Launching a company is not very unlike having a baby. Wait, wait, avert your deathly sleep-deprived gaze, and slowly set down that pacifier you’re hurling my way – just hear me out.
It begins as a twinkle in your eye one fine evening, and you start to crave an adventure, one like never before. That little sapling of an idea takes hold inside your gut, begins to grow within you, feeding off you, often making you sick to your stomach.
It has a life of its own, a force that exhilarates you and blows your universe wide open. You begin to dream the impossible, and begin to yearn relentlessly . For a waist line, that is. I kid you not, your gut and your success are directly proportional. Using that formula, my ingenious mathematical algorithm predicts a success comparable to Trump after a brown-skinned crime.
My waking moments not spent working like a damn dog on a deadline are consumed with eating everything that dare crosses my path.
Buttered kulcha at midnight? Buttered anything at any hour, of course!
Leftover biryani 3am snack? Ji janaab.
Frothy white lassi when the going gets tough? Obvi, paaji.
The nights are long, your snacking reaches grand new heights (those conniving motichoor ladoos). Then come the aches and pains and what feels like a violent bumblebee summersaulting deep inside you.
Now here we are, nine months to the date, this idea has shot out into the world, finally to see the light of day – likely yelling and screaming, but hopefully with less placental outpouring. And there’s no epidural for this one.
To others, all babies look the same – like pudgy wrinkled old elves. But you, my third baby, are beautifully unique. You shifted my world view – which may very well be because I actually did shift across the world, and my window now gives view to two lazy neighborhood dogs napping on a dusty Delhi day.
You are not a snuggly being full of my genes; rather, my jeans are now too snuggly on my very being. Close enough.
I love you, third baby, I really do. I am consumed by you, I dream of you, and am anxious for your future. I pray you don’t suck me dry like a greedy leach and abandon me in my old age with a parched bank account and a few moth eaten rags to my name. You’ve drained the youth from my face, the shine from my hair, the crispness from my clothes.
But you’ve put a passionate spring in my step, a driving purpose to my day, and a fire in my belly that can raze all the naysayers. And I’m proud to be your Momtrepreneur.
Sana is the Co-Founder and Creative Director of www.HappyShappy.com
