Personal Achievements

30 years of my life, gone. I achieved nothing - which to be honest, doesn't come as a surprise. Only about six years back, thoughts of suicide seemed interesting. I carried on, finding suicide too as meaningless. That I can now think of achievements again may be the only achievement that I count of.

I did make some money too in the way. It is probably enough to settle in Himalayas for the rest of my life – which would've been a dream in my 20s – to escape the immense pressure of making good money. There was no pressure from my parents, who still live a content middle-class life. My protected and blissful childhood didn't drum it in me to get ahead and move upwards. The escape to Himalayas seemed achievable and desirable.

But it was the sudden appearance of money-power in post-globalization India that pushed me into the whirwind of money-making. I consciously played along with those who find money to be the ultimate solution to all problems.  Having spent  a middle-class childhood surrounded by more books than toys and gadgets, I knew that money didn't buy happiness – but in the times when consumerism had dawned on Inidia, I suddenly found lack of money to have been the root of all my problems.

With the sort of upbringing I had, I was meant to find a stable job, get married and follow this quintessential tradition of my forefathers. But now I was suddenly supposed to ride a honda, buy designer clothes every season, impress a hot woman of the same status and interests, listen to cool music and eat at expensive restaurants. I was short of money.

The safety-net of the olden days, when it wasn't considered shameful to be supported by your family and when money wasn't the sole end-goal of life had withered away and we were left in this Bangalorean world of shiny bikes, hot girlfriends and macho-coolness. I didn't fit anywhere in the picture and longed for the world when pursuit of a deeper meaning was possible.

Running up to Himalayas sounded like an escape and I ran away. I would've felt dead if I lived in the moribund Bangalore. I don't regret it. I think that was the best thing to have done. Even though it was my  own helplessness that made the new globalized world appear a dejected place, my escape from it was what gave me a second chance to look at this new world in a different way and find my place in it.

When I started from zero, I could set goals for my life, I could choose my friends or choose not to have any. I held myself responsible for what I did and who I am, instead of feeling as having been setup and victimized everywhere.

A new confidence was born and some money came on the way but the fear of taking risk still lingered because of this escape from my habitat. I could no longer enjoy Rafi and Mukesh. I felt that it was a part of my own humiliated past, an era that was effaced and forgotten for hip-hop and sexual liberty. Shunning one's past is never without feeling a little humiliated – I later realized.

Spending time in New York, I wished to become a movie-director. But this uncertainty of one's own past, the humiliation, prevented me from seeking interested partners and or pursue film-making seriously. It was as if I had lost a voice. I could never up the camera – because there was nothing to shoot or cherish for me. I became afraid of my background, afraid of being judged. In my mind I was hating the world dominated by big media and shallowness but in reality I was mourning the death of my own voice.

Afraid of taking risks and having spiraled into depression, I was soon to discover finding female partners much more difficult. What happened with a lack of voice was a little worse. The lack of female company made sexual pleasure a fantasy, so much so that the real sex wasn't as much fun any more. The fantasy element seemed more interesting. The wish to have sex with a girl who lived on the block seemed more interesting than going to a club and approach sex in conventional ways.

Sex too, became a way for denying the fear of rejection. It probably had always been like that, it's just that the new liberties, the freedom to choose your surroundings exposed the reality. If I had retired to Himalayas or had lived the centuries old tradition of having an average job and raising families responsibly, I would've have experienced the cycle of rejections and failed relationships.

Fighting rejection, I soon wasn't interested in women who were interested in me. Since I wanted to overcome my shortcomings, I wanted to get women who were not interested in me. I wanted them to like me while always hating myself for being not good enough for them.

It was now that I realized that my limits in my world were posed more by my self-hatred and fear of being rejected than because of my background. It is this lack of voice that was causing my misery. I had to go back and correct myself where I had gone wrong.

New York might have given me great opportunities but it also perpetuated the view that money is a panacea to my personality issues. I thought that making money, would have me rise up in the social ladder in this great melting pot. I didn't know that backgrounds still did matter. Expression of power was necessary to survive. Money did buy things and although it was fun throughout, I slowly realized that you needed loads of money to stay in the game and more importantly to mend your ever shredding personality.

I had to correct myself. Goals in life are never linear and pursuit of money is pointless for the most part. You try making money and when you realize that you have some, you are already entrenched in a system that would never let you free. You need money, but your dreams of a possible quiet life in the Himalayas are more distant than they once were. You try to talk yourself out of the dream of settling in Himalayas that you once had. 

I knew from the very beginning that I wasn't made for living this dream of monetary glory but when I wasn't left with many options, I went with the flow. I do like feeling victimized and conjure reasons for not having taken risks in life. What needs be pursued is not money put passion. Passions don't survive in the world without money but yet money isn't what drives passion. Ignoring financial constraints may leave you penniless and deny you all experiences that might help you live your passion but caring for nothing except finances can do worse - deny you of passions which you wanted to have money for in first place.

If you don't pursue what you love, then you're left with what you hate the most.