actions, in-actions, my ways of communicating, deliberate listening, my ways of shaping the interview, my questions, my answers, every words I utter, words that I don’t, … generally my character as a whole is nakedly microscoped by the age-old, white-haired, wise and experienced employee of this giga-normous bank!
Side note: As of today, Bank of America provides service to it's clients from around 35 different countries with over 200,000 employees.
Little did I know I’ll have too much too soon on my vanilla, clean, scared plate.
Lastly, from someone who has taken 100s of interviews back home and already did plenty here, few takeaways for the prospective interviewee, plus a note to myself as well:
Caution: This is not The Template; it's merely just one of many templates that works for me -- specially for technical/ coding interviews:
Namaste.
Comments closedJust remember, you are lucky to just.be.alive. Remember more often.
author~
I have learned this very early when I was at the dawn of my teenage year.
We ought to have strong, ferocious, fearless appetite to chew, eat, and digest stress(es).
Jordan B. Peterson succinctly, and precisely put it, “Life is Suffering.”
It’s pointless to be whining about one.
Sweet reminiscent.
There have been plenty of anxiety-full instances in my life.
I’ve trembled in front of people — for real, not metaphorically. Shamefully.
I’ve had many, many, so many sleepless nights. They were painful.
I’ve had meltdown(s). I’ve cried alone countless times, because I’m clueless, directionless, afraid.
I’ve had episodes after episodes of terrible headaches, burning eyes, weary, soulless, ill-stricken body. Long days. Cold nights.
I swallowed them all.
This past week, I was talking to my twin brother about the same.
One of the greatest strength or call it virtue of a man and a woman is his/her capacity to wither storm, to be strong when situation demands one, to deliberately seek for discomfort, to invite stress(es) of utmost utility.
In short. Seek for right kind of stress. And, it is our ultimate responsibility to take care of ourselves, to be kind to ourselves, to rest, re-energize, re-walk as we navigate this treacherous peaks and valleys of life.
Lastly.
Can’t run from stress.
Can dissolve stress.
She will show up the next morning soon as you open your eyes.
She will demand a welcoming kiss, a warm embrace.
See,.. she’s not really a bad one to be around.
Balance is tricky so is challenging.
For, she grows in you.
You grow with her.
Namaste.
Comments closedAt the end of the day, if i can say i had fun, it was a good day.
Simone Biles
I’ve smoked twice in life.
Once, while I was barely hitting my puberty. I was perhaps 10 years old and wanted to try the thing. I have to confront I already knew it was a bad thing to get into but we do crazy things all the time.
That time, I remember taking a long, unbeknownst puff, swallowing shit tons of smoke into my lungs, which led me to vomit my soul out, and then I was done. I could barely breathe!
The second time I smoked was perhaps two years ago (though I’m not sure about the timeline).It was when I went to Pokhara with few of my friends for a 5 days trip. And, since I had always wanted to experience first-hand how it feels to be high on cannabis (marijuana), I didn’t know until that time that you had to smoke that thing out ‘again‘ to be able to fly.
I vividly remember, I really really didn’t like the feel of keeping that cigarette butt between my fingers while I was being taught the skill of smoking by the few around me. I wasn’t surprised, I failed that time around as well. I fxckxng couldn’t learn how to smoke and thus, didn’t get high — after multiple, multiple tryouts on act-of-smoking.
Which is why, my bucket-list of having an experiencing of being high on marijuana is still unchecked.
One thing is for sure, I will never smoke in my life… ever!
Likewise, Alcohol was a bliss. I purposefully started to drink it (be it beer, wine, whiskey, whatever that gets you high) just to have the feel of having grown up. Just to signal people around me that I am old enough to rock and steer my own boat.
Truthfully, I never, never liked the taste of the Beer or Vodka. Wine was an exception because it was sweet mostly, and yes so was Jack. Contrarily I enjoyed the height of high it can get you into. Plus, If I am not wrong, the last time I drank was perhaps a month ago with Sam and his wife at their apartment while we played cards and b.a.s.i.c.a.l.l.y enjoyed. They didn’t drink much but I know I was the one who poured in the last glass. On the inside I felt like I was as drunk as the Bear on the trailer of Cocaine Bear, on the outside I tried pretending as cool as a perfectly plastic wrapped cucumber.
The next morning I decided, I am done with drinking alcohol too!
Let’s see if this intentional resolution remains a resolution.
Namaste.
Comments closed“The greatest illusion,” said the mole, “is that life should be perfect.”
Charlie Mackesy
I had read the ebook version of the book The Boy, the Mole, the Fox – and the Horse by Charlie Mackesy on early 2020 — from start, all the way to the end in just about an hour or so. But then I wanted to buy this book on hardcover, and have it beside my collections of bedside books.
Finally Solution gifted me the book this week as we were talking about it on one of shopping trip to ‘Target’ in Richmond.
I bet, you will not regret spending your money on this world class but equally unflatteringly-simple, and digestible piece of work very much handy for our day to day contemplation of life in general. You can also find the video adaptation of this book on apple tv. Check on youtube for trailer by clicking here.
Skinning more on Charlie’s work — whenever I personally feel or tend to feel overwhelmed; I know i can always go through any random pages in the book and ultimately find peace with be it my on-hand or out-of-hand circumstances the way they unfolded. For, I for sure know this book is no less than a magical paracetamol for the feverish ones.
So, go my friend.
Enjoy the unwavering, fruitilicious, true-as-gravity wisdom with a cup of whatever you like –tea, coffee, soda, water.
Namaste.
Comments closed“Happy is the man who can make a living by his hobby”
― George Bernard Shaw, Pygmalion
I enjoy cooking. I didn’t know until I’ve been cooking more and more lately.
It’s been months.
Personally, It really doesn’t matter how food on the table ends up being but I deeply find the process of making — meditative. Chopping of vegetables. Watching the cook tutorial video over and over. Making sure the right amount of water, the spices and condiments goes in. Making sure I stir them frequently. The exhaustion of legs as a result of standing for a long time. Skin burns because of the oil and the hot utensils on fire. Food presentation. Cleaning the kitchen over and over. Doing the dishes and putting them where they belong and finally taking a satisfying well-deserved rest.
Cooking in a way has become my friend, a getaway place to dissolve my stress. An alternative to un-work my worked-up brain.
Never have I ever cooked to this extent ever.
Never have I ever thought I’d cook … i can almost anything.
I don’t know maybe this is a one new hobby I’m developing.
I don’t know maybe I enjoy cooking because in a way it is saving me one day at a time.
Namaste.
Comments closed