Happy New Year
It was a Sunday morning. Like most Sunday mornings I was expecting dread with breakfast. I suspect many others who took the train with me to business districts every day were also expecting it and experiencing it as well. All of us in identical shades of blue shirts, mimicking our mood - bought online, carrying our tiffins with a bulky laptop to boot, switching between Huberman and Latest Bollywood hits on Spotify - all of us on a singular mission of increasing shareholder value, while wondering if we would get a seat on the train that would always be running late on Monday mornings. What was unknown to me on that morning, however, was that the dread was not about the upcoming week. I had been numbed into believing that working diligently was the purpose and mission of my life, among other things. ...