Not Gainfully Employed

A career gap isn't a setback. It's an opportunity for growth. Over the past year, I've had the privilege of stepping outside my comfort zone, embracing uncertainty, developing resilience, and acquiring valuable transferable skills. What initially seemed like a period of professional inactivity turned out to be an extraordinary journey of self-discovery, adaptability, and continuous learning. Here are some of the key lessons I've learned and how they've prepared me to bring greater value to my next professional endeavour.

You know what? I can't keep up with this LinkedIn style bullshit.

This has been a really trying couple of months. It felt like a fast-tracked course on growing up, except I don't remember signing up for it. Being unemployed, or rather, "not gainfully employed," like Ramu from 10th grade Economics (he works on his family's farm, for those who don't know), was quite an experience.

This year, however, somewhat restored my faith in humanity. I saw people standing up for what was right, trying to make a difference in whatever little ways they could. I saw actual things I had learned during my UPSC preparation, like upholding the Constitution, being practised not by sworn leaders or bureaucrats, but by ordinary people. I suppose there's something rather beautiful about that.

I learned about greed, and just how much I despise it. I saw what money does to a person, how it can make even the smartest people afraid of mortality, and how that fear can drive them to do terrible things. I saw supposed communists being the worst kind of fascists. I understood what it means to live by what you believe in, however hard that may be, and how easy it is to abandon those beliefs when they become inconvenient.

Despite our differences, I came to understand that there will almost always be some common ground we can reach with people. At the end of the day, we all basically want the same things: a little dignity, some security, people to love, and perhaps enough time to enjoy whatever little happiness life has to offer. Yet the kakistocracy and the "self-made, what's wrong with enjoying the fruits of your labour" brigade, along with everyone aspiring to join their ranks, try their very best to convince us otherwise.

And then there was the unfairness of it all.

Somebody with no particular zeal for life could be blessed with time, while those who yearned to live it to the fullest were handed the hardest verdicts. I saw what it means to fight, to hold on, and to live with grace even when the odds are stacked against you. Life can be terribly unfair, and the people who have every reason to complain about it are sometimes the ones who complain the least.

My faith in humanity was restored further, strangely enough, by random people who went out of their way to help me find a job, even when they had absolutely nothing to gain from it. People who barely knew me, who owed me nothing, and who had their own troubles to worry about. Well here's a crazy idea : Maybe life really is sunshine and rainbows if we all are a bit nice to each other?

I learned about alienation, about losing hope, love, and even the will to live. I learned what it feels like to be disappointed by people, by life, and mostly by yourself. I also learned that perhaps, with enough time and grace, you can eventually get up and get going. Sadly, you cannot always afford either.

Strangely enough, I finally feel like I'm making up for lost time with this little stint staying at home. All my life, I've felt I went away too fast, that I grew up too quickly. There was always somewhere to go, something to do, and someone I was supposed to become. I suppose I was so busy trying to get somewhere that I never really stopped to think about everything I was leaving behind. And now, at a time when I have no particular place to be, I get to be here. With my family, for all the little things I would otherwise have missed.

My final animation project ended with a rather simple question: "Will a slower breath really hurt?"

I suppose it's taken me all this time, and a rather involuntary break from everything I thought I was supposed to be doing, to actually consider the question. And I suppose that's another thing I learned. That time itself is a privilege. That being able to stop, to fail, to think about what went wrong, and to figure out what comes next is a luxury.

I don't feel any wiser now. I certainly don't feel particularly accomplished. I still have no clear idea where I'm going, and there are days when I wonder if I've learned anything at all—judging by the sheer amount of stupidity in my actions. But I think I understand people a little better now. Perhaps even myself. And maybe I'm a little more grateful for everything I have, and everything I don't.

Unfortunately, I also learned that none of this means diddly squat to the tech overlords and their minions from HR.

So Jira, AWS, OOP, proactive business analysis, a certification in generative AI from Dumbass University, or whatever the hell it is that they're looking for will have to go on my résumé.