Gogetgruntled

Happy Father's Day! This is the 2nd of a 3-part series dedicated to my Dad, Vinay Satyal. It includes the text and video of my eulogy for this great man. Link in comments. Enjoy. 🥰🙏🏾💙

The news of O.J. Simpson’s passing took many of us back 30 years to that fateful day of the white Bronco chase. I didn’t even have to look it up: June 17, 1994.

As the Class of 1994 President at Fairfield High School in Ohio, I’ve set our 30th Reunion for June 29, 2024. Our committee consists of Kathy, Megan, Sarah, and… Rajiv. That tells you a lot about my hometown. Sarah suggested that perhaps I could write something about Simpson’s passing. We agreed I should keep it apolitical.

I’ve been a professional writer for nearly 20 years. And I couldn’t do it.

How does one write something neutral about something so charged?

Finish reading at https://gogetgruntled.substack.com/publish/posts/detail/143613513/share-center.

𝗔𝗗𝗠𝗜𝗧 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡 𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦
𝘎𝘙𝘜𝘕𝘛𝘓𝘌𝘋 𝘕𝘌𝘞𝘚𝘓𝘌𝘛𝘛𝘌𝘙: 𝘍𝘌𝘉𝘙𝘜𝘈𝘙𝘠 2024

(𝐴 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑒𝑠𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑐 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑆𝑢𝑏𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑐𝑘. 𝑆𝑒𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡*.)

Anyone who’s taken even one acting class has probably come across The Actor’s Vow, written by Elia Kazan, a man who won multiple Best Director Oscars:

𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓. 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑐 𝑜𝑟𝑝ℎ𝑎𝑛. 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑛𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑑.

𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑠 𝐼 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙; 𝑎𝑤𝑘𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑙𝑦, 𝑣𝑢𝑙𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑦, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑛𝑑. 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛, 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛, 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑣𝑢𝑙𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒. 𝐼 𝑚𝑎𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑟 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑜𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐼 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡, 𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓.

𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑑𝑚𝑖𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑗𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑎𝑑𝑚𝑖𝑡 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛, 𝑎𝑑𝑚𝑖𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑎𝑑𝑚𝑖𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠, 𝑎𝑑𝑚𝑖𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑚𝑒, 𝑎𝑑𝑚𝑖𝑡 𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑒, 𝑎𝑑𝑚𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒.

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑛ℎ𝑎𝑏𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑. 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑜𝑛 𝑖𝑡. 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒. 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑑.

Given all the things the famed director wants you to admit — rejection, pain, frustration, shame, outrage — only one gets a qualifier. Since I first read it when I arrived in LA nearly 20 years ago, that has always stood out to me.

Admit. Even. Pettiness.

What is pettiness?

According to the Oxford dictionary, it’s “a woman's light, loose undergarment hanging from the shoulders or the waist, worn under a skirt or dress.” Oh, wait. That’s a petticoat. Here it is.

𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑢𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑎𝑙 𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠, 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑙-𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒.

I can certainly understand why that’s hard to admit. I’d imagine nobody wants to be thought of as “small-minded.” In fact, many of us pride ourselves on going higher… doing a deep dive… zooming out to the grand scheme of things…. focusing on the big picture. Not getting stuck in the muck and mire of the mundane.

Years ago, a fellow comedian told me a story. To protect his innocence, let’s call him Gunther. Gunther had opened for comedians Russell Peters and Dane Cook. Peters is known for his generosity, often layering extra cash and gifts on top of what the club or theater earmarked for his MC and feature acts. (I still rock a pair of Air Jordans he bought me in Washington, D.C.) One day, Gunther mentioned to Cook what it was like to open for Peters. Apparently, Cook was stingy and didn’t go far out of his way to take care of Gunther or any of his other non-Gunther openers. Now, was there an ulterior motive? Maybe. But even as I pressed Gunther about his tone, he insisted it was an offhand remark. I can vouch for Gunther. I believe in Gunther.

So offended was Cook that, for months, he’d call around Los Angeles to find out when Gunther was booked and then show up right before his time slot and drop an hour to “bump” Gunther out of all of his spots. He did this a lot. For a long time. When I told this story to my friend, Mike K., without missing a beat, he replied, “Wow, that’s really small of him.”

I couldn’t stop laughing. Naturally, Mike K. meant the opposite of “that’s really big of him.” Before or since, I’ve never heard it used that way. But wasn’t that what it was? It was incredibly, inconceivably, incomprehensibly small-minded.

Oh, by the way, I used “Dane Cook” when I meant “Dane Cook.” I said I’d protect the innocent. Cook isn’t innocent. And you can’t spell mundane without dane.

𝐈 𝐏𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐧

I would hope there’s never been a time in my life that I’ve acted in this manner. But if I’m being completely honest — which is what (some of) you are paying me for…

𝐺𝑜 𝐺𝑒𝑡 𝐺𝑟𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟-𝑠𝑢𝑝𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑝𝑢𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑑 𝑠𝑢𝑏𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑏𝑒𝑟…*

— then I do have to fess up to what I’m about to tell you.

I’m going to tell you a story. You already know the moral. You know I’m going to end by telling you that I remembered to focus on the important things in life. To zoom out to the big picture to achieve my state of being gruntled. But it’s one thing to know and it’s another thing to do. And the reality is that many of us get caught up in things we shouldn’t, even though we know they’re bad for us. As such, hopefully my own downward spiral will resonate with you. And I’m curious:

- Can you think of an example for when you felt slighted?
- How did it affect you?
- How did you come to terms with it?
- What did you learn?

Feel free to comment or message.

In the autumn of 2022, the White House threw a Diwali event. A very large Diwali event that included the who’s who of the Desi (South Asian) community… Mindy Kaling. Lilly Singh. Jay Shetty. Kal Penn.

And that’s fine. The part that hurt was the fact that there were throngs of people who aren’t even on the D-list with me and/or didn’t do nearly as much as I’d done for this Administration.

Let’s unpack that sentence.

What did I do for this Administration? I can tell you exactly because I virtually campaigned to attend the 2023 version of that Diwali party.

The first couple of weeks after the 2022 get-together were rough for me. I wouldn’t say I was depressed, but I was very down over not receiving an invitation. Instead of curling up into a ball, though, I rolled up my sleeves. Let’s dream big:

- How can I myself get there next year?
- Could that be me amongst those celebrities?
- Is it possible for me to work so hard that I’M the most famous person in that room?

I researched who all attended (“research” consisting of doom-scrolling on Instagram to pick out shots of people whose faces I recognized) and contacted them. Every single person expressed shock that I wasn’t invited.

- “But you’ve done so much for these people!”
- “You’re, like, the most politically involved person I know.”
- “You would’ve been the hottest one there. I wanna see YOU in a petticoat.”

OK, maybe not that last one. However, I gotta say that was a good start, as opposed to, “Why would they want YOU to attend anyway?”

As the days wore on, I apologized to my wife:

“Harsha, I’m sorry. I know this is pathetic. I’m a grown-ass man in my FORTIES worried about being invited to some party. I just want you to know I know how stupid this is.”

For the millionth time, Harsha showed why she’s my wife:

“It’s not stupid. You’re justifiably upset. You HAVE done a lot for these people. And your profession is based on glamor. I get why it hurts you not to be there.”

She got some that night.

Naturally, “appreciate” is too formal a word for what I felt for her. I was touched beyond belief. All of what she said was true. This is Brand Building 101. Being there IS good for business.

I reminded her that’s one of the biggest reasons I made that last-minute decision to go to the Super Bowl a few months earlier. My friends hit me with:

“How can YOU not go? The Cincinnati Bengals are playing in Los Angeles. You are MR. CINCINNATI-TO-LA.”

Harsha didn’t buy that analogy. Maybe it was the fact that I went to the big game without telling her. Or the $4,500 price tag. Or that I caught an Uber to SoFi Stadium with Vivek Ramaswamy. Despite all of that, Harsha was still supportive of my mood. And I love that for us.

But it’s still pathetic. And you know what else? It felt petty.

After three kind people offered to submit my name for the 2023 celebrations, I narrowed it down to Gurwin Singh Ahuja. My fellow Punjabi worked overtime, using some well–placed connections to get me in.

And I got in. The only thing is the 2023 version was nowhere near what the 2022 version was.

𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐤

When I worked as a buyer at P&G, hundreds of salespeople tried to hawk various things to me. Mostly end-aisle display cases and corrugated paper. But also ideas. I wish I could remember who this was, but a particularly charismatic salesman told me he had an idea for a book. It would be called 𝐼 𝑊𝑎𝑠 𝐻𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝐿𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑊𝑒𝑒𝑘.

“You know how every single time you go to a resort and the pool is closed and the weather is rainy and the food is clearly repurposed based on excess supply, you always hear the same thing? ‘You should’ve been here last week.’ Well, my story is that I’m the guy who’s ahead of the curve. I was here last week.”

Come September, word on the street spread that the White House wasn’t going to reprise the Diwali event because of the turmoil in the Middle East. After all, Diwali fell on November 12th; the October 7th attack had just happened. Many accepted this explanation, but it really didn’t make any sense given that Diwali is a Hindu holiday. The real reason is that Desi support for Joe Biden and Kamala Harris had cratered since the bulk of their support went to Israel instead of the Palestinians. (Don’t worry: I won’t get into politics here. But if you want my political rant, check out my comment**.) It didn’t take long before poet Rupi Kaur lashed out at the event.

This precipitated a domino effect, with almost every single Desi celebrity pulling out. In the end, though it was a good party and with absolutely all due respect to Gurwin and the organizers, it took place not at the White House but at the Vice President’s Residence. Ms. Harris spoke for a mere seven minutes and took no photos with us. And I probably really was the most famous person in that room. Except it wasn’t even a room. We were outside on the lawn.

I couldn’t help but snicker at how the old adage…

𝑀𝑎𝑦 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝐺𝑒𝑡 𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑊𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝐹𝑜𝑟

…had come true. The gods were laughing. That’s what you get when you focus on the wrong things.

“𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑝𝑖𝑑 𝑔𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠. 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑛 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑝𝑖𝑑 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑧𝑒𝑠.” - 𝑇𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟 𝑆𝑤𝑖𝑓𝑡

(She wasn’t the first one to say that. She also didn’t win the Super Bowl. But she kinda did.)

Many of the conversations at the gathering revolved around two things: the lack of attendance and which other parties we were invited to. Ugh. Oh, my gosh. I’d never felt so icky in my life — and I did telemarketing for a summer. Though it might’ve been worth it for the one person who pointed out that Rupi Kaur isn’t even American; she’s Canadian.

"𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑔𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒!" - 𝑀𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝐺𝑖𝑟𝑙𝑠

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

Given the months I’ve had to gather some perspective on the entire experience, here’s what I learned. I told you I’d end with a “focus on what’s important” message. Indeed, some of you will read this and dismiss all of it as stupid.

“That’s right: ‘focus on what’s important’ and move on with your life. It’s a slippery slope. Who cares if you’re not invited or if they throw a worse or an even better party next year?”

But I’m not gonna say that. OK, I am gonna say that. However, I’m not gonna say only that. It’s not nuanced enough. “Slippery slope” isn’t helpful here. Of course, most of Hollywood is B.S. But not all of it. There’s still art, connection, self-discovery. Kazan’s quote is true. He didn’t say you shouldn’t have pettiness. He said you should admit it.

Attending that party — the 2022 version anyway — isn’t meaningless. So, how do we decide what’s petty and what’s not? To discern between the trivial and the nontrivial, the nonessential and the essential, the inconsequential and the consequential?

1.

Step one has been right there all along: Admit even pettiness. I’m a firm believer that we’re all feeling all of the emotions all of the time. Everything’s in there, man: you’re always a little glad, a little sad, a little mad. A little disgusted, a little jealous, a little grateful. It’s just that different emotions peak at different times. When the Cincinnati Bengals win, I’m momentarily ecstatic. All other emotions seem to fade away, but hey, they’re still there. You’re never really over anything. You carry it all till the end. You’re human. And part of being human is being petty. Even Buddhist monks experience negative emotions. When I asked my TM Guru if he got angry, he replied, “I feel anger. What I’ve learned is how to express it better.” In acting class, we used the phrase, “Allow it to be there.” Acknowledge it.

2.

Don’t start by asking, “WHY am I feeling this way?” Ask, “WHAT am I feeling?” I read that in Psychology Today. WHY is a value judgment. Can’t you already feel your stress level go up when you read WHY? WHAT is more exploratory. It allows you to scribble down or say aloud your thoughts without fear of worrying about the reasons.

3.

Ask why. Ha. Yo, at some point, ya gotta start digging. You can do this by developing your own set of principles in ranked order.

4.

Reword and reorder those principles as necessary, being as honest as possible. As they say, “It’s not a principle until it costs you something.” So, be honest about what’s bothering you.

Here are my principles — subject to change as I live life:

𝐴. 𝐹𝑎𝑖𝑡ℎ. 𝐵. 𝐹𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑦. 𝐶. 𝐹𝑖𝑡𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠. 𝐷. 𝐹𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠. 𝐸. 𝐹𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠.

Placing Family and then Friends and then Finances should be fairly straightforward. In most conflicts, whether consciously or not, people will follow the Bedouin saying:

“𝑀𝑒 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟. 𝑀𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑦 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑛. 𝑀𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡 𝑎 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟.”

I’ve learned when it comes to money, it’s better to lose a few dollars but keep a few friends. Sure, you can argue over who ate what at dinner, but it’s better to split the bill, realizing that it all evens out over time.

The tougher part is Faith and Fitness. By faith, I mean doing the right thing. By fitness, I mean your own mental, emotional, and physical health. I get migraine headaches, and though I work very hard not to overcommit myself, in my middle age I’ve learned sometimes I need to skip that cocktail hour and go to bed early.

5.

Whenever you feel that pang of pettiness, figure out which of your priorities it’s bumping up against. Faith? Family? The higher up it is on our list, the more important — the less petty — it is. If it’s none of them, then one of two things is true: either there’s something that is important to you that’s not on your list, so you should update it. Or… boom… it’s trivial.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐨𝐰

The reason the Diwali party non-invite vexed me so much was because of Finances. As a public figure, being in those pictures does affect my Brand Building. It adds something to my social currency. After all, it’s social media. Those comments, likes, and shares matter. They’re all part of building your brand equity. Years ago, when Eva Longoria asked me for a picture, my social currency at The Laugh Factory increased. Two nights ago, at another comedy show in Hollywood, when Jay Shetty pulled me in for a hug, my social currency spiked. That’s borrowed equity: someone sharing their equity with you.

(Kinda like how it dipped just now when I told you about it. But that’s not petty, it’s Shetty.)

DID it lead to more gigs? Tough to measure but not impossible. When I’m booked for shows, I listen really hard for why people booked me. And sometimes, they’ll say they saw me with so-and-so. That might have led to awareness of me or that might’ve actually closed the deal.

Here’s the problem, though. Yes, not being present at that party might’ve affected my Finances. But it definitely affected my Faith — the spirit of the season — and my Family, as I gave more importance to hanging with strangers than spending time with my wife and son. Therefore, my system above does work: those are my principles and it was indeed petty for me to worry about that stupid party.

Not to mention, all this stuff is the exact opposite of what comedians do. Comedians don’t care about getting invited to parties. (Out of the 200 attendees in 2022, I counted… one.) We are supposed to stand outside of the community. Removed from society’s rules. We’re askew, askance, to the side like the court jester or Kramer to the Soup N**i. The rules don’t apply to us. That’s why I went into this field. Not to hang my self-worth on an electronic invitation. I didn’t leave everything I know back in Ohio to get invited to parties, for Pete’s sake. I came here to work on my craft, to be respected as a professional standup comic. In fact, being in the picture actually makes you part of the establishment. Which comedian has ever wanted that? As a male comedian, I’m supposed to be a Man of the People. Not buying Prada shoes to go rub elbows with CEOs at a reception. WTF, dude? The word “cool” is tough to define (even harder than “petticoat”) but the one aspect that never changes is “individuality.” Doing what YOU want to do and not giving a damn what others think. Not even your community, which by the way, was never the approval I sought.

I may not be able to match The Actor’s Vow with The Comedian’s Vow, but you have my word that, from here on out, I endeavor to never worry about being invited to a party, a club, or an organization. In fact, though I totally support the work that The Salon is doing for the Desi community, I actually asked to be removed from it a few weeks ago. I applaud their work and wish them well. But after seeing the damage that exclusivity did to me, I can only imagine what it’s doing to people not blessed with the support network I have. Strike that. I don’t have to imagine. I had a number of people text me and pull me aside to lament the fact that they weren’t invited to Diwali 2022, either. As such, I need to do my part and not be a… party to this. My part is to not contribute to this mental health crisis. I will continue to build inclusive projects, inclusive organizations, and inclusive groups.

𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑜𝑛 𝑖𝑡. 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒. 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑑.

I will aim to care much less what others think.

But please comment, like, and share.

Gogetgruntled

𝗥𝗮𝗷𝗶𝘃 𝗦𝗮𝘁𝘆𝗮𝗹 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗮𝗻. 𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗮 𝗰𝗼𝘀𝗺𝗶𝗰 𝗼𝗿𝗽𝗵𝗮𝗻.

My January 2024 Gogetgruntled Newsletter. Based on the replies, I'm grateful people are finding it helpful. Hope you do, too.

𝘼 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙈𝙮 𝘾𝙪𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙇𝙞𝙛𝙚
𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘙𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘚𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘔𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢 𝘔𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘈𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘔𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬

Right after I posted my 2023 Professional Achievements (which you can read in a recent post), a LinkedIn contact named Bhaskar Patel messaged me:

𝐼𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑢𝑙. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢.
𝐷𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑙𝑒𝑐𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 2023? 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑓𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑖𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑛 2024?
𝐼𝑡 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑠 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑓𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 - 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑜𝑛 𝑎 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑙?
𝑊𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑡ℎ𝑦, 𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑢𝑛 2024.

𝗜𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻

“Yes” is the short answer to his first two questions. Here’s the long answer to all three:

In the 1993 Seinfeld episode, “The Visa,” the same one in which Babu Bhatt is in the process of deportation back to Pakistan, George mocks Kramer’s decision to go to a baseball fantasy camp:

“𝘒𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘱. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘱. 𝘗𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘱𝘭𝘶𝘯𝘬 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬. 𝘋𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘴𝘴-𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺, 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘹 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨.”

Earlier this month, I flew up to San Francisco in the AM and back to Los Angeles in the PM. Turned out I was a few hundred miles short of maintaining my Platinum status on Delta, so I departed, grabbed lunch with one of my best friends and returned. During our midday meal, I declared to Alok Bansal…

“I’ve decided to live life.”

Jumping on how ridiculous this statement sounded, he reacted much like George: ~“What have you been doing? You left P&G 17 years ago and have been traveling the world as a profesional comedian ever since.”

After we laughed our asses off, I unpacked my sentiment. What I meant was what I told my wife during our annual end-of-year State of the Relationship discussion:

“𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵, 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘩𝘢. 𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦. 𝘞𝘦 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘉𝘶𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘬, 𝘸𝘦’𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘥𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘯’𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦. 𝘐𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦? 𝘐𝘧 𝘯𝘰𝘵, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦? 𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯: 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵. 𝘞𝘦’𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘦, 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳.”

Many of you know the impetus for my big 2006 move to California was turning 30 years old. It hit me like a thunderbolt and I vowed not to let another age milestone knock the wind out of me again. So, I took 40 in stride, and now I’m doing the same with 50, which is a mere two years and two months away.

To extend the flying analogy, when I first launched FunnyIndian.com, I was in startup mode, so I worked 14 hours a day, including weekends. My then-roommate, Hasan Minhaj, said he didn’t know anyone who worked harder, besides himself. I continued that pace till I was married at the age of 39, so it was nearly a decade of grinding. After marriage, I still logged around 11 hours a day, finally taking some weekend days off, but sometimes not, given my wife’s own busy (real) job. With the birth of my son, Naveen, I scaled back to nine hours every weekday with perhaps two hours here and there on the weekend. Finally, post-pandy, I’m doing more like seven hours a day.

Why have I cut back? I already told you. To live life. It’s insane that Naveen will already turn three next year. I haven’t missed out on it and I don’t intend to. I’ve also put a lot of my other interests on-hold as I’d focused 100% on comedy. When will I take those lessons in singing, dancing, and scratching? I need to start thinking about incorporating some hobbies that might, sure, make me a better performer, but will allow me to do some things simply because I want to do them.

Bhaskar Patel’s questions drive to the very heart of living our values. The reason my achievements make me happy is because I’ve done a lot of self-reflection. I ensure my goals are what I really do want, not what society or the community or Hollywood wants me to want. As such, I’ve long been able to project how much happier I’ll be at the destination — realizing the journey is the largest part — when I arrive at it.

His third question was more about the personal than the professional. He didn’t use it and I’m glad because I don’t love the phrase “work/life balance,” because they’re not equals nor are they opposites. Life is our holistic self; work is a subset of that. Moreover, it seems to imply we’re not alive when we’re working. Sadly, that’s the case for a lot of disgruntled employees, which is exactly why I launched , the second newsletter of which will drop in January.

Make no mistake: you are your achievements. People will say you’re more than that, but you’re not. To be clear, I do mean your personal (“life”) as well as your professional (“work”). You are not your intentions. You are not your thoughts. You are the sum total of your actions. This is largely why I don’t read posts about regrets. I don’t really care about your regrets. Senior citizens will lament, “Oh, I should’ve traveled more.” How do you know that wouldn’t have made you more miserable? You don’t. You’re guessing at it. I want to do know about the things you did do that made you happy… the things you did do that made you unhappy… In Hollywood, they say, “Write what you know.” Exactly. Talk to me about what you know, and what you know is what you’ve lived. Nothing more.

Alright, then. Let’s do the Good and the Bad. It’ll probably start rather egotistical, but hey, I’ll take true ego over false humility. Here’s…

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗚𝗼𝗼𝗱: 𝗠𝘆 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 𝗣𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗔𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀

1.

As long as I can remember, year in and year out, my biggest “achievement,” as it were, is the network of family and friends that I’ve carefully built and nurtured over the years. “Network” is too cold a word, but I’m grateful for the wonderful people around me. They say you’re the average of the five people with whom you spend the most time. And this has guided how I allocate my schedule. I have a reputation for bringing people together, hosting, connecting others, and going out of my way to ensure those around me are having a good time. I am very close to my parents, my brothers, my wife, and my son. It takes a lot of effort to bridge the gap in distance and lifestyles. And I’ve done it. I’m constantly checking in to see how I could do better (see “State of the Relationship” above), and I’m proud to say I’ve left no stone unturned when it comes to playing my roles as a son, brother, husband, and father. I give 100% everyday. (As an engineer, I still don’t know what 110% is.) Does that mean I’m perfect? Of course not. But I know in my heart of hearts that I’m doing everything I can. And far more importantly, they’d all agree. Because I’ve asked.

2.

My wife and I have it together. That’s no small feat. We’re good at running our lives, our household, our social calendar. We’re on top of it. We do everything we can for our son and each other and it shows. We communicate well and resolve conflict quickly. Is it all smooth sailing? Nope. But we’re an incredible team. And I don’t mean to rob my accomplishments of their shine by being overly comparative, but I see how a lot of people are and I’m astonished at how bad they are at managing life. Like, what’s wrong with you? I’m just as neurotic and we’re just as busy as anyone, but it doesn’t seem anyone does it better than we do.

3.

It might sound odd to say a list of achievements is in and of itself an achievement, but it is. I’ve already chalked out where I want to be at the end of 2024 and 2025. I used to publish my next year’s goals, but I don’t anymore because I know for a fact that at least a couple competitors were stealing my ideas. For 2024, suffice it to say that my primary focus is on Gruntled. I’m also releasing two standup comedy specials, finalizing a TV pilot and a writing packet, and pitching a podcast series. As I tend to say, I’m poised to go on a run. I’ve gone on a run only twice. And really only once. And what I mean by “on a run” is that all cylinders are firing at once: spiritual, emotional, mental, and physical. As my friend, Sachin Waikar, and I say, to be happy, you need the 5 Fs: faith, family, friends, finances, and well, what’s another F-word that comes to mind?

When were these runs? Sad to say I peaked in high school, but my sophomore year was insane: I got As in every class, I was elected Class President, I got chosen as the sole HOBY representative out of 500 students, etc. But the huge miss for me, if you’ve seen my first solo show, is that I was awful at dating. So, I was entirely unfulfilled in that aspect. So, the only real run was 2003: I co-led Branded Entertainment across all brands in North America for P&G, dated the prettiest woman in Cincinnati, and maintained incredible relationships with family and friends. Sure, there are always challenges, but it felt like, for months: I. Couldn’t. Miss.

To prepare for a 2024 run, I spent the last two months clearing out a lot of stuff so that I can hyper-focus on the projects above. Yeah, six things is real hyper-focused there, huh? Fortunately, I have teams and am already far down the pike on each one. I’m ready for it. L. F. G. Oh, and I’m now married to the most beautiful woman in the world.

4.

As of today, I’ve run another perfect Year of the Hustle. It’s a list of 20+ things I do every single day. The list is longer than this but it incorporates…

- Spiritual: consciously breathe thrice, meditate for 20 minutes, say my mantra, do yoga, read my quotes, pray, and write in my gratitude journal.

- Emotional: My wife and I threw a 100-person birthday party for when Naveen turned two. I helped my Mom execute a great 75-year-old birthday party in Cincinnati. Both my wife and I came out unscathed from our State of the Relationship discussion.

- Mental: I ensure I read 10 pages of a book and write for 30 minutes. In 2023, I added to “read a book a month” the idea of “read 10 pages a day.” The problem is that I was delaying till about the 20th of every month and then cramming to finish. Technically, I was reading a book monthly, but this didn’t sit well as I was violating what felt like the spirit of the law. Now, I read everyday. And I write everyday, which means that, for at least half an hour a day, and usually much longer, I feel like a comedian. I’m doing something in my field. I’ve now gotten so good at my craft that I can write a lot of quality material quickly. Though I’m kinda realizing how I probably needed more jokes in this post.

- Physical: I eat five servings of fruits and veggies, drink 64 ounces of water, practice eight-hour intermittent fasting (eat only between 10:30 AM and 6:30 PM), and work out. Four weeks ago, I joined 24 Hour Fitness. I hadn’t been to the gym in 15 years, instead opting to do 100 situps, 50 push-ups, and 20 minutes of cardio at home. It’s easier at a fitness center. And perhaps most importantly, my vital signs are generally very good.

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗕𝗮𝗱

OK, now that you’ve probably gagged from all that bragging, let me get real with you. You know what? No. That was all real, too. Let me get vulnerable with you. Here’s what worries me.

1.

It’s tough to parse skill from luck. Things have not come easy for me, but there’s no doubt that in the macro sense, I’m very lucky. It scares most of us even to write that for fear of jinxing ourselves. As the old quote goes…

“Those who know don’t say. Those who say don’t know.”

Such is the ironic nature of the self. Like most people, I worry about something terrible happening. I certainly don’t fixate on it; I’d say it’s probably a healthy amount of anxiety. But as a God-fearing individual, I pray that my luck continues and am well-aware things can turn at any point for anybody.

2.

As we enter 2024, we face some serious headwinds. On the personal level, all four of our parents are aging. They’re all either in or approaching their 80s. It’s extremely difficult to watch and we’re cherishing every moment we have.

3.

On a country level, 2024 is probably going to be the worst year in this country’s history since the first Civil War. I’m betting worse than 1968 and even worse than 2020. In 2014 — before Donald Trump even hit the national radar as a candidate — I predicted we had seven to 10 years before the collapse of the nation. Why? Ferguson. When military-style tanks rolled down the streets of a fairly minor American city, it felt different. And that was under a left-of-center (though not liberal) Democrat. “Collapse” is a major word to use and elusive to define, though The Atlantic did its best*.

If Joe Biden wins, there is virtually no doubt in my mind that Donald Trump’s supporters will engage in a full-on sequel to the Civil War that’ll make January 6, 2021, look like a picnic. If Donald Trump wins, then my prediction will be slightly premature: it’ll take about another year for it to happen as we descend into an authoritarian state. Either way, my decade-old prediction is almost certainly going to become true; many believe we’re already in a low-grade civil war. This is what it feels like.

For my part — and this’ll be a shock to many as I haven’t stated it publicly — my current plan is to vote for neither one. I cannot in good conscious cast a ballot for the barely-coherent Biden and I live in a constant state of dismay that he and the Democrats did not develop at least a few good candidates to take on Trump: though we needed to see how their campaigns operated on a national level, I was all-in to see what Michigan Governor Gretchen Whitmer or California Governor Gavin Newsom or Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg would do. The ironic part is that any other Republican would handily defeat Biden and any other Democrat would do the same to Trump. I know we’re offered up two options, but I feel like Carla Jean at the end of this millennium’s greatest film: “The coin’s got no say.”** I’m not gonna call it.

4.

As long as I can remember, my life has been filled with conflict. It’s probably because I am truly a real-life Larry David. As do many comedians, I live askew to society and this askance angle leads to a lot of tension. The difference with me is that I’m a 10-0 Myers-Briggs extravert, so I like interacting with a lot of people. But it’s getting more difficult. Is that my own age? That’s likely part of it. But there’s something else going on, especially post-pandy. Many people have forgotten the basic decencies and courtesies that have long defined this American life. I struggle with people’s lack of text responses, last-minute cancellations, and general selfishness.

5.

They say the more introspection you do, the more lost you get. At a certain point, you have to stick a pin in it and be done for now. Revisit continually. But not continuously. The most frightening part is the things we miss even after trying to consider everything that might happen. So, at the most basic level, when people ask me how I’m doing, I think I’m doing well. But am I really falling apart or headed for a fall that I can’t see coming? It’s like the old analogy of a leaning tree: it’s been leaning for so long that maybe it’ll never fall. But with each passing day, the probability of exactly such an event only increases. Am I that tree?

6.

My vital signs are mostly good. But despite a doctor-approved diet and exercise plan, my bad cholesterol remains a bit high. It’s tough to fight genetics. In fact, this year, my 48th on this planet, is the first one during which I’ve started to feel the signs of aging. Most of my friends say I’m very lucky to have made it this far. But my back locks up from time to time. My migraines have increased in frequency (though they’ve decreased in intensity) from twice a year to once a month. My memory isn’t as good as it was even a couple of years ago. I’m still the world’s best driver, since all males are required to believe that, but I’ve lost a step. Loud noises annoy me much more than they used to; though I still love going out a couple times a week, a lot of the time around the house, I want some peace and quiet. That’s definitely different for me.

7.

The conceit of the self often breaks into the I vs. the me. The I (the superego) is the noble part of us whereas the me (the id) is the part that gives into cravings. My Dad has long prided himself on “not being a slave to anything,” whether that’s a drink or a cup of tea. And that’s largely true. But I’m afraid of becoming a creature of habits: alcohol, caffeine, p**n, anything addictive. You yearn with the soul and crave with the body. I’m fine to yearn. But this past year, I tried giving up various things for a month at a time. For 2024, I truly want to see how many days I can go without…

- Alcohol: I’m doing Dry January for the tenth or so time. I’m gonna see how long I can go. But even for the big social events I have planned (Vegas in February for a friend’s 50th… my birthday party in March… my 30-Year High School Reunion), I came up with an idea so I don’t overindulge: drink the night of the event and the next night. That way, I can hold back a little and not go hogwild for a few hours. It’s also why I start Dry January on Jan 2.

- Wrath: This has long been my burden. Solve this and I honestly have a shot at nirvana. Fail and rebirth it is. Earlier this year, I’d almost thrown in the towel. But I hit rock-bottom with it in October. Without providing details, let’s say that I lost it. However, the upside is that might’ve been the turning point. I’ve devised a solution: in addition to keeping an anger journal, which I’ve been doing for years, I’m counting down from 100. Every time I’m about to display undue anger and I beat the craving, I take the number down one. When I display undue anger, it goes up one. Today, I’m at 84. What will I do for myself? I don’t know but it’s probably gonna be expensive. And more importantly, I’m finally hopeful.

- Speaking of money, since my early 20s, I’ve had a number I’ve wanted to hit for an annual income for myself and a household income for my family. The pandemic did a number on my earnings. And I know that I’ll never truly be happy till I hit that number. Stop with the “isn’t that putting happiness on hold till you reach your destination?” Yes, but I also told you I know how much happier I’ll be once I’m there. And most importantly, like Jonah Hill says to Brad Pitt in Moneyball: “You’re not doing it for the money…. you’re doing it for what the money says.” And the reality is that, even though I have a solid reputation, respect from my peers, blah blah blah, until I’m paid what I’m worth, how could I truly be fulfilled? And even more importantly, I need to provide for my son. And that’s all the incentive I need.

- Smack Talk: Some of this is jealousy but some of it is because it feels good as someone who’s good at coming up with insults. It’s not good, though. I need to continue to embrace an abundance mentality, not a scarcity mentality. There’s enough to go around and I shouldn’t speak ill of others, unless by doing so, I’m doing some good.

- Politics: That leads me back to what I wrote above regarding the 2024 election. I’m not saying all that to be negative. I’m being realistic. As I joked with and cracked up the actor Danny Pudi when he appeared on my talk show (episode coming soon), ~“I was born an optimist but I’ve learned to become a pessimist.” For years, as part of the Year of the Hustle, I’ve read five news articles a day from various sources. No more. I’m hooked on doom-scrolling and I need to cut it out.

- Gluttony: I’m certainly not a glutton, but can I truly stick to intermittent fasting all year?

- Finances: Every week, I write down our assets and liabilities (balance sheet). But what I’ve avoided doing is actually tracking our expenses (income statement, cash flow statement). I haven’t balanced my checkbook since my 20s. And that needs to change.

𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻

I’ll end with two very real (and vulnerable) thoughts:

1.

The thorn in my side, despite all of my accomplishments and beyond all the desire for money, is that I don’t matter to the national conversation. The fact that I made a video*** seen around the world 100 million times means so much to me. It’s something most artists will never achieve: that someone you made actually resonated deeply in people’s souls.

But I have a lot to say, and by now, I would’ve thought I would’ve been regularly appearing on shows and podcasts simply because people want to hear Rajiv’s Take. Until they do, I cannot reasonably call myself successful. I am, after all, a social commentator. I want my opinion to count. I want my voice to be heard. I want to matter.

2023 was a year of aggression for me. I vowed to not take much s**t from people and I fought them on all points all the time. How’d that work out? Actually pretty well. I got most of what I wanted by demanding it. But respect is better commanded than demanded. As such, 2024 will be the year of acceptance. I’ve had it good, and if I want to achieve the lofty objectives and goals I’ve laid out for myself, I need to do it in good faith. If my topic is Gruntled… if I’m gonna discuss Happiness… then I need to do it happily.

2.

Hindus believe in four cycles for this world. Satyug is the best one, when things are great. We’re in kulyug, the worst one. (No kidding, huh?) But here’s the thing: it’s easy to be good when things are good for everyone. It’s hard to be good when things aren’t so good for everyone. I want to be that beacon of hope for people… to emit light, not heat.

So, I’ll end by thanking Bhaskar Patel for his questions. And with one of the quotes I read daily — and not because I’m an alcoholic… …

𝘎𝘰𝘥, 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦,
𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯,
𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦.

𝙍𝙖𝙟𝙞𝙫 𝙎𝙖𝙩𝙮𝙖𝙡 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣. 𝘼 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝙤𝙣𝙚, 𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙮. 𝙃𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙇𝙤𝙨 𝘼𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙨, 𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙖.