A start-up state of mind

Midlife Musings

4,728 hours, or 283,680 minutes or 17,020,800 seconds ago, I took a little sledgehammer and broke open my life. This ‘self-made’ me stood amidst these self-made smithereens and lit a little self-made fire. I stepped into a start-up state of mind.

But like anyone who has fantasized about beginning an exercise regimen or quitting smoking, states of mind are nothing without a body that follows. After some well-deserved navel-gazing, I took a deep breath, in hazardous AQI, and proceeded to reclaim my rightful place in the rat race—where else but LinkedIn, the networking site for narcissists.

I trawled the portal for ‘opportunities’, the unemployed world’s polite word for paid work, applying for any that matched my depleting bank balance and sinking self-esteem. I stalked hirers, attempting to ingratiate myself with them, even those who present their successes as though they are single-member teams.

From these meanderings, 1,320 hours, or 79,200 minutes or 4,752,000 seconds ago, I landed a gig, in the gig economy, as a gig’s newest oldest pepper-haired intern. Variously defined, my favourite two meanings of ‘gig’, besides the commonly understood ‘entertainer’s engagement’ are, one, something that whirls or is whirled, and two, a rowboat designed for speed rather than for work. One glance at my LinkedIn will tell you that I’m the archetypal opposite of a gig. The bulk of my 23 year-long career has been in the employ of but two companies -- large labyrinthian ships that cannot even slightly lilt, leave aside tilt -- and I have loved, fumblingly badly, lived with, fortunately fabulously, and been livid at, with conscientious consistency, the same one human company for nearly 20 years.

But from the bottom of the barrel, the bottom-line is that one gig is better than no concert.

Start-ups may be small but have big hearts in the business of giant leaps of faith. The start-up state of mind is a bottomless Blue Tokai, the kind these ‘start-uppers’ seem to be able to sip interminably at cafes, balancing Macs on their laps, doing magic and fantasy with imaginary math. The start-up state of mind is of everyone in a hurry but no one in a rush. There’s even time for Friday evening no-reason-at-all hugs. The start-uppers didn’t struggle with my age, but I did with their youth. But once I decided to embrace the brutal pace, the fresh-faced start-upper was Botox for my fine-lined face. At the bottom of the food chain, the intern also gets eaten last, but always gets her metabolic share of the plenty Swiggy-supplied Theobroma treats. After years of the buck stopping at me, being befuddled was akin to a brain cuddle. As much as the midlife mind can be as messy as slime, the start-up state is a clean slate of the sublime.

As for the start-upper, majority millennial, she is generous. She’s militant but not flaring-nostrils arrogant or unpleasant. She’s as congenial as she is competent. She understands that hard work is its own brand of Harvard -- the party can wait, and so she focuses on the Gantt as hard as she does on her GRE, her personal GDP. She doesn’t carry her politics to work, but she’s very clear who is and who isn’t a jerk. The millennial is never obfuscatory or vacillatory -- she is sure of mind and steady on her feet. She is loyal to her alma mater, recommending her mates to every head-hunter. She is persuasive without any power because even if self-partnered, the millennial can call for a chauffeur-driven car. The millennial is straining to go places. If ‘New India’ doesn’t give her her five acres, she will take her ‘Made-in-India’ self to New Zealand or New Agra, riding an Uber before a certain 1959-born Baby Boomer even finishes spelling O-l-a.

Re-starting India is going to need more than a prayer or an anthem, the solution may lie in a start-up state of mind and Billy Joel’s Turnstiles’ album.

“It was so easy living day by day, out of touch with the rhythm and blues. And now I need a little give and take, The New York Times, The Daily News. It comes down to reality, and that’s fine with me ‘cause I’ve let it slide.”