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Over the past decade, I’ve navigated two cycles of crypto hype, dabbled in higher-risk stocks, and carefully avoided real estate due to its liquidity issues. As a young investor with a high tolerance for risk, my journey has been shaped by both ambition and inexperience. I’ve read the classics—Lynch, Buffet, Graham, Damodaran—and taken courses to sharpen my understanding of company valuations. Despite this, the reality of investing has taught me lessons beyond the pages of any book. One piece of advice I frequently hear is, " Markets can stay irrational longer than you can stay solvent. " There’s truth to this, but I see it differently. Markets may appear irrational in the short term, but prolonged irrationality suggests that I may not have accessed all the necessary information. This is why I emphasise investing in transparent companies, where I can fully understand their operations, financial health, and future prospects. Access to reliable information allows me to make inf

Life often unfolds like a game—an intricate series of moves, calculated risks, and outcomes that seem unpredictable. From my earliest years, I have engaged with rules, competition, and challenges, whether on the playground, on a board, or before a screen. As I have grown, the games have become more complex. Now the arenas are corporate boardrooms, office politics, and social negotiations. The stakes are higher, but the mechanics remain familiar to me. I reflect on a particular moment from my time as a Deloitte consultant. In a firm defined by its vast structures and competitive culture, I decided to "play my resignation card" as a threat in 2017. The move was not without consequence. It opened new doors, landing me my first overseas project—a venture that broadened my perspective. Yet, despite this gain, it did little to move me up the ranks. After a second failed attempt at promotion, I resigned for real. I remember the conversation with the consulting partner. I told him, &

In the heart of Daoism (道教) lies the profound concept of "wu wei" (无为), often translated as "non-action" or "doing nothing." This principle, however, is not about inactivity or laziness; rather, it speaks to a deeper understanding of action that aligns with the natural flow of the universe. To "do nothing" in the Daoist sense is to act in harmony with the Dao, the natural order, where actions are effortless because they follow the intrinsic patterns of life. The Daoist Principle of Wu Wei In Daoism, the universe operates through a balance of forces, where everything has its time and place. The concept of wu wei encourages individuals to step back, observe, and allow events to unfold naturally. This does not mean inaction but rather action that is timely, appropriate, and minimalistic, avoiding unnecessary force or resistance. As Lao Tzu wrote in the Tao Te Ching, "The sage does not act, yet nothing is left undone." Applying Wu Wei in Le

I'm 600 pages into Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes, and boy, what a journey it has been. In Chapter XVIII of Part 2, I came across the idea that Don Quixote became a knight-errant because he wanted others to believe in knight-errantries. It broke his heart as he grew into adulthood that he never encountered any knights like those from the tales of the past, so he took it upon himself to become one. This realization made me think deeply about the idea of Don Quixote himself. While much of his behavior is silly and can be harmful to those around him, he simply wanted the world to believe in magic, valiant knights who save the land, and the nobility of duty and love. What a burden he placed upon himself, and although most people just brushed him off as crazy, the few whose eyes he managed to make sparkle with wonder were certainly touched by his vision. He brought them out of the normalcy we've all grown accustomed to. And all it took was just one "Sancho Panza" to be

As I cycled to work on a crisp morning, the familiar route took an unexpected turn. Stopped at a traffic light behind a cluster of motorcycles, I settled in for what I assumed would be a brief wait. However, the dance of lights before us began to take on a peculiar rhythm. Green became orange, then red for the opposing lane. The perpendicular street had its moment of glory before surrendering to red once more. To my bewilderment, the cycle repeated, bypassing our lane entirely. I glanced around, noticing the darkening expressions of fellow commuters. Muffled curses drifted through partially open windows as frustration mounted. Time was on my side that day, so I observed with patience. Yet, as the pattern persisted, even my composure began to waver. It was then that my gaze fell upon an inconspicuous cut-out section of the road – a modest 3 by 1-meter rectangle that often escapes notice. The motorcycles, courteous in their positioning, had left this crucial space unoccupied. Enlightenme

In the tapestry of life, we often find ourselves woven far from the vibrant, curious beings we once were as children. This original state—our "Primordial self"—represents a wellspring of creativity, authenticity, and potential that many of us have lost touch with over time. As we grow, three major forces work in concert to erode our connection to our Primordial self. Well-meaning parents, in their effort to guide and protect, often inadvertently shape their children according to their own image or societal expectations, stifling natural inclinations and self-expression. The educational system, with its focus on standardization, drills conformity into young minds, teaching them to fit in rather than stand out. Finally, the demands of work culture and the relentless "rat race" force individuals to prioritize external measures of success over personal fulfillment, further disconnecting them from their authentic selves. This gradual disconnection from our Primordial sel

Today, I'd like to tell the tale of Leeroy Jenkins. As many gamers would know this legend from World of Warcraft, some of us may not reflect on it as much as I do. So stay awhile and listen, while I share this story and the lessons it taught me. Once upon a time, in the mystical land of Azeroth, a group of brave adventurers gathered at the foot of Blackrock Spire, a towering fortress of obsidian and lava. They were about to embark on a dangerous quest, but their leader, a wise old wizard, was still explaining the details of their plan. The air was thick with tension as each member was assigned a role, a responsibility they did not want but had to bear for the team. As the wizard droned on, a young and reckless warrior named Leeroy Jenkins grew restless. He was tired of the endless planning and the burden of responsibility. He longed for the freedom to just go out there, to shout his name to the world, and to do what he wanted. "Fuck this..." he muttered under his breath.

In the professional world, we often hear the term "office politics" spoken with a negative connotation. Many view it as an unnecessary game of manipulation and power struggles that should be avoided at all costs. However, only today, I've come to realize that having some level of political savvy is crucial for career success and team effectiveness. Let me be clear - I'm not advocating for the unethical, backstabbing behavior that can sometimes manifest in unhealthy office environments. Rather, I'm referring to the ability to influence, persuade, and gain buy-in from colleagues in a professional and emotionally intelligent manner. The truth is, not everyone operates purely on logic and rationality when it comes to business decisions. We are all human, with our own emotions, biases, and agendas at play. Attempting to push through initiatives or get work done while completely disregarding the interpersonal dynamics at hand is often an exercise in futility. I've s

And I said, "Speak to us of Happiness, O Wise One Within, for it has eluded me today." And I answered: Happiness is not a fleeting pleasure to be pursued, but rather an inner state born of purpose and action. It comes to those whose deeds outweigh their thoughts, whose accomplishments eclipse their intentions. Look upon the rich man who basks in material splendor. He says, "I can have whatever I desire with but a thought." Yet his treasures provide no succor, for his indolent mind remains barren of the fruit only labor can yield. Contrast him with one of humble means who says, "Though I have little, I will use it to its utmost." Through ceaseless toil, their efforts bear the sweetest nourishment gratitude and fulfillment can provide. And is it not those who believe their capabilities finite who wring from circumstance its ultimate potential? While those who consider their powers limitless remain shackled to inaction, their possibilities squandered on fanta

I often get frustrated when people promise to get back to me tomorrow, knowing they won't be able to. It's frustrating because it feels like they're not being honest. If they need more time, they should just say so. It's better to be upfront than to make promises they can't keep, which only hurts their credibility. Integrity means being true to your word, even in small things. Whether it's meeting a deadline or telling someone when you'll be available, sticking to what you say builds trust and reliability.