Zinda.

Passion vs Profession

| The Ikiguy

Is your life precious to you, if yes, in what things would you like to invest this precious life into?

Questions to ask yourself

Do you love what you do every day?
Do you have dreams and aspirations to do something else?
What energizes you?

What can I do today that energises me?

How to spot your passion?

Energy.
What is that thing, which energises your mind, body and soul?
If it energises you, that’s your passion.

Quora.com

Passions where there is MONEY!
Baker
Investor
Cooking

“History is made not by intelligent people but by the few crazy ones.”

Passions where it is difficult to make MONEY! [Not at all impossible tho!!!!]
Writer
Dancer
Actor
Cricketer

Need some motivation for Passion?!?

My fav part is definitely at 9.54mins!!! He’s awe-inspiring and down to earth 🙂 RIP Kobe san

What are different types of passions?

Why people choose profession over passion

Fear.
Fear of not making it. Fear of the unknown.

Money.
Too risky to make a living out of it?

How to convert passion into profession?

Does your passion help in solving problems out there?
Fuse your passion with problem statement into a sustainable business model.

Money.
Find a way to monetise your passion.

“We have been accustomed to the habit of purchasing and consuming readymade or prescribed decisions that have been practising since a long time.”

On ‘Going with the Flow.’

Factors to consider

Age
When you are young, you have greater appetite of taking risks.

Responsibility
When one has obligations it becomes difficult to navigate through passion, since we live in a Real world with Real needs. Nevertheless, it is never IMPOSSIBLE.

Money
People usually prefer well paying,safe jobs over risky passionful dreams.
It is a very big limiting factor when it comes to pursuing your dreams.

Threats to Passion.

Inability to market skills.
Inability to convert Passion to Profession.

Some Excellent advice.
“If your passion is not monetisable, don’t just do only passion. Work a job as well for the money with following your heart.” – Chetan Bhagat, Author.

Buzz words

References.

For those Who love to read!!!

  1. https://inspiroblog.xyz/entrepreneurship/pursuing-passion-and-ambition/
  2. https://mondaymorning.nitrkl.ac.in/article/2019/02/04/2227-passion-or-profession-a-constant-confusion/

For those who love to watch!!!

Disclaimer
All the credits, rights, and content belongs to the author, publisher or company.
This is an honest review and learning article.
All the ideas, and phrases are duly credited to the author.
This post is not meant to hurt anybody’s feelings, or sentiments.
This article was made so as to facilitate the greatness of learnings which can be gained.

A Single season can’t have it all

| The Ikiguy

Warm Winters can’t have a colourful evening,
because mist gathers around in the inning,
A Single Season can’t have it all,
each part make it one for all.

Rustic Rains can’t have juicy mangoes,
because water and they are foes,
A Single Season can’t have it all,
each part make it one for all.

Shady Summers can’t have petrichor,
because the soils are busy working their chore,
A Single Season can’t have it all,
each part make it one for all.

Sombre Springs can’t have sun’s radiance,
because it’s too busy spreading out ambience.
A Single Season can’t have it all,
each part make it one for all.

Airless Autumn can’t have new buds,
because its sober with the dead duds,
A Single Season can’t have it all,
each part make it one for all.

A single human isn’t whole,
all of us makes ourselves beautiful,
A Single Season can’t have it all,
each part make it one for all.

Yours Only,
Dinesh Raja
A Curious Otaku.

AND SMILE WHOLE DAY

| The Ikiguy




Credits: Dr Asmita Singh.


(Yes, it’s a rangoli!)

Prologue:-
‘This Diwali what personal demon you would like to conquer’
My subtle jivataman replied,   ‘Thyself.’
Because
“Every man is his own worst enemy”
– Christina, Queen of Sweden

As Lord Ram returned from his exile,
Let us all wake up from thoughts that are senile.

As Devi said to the masses as before and as now,
Awaken O child, outgrow your old self and bow down,

The biggest Hindu festival which lasts five days,
Listen to what Valmiki, the old sage has to say,

Look inside, look within my child,
These five Tama gunas, ready to turn you wild,

Lobh Krodh Moh Kaam Ahankar,
If left unchecked can degrade you too far.

So when the Goddess Lakshmi visits your home, 
Make sure your lobh, greed is gone!

On the NarakChaturthi, when the demons lookout for your urn,
Ensure that all your krodh, anger is already burnt!

Then comes the main festive, the day, the grandest one,
Decrypt and decipher Moh, the materialistic illusion,
For what matters at the end is nothing but your loved ones,

Govardhan Pooja, the day when Lil Krishna displayed his humble might,
Strip down Ahankar, the evil ghoul, beat him down, in the good fight,

Doting sisters pray and bless brothers on Bhai dooj,
Dissolve your Kama, in the unwavering waters of sister love’s deluge

That’s all I want to say,
Keep these wicked ones at the bay,
And Smile the whole day.


– Dinesh Raja,
A lover of life.

What should I do? My patient just died in my hands.

| The Ikiguy

I am here sitting alone.

7 pm

The eerie silence in the side room makes your body cold but your heart alert.

There’s sounds everywhere. Here, there’s constant ventilator’s beeping of alive patient divided by intermittent alarms of dying ones.Here being sonorous means you are alive.

Welcome to CCU. Where the only thing you dread is loud, red sound.

710pm

As I am sitting here in the side room, I am feeling cold.

I am feeling teary.

I am feeling sad.

I am feeling numb.

My patient just died in my hands. Both metaphorically and medically.

And I can’t walk.

I can’t speak.

All I am feeling is this vast ocean of tortuous silence.

As I write this down, there’s another flood rushing from my eyes.

I am feeling lightheaded, as if just a small prick, and a like a balloon it will fly high away anywhere.

Why did he have to die? I don’t have the answer.

3 of us gave CPR the best we can. And yet we failed. This failure is much deeper than it looks.

As I look down on my palms, I feel there’s blood on it. His blood.

In this moment, I wish to be wrapped around in a warm blanket and be kept in my Amma’s womb. Again.

Take me home Amma. It’s too cold here. It’s too silent here. It’s to heavy here.

It is too heavy to be a healer.

It is too difficult to be a doctor.

It is too emotional to be a medico.

In this moment, I am just feeling my heart beating, mingled with buzzing of bellavista ventilators.

It is beating slowly. It’s afraid if it’s too fast it will make some noise. It just wants to fade away. Fade away into this syrup smelling air of CCU.

My soul wants to escape. Escape from this prison of a body and hug some warm soul tightly. So much tightly that an eternity passes away.

As I look around, my seniors, my super exhausted, super hardworking anesthesia residents are toiling in and out. Not wasting a second. They shed some tears. And move on.

May God bless them. Infinitely.

Move on to othe patients who can be saved. Who can be salvaged.

Salvage, it’s a pretty funny thing no?

One imperfect human determining whether another damaged imperfect can survive or not.

Can live or not.

As I peep out of the side room, my mind wants to hide inside itself. Doesn’t want to face the world. Doesn’t wish to see the cold body of his. Again.

What should I do now? My patient just died in my hands.

As tears flow and drench my white N95 mask, my heart wonders,

What should I do?

Yours Only,

Dinesh Raja.

Are Airports an area of anxiousness, or is it just me?

| The Ikiguy

After traveling to different places in various ways of transportation right from share auto to Rajdhani express, one can feel the vibes of vehicle.
As I look around in Trichurapalli (TRZ) airport waiting for boarding, I can’t help notice, the palpable anxiousness.


It’s as if everyone be seated here is stressed out.
(Of course what I say now and ahead may be wrong, nevertheless)
It’s as if all are tensed and riled up, compared to the free, peppy aura of any Indian railway station.
It’s as if one feels she’s being looked upon, watched or judged.


It’s as if you can’t be yourself in these fancy modes of transportation, you mandatorily need to done a mask.
A mask of sophistication.
A mask of
Contrast to feeling canned up in here , I genuinely miss the open air of train terminus.

Everyone acts so wierd while hailing here.
It’s as if they are not themselves.

Is it just me, or even you, my friend, feel some of it?

By
Anonymous.