Money is an important part of everyone’s life. I realized this in my early 20s. Until that point, I was completely oblivious to the concept of money. Sure, I used to think about it sometimes—especially during my college days because I lived alone, and my parents would send me money—but I never truly understood how money worked.
Back then, I would save money by skipping meals or cutting costs wherever I could, but I never did anything meaningful with those savings. Growing up, I never asked the important questions: How does money work? How do you earn it? Our education system never really planted those seeds of curiosity. It failed to teach us the basics of financial literacy.
My dad was the sole breadwinner. He provided everything for us without making us feel the burden. While that’s a beautiful way to parent—shielding your children from stress—it also has its downsides. It can hinder a child’s ability to grow mentally, to question, to build resilience.
As a child, I remember my dad giving me coins and asking me to drop them into a box where a toy dog would fetch them. That was my job. It sounds silly now, but those small moments stuck with me. My grandmother, too, used to give us pocket money every time we met her. Looking back, it was like receiving a small salary. But I would always hand it over to my mom, and that money would just disappear.
If only I had known back then. If I had invested that money—even in something as simple as India’s Nifty 50 or the S\&P 500 in the US—it could have grown exponentially. But I never questioned how I could earn money; I only thought about how I could get money. That mindset was my first big mistake.
Things began to change in my final year of undergrad. A friend introduced me to the concept of investing. Until then, I didn’t even know the stock market existed. And that’s another flaw of our education system—kids aren’t taught these basics. Nowadays, thanks to Instagram and YouTube, kids seem to be more financially aware. But back then, we barely had phones or internet access.
When we finally started earning through internships, we didn’t have many expenses—everything was shut down due to COVID. So I began investing the little money I had. That portfolio has since grown nearly 200 times its initial value. It all started with a simple conversation where my friend told me, “You can’t get rich living off a monthly salary.” He planted the seed that changed how I thought about money forever.
I bought "Rich Dad Poor Dad," and it changed my perspective even more. It wasn’t just about getting rich; it was about how different people think about money. That book—and many others I read later, like "The Psychology of Money"—taught me that true wealth comes from owning something: a business, property, investments. Without ownership, you can never be truly rich.
But money isn’t everything. The "Psychology of Money" made me realize that while we can all chase unlimited wealth, it often comes with sacrifices—relationships, health, peace of mind. It’s crucial to set a financial goal, a number that represents freedom for you. Once you reach that number, you can live life on your terms without constantly worrying about work or money.
During the crypto and NFT boom, I dipped my toes in. I treated it as throwaway money. Some bets paid off; some didn’t. That’s the nature of investing—there’s always risk. There’s no such thing as a 100% safe investment.
Which brings me to another truth: there’s nothing wrong with a 9-to-5 job. In fact, it can be a blessing. The internet romanticizes entrepreneurship and demonizes regular jobs, but the reality is different. A stable job gives you peace of mind and a steady paycheck. I learned this the hard way.
I had an amazing job at Micro Focus. I worked reasonable hours, had time for hobbies, and could afford a comfortable life. But I wanted more. I wanted to build something of my own. So I quit.
My sister and I started a startup. It took nearly eight months just to launch the MVP. We’re still not earning anything significant. I’ve made zero income for the past year, living off my savings. And no one talks about how brutal that journey can be—the mental toll, the constant comparison with peers, the fear of failure.
I now realize I quit my job too early. If I had stayed another year, let the startup grow, and built financial stability, things might have been different. But I jumped too soon. And when you’re down to your last bit of money, you can’t afford to take risks. You panic.
So I’m preparing to return to a 9-to-5 job. I’ve realized that stability isn’t the enemy—it’s a gift. You can’t truly understand this until you’ve walked the other path.
To anyone reading this: don’t rush to quit your job. Invest, build something on the side, and only make the leap when you’re ready. Define your own life. Don’t let others dictate what success means for you.
That’s all I wanted to say for now. I’ll share updates as my journey continues. Until then, take care.