Showing posts with label Mother. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mother. Show all posts

Saturday, September 13, 2014

Going Corporate, Going Startup

Medium (TV series)
Medium (TV series) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)


This Medium post has been a social media viral hit the past few days.

How quitting my corporate job for my startup dream f*cked my life up



Why was this post a big hit?

It is well written. The title is catchy. Many more people do startups these days than was true before the 2008 recession. The title speaks to fears many people have. Most people avoid going into the startup grind because deep down they know it is going to f*ck up things.

The post has great introductory paragraphs. The writer seems to be a classic success story. He got a great education, then landed a great job. He was flying business class.

Then he pinches you the reality. It was not all that great. He was mostly staring at spreadsheets, all night long, all flight long. A lot of people relate to that.

They say that about marriage. People who are out, want in. People who are in, want out. People who are married think singles are having more fun. Singles think married people are having more fun.

A great, catchy title with great first few paragraphs can create a social media hit.

But even after that, the post is pretty good. It gives you a pretty good idea of what a sinkhole a startup can be.

One element though is missing. He is not talking about his idea. You don't create a successful startup just because you quit a great job. It is about your idea, and your execution.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Deaths In The Family

a Sadhu in Vârânasî, India.Image via WikipediaMy grandmother, greatgrandmother and greatgrandfather all died within a span of two years, in that order. A few years later my grandfather one morning left home without telling anyone to become a sadhu in the holy places of India for the rest of his days.

The Mourning Period

My greatgrandfather had been the Founding Father of the family. His had been a rags to riches story. He was not born a landlord. But he worked hard and, ably helped by my greatgrandmother, saved well to end up with more land than anyone else in the village.

I was a few years from finishing high school far away - overnight bus ride - in the capital city when the deaths happened. They each happened when I was home for vacation. I would be home three times a year.

I did not realize at the time but over the years I realized as I do today that those deaths were like there was an umbrella over the family's head, and suddenly that umbrella vanished. My father acutely felt their absences for long years. He likely still does.