On Why I Write

For more than 10 years now, I have been a corpoarte worker.

I have changed more jobs than an average Indian (5 jobs), and I have changed more industries than average (3 industries) in search of that elusive things known as corpoarte happiness (an oxymoron if there ever was one).

Wherever I worked and whatever I did, there always seemed to be something missing, an emptiness gnawing away at my soul. The money was good, but then is money everything?

I would always grumble about my role, crib about my boss, complain about the mundane job and wallow in depression-inducing misery. After every new job, there would be a honeymoon period of 6 months after which frustration with work would start building up. And after a year or so of hyper-frustration, I would start looking out for a new job. And the cycle would continue.

Until one day I realized that perhaps changing jobs was not the solution.

Because the problem was not the job in the first place – many people had happily done those jobs before me and many would gladly continue to do the same. The problem was then with me and my attitude towards jobs in general.

I went back to the root cause. I re-read through the course material of Chinmaya Mission’s Bhagavad Gita course and recalled Shri Krishna’s instruction to Arjuna during the Mahabharata War. This gave me the first glimpse of the root cause of my unhappiness.

I had forgotten who I was.

I used to be a free spirited individual in my younger days. As I grew up and become more “educated” (Computer Engineering followed by an MBA in Finance) and entered the hallowed walls of corporate jobs, I slowly began to sacrifice all those ideals of freedom which I used to hold sacrosanct.

In fact, this is something that many people face. When we are ignorant of our identity or when we forget who we really are, delusion (moha) about what to do arises. Confusion or delusion about what to do (moha), leads to grief (shoka). It causes endless tension for us and others. When we are made aware of our identity or reminded of it, then the confusion and grief automatically disappears. Only happiness remains.
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And that is what I doing right now – trying to discover who I really am, and doing all those things which come naturally to me. Writing is one of them. If through my writing I can help even one person introspect and realize who he or she really is, I would consider myself successful and blessed.