Chapter 14

2024/25

Relationship and health were at an all-time low, while career, finance, home, travel, and entertainment were soaring at an all-time high.

The next domain I needed to bring into order was my health.

During my trip to Dubai, I bought an Apple Watch to track my progress. I divided health into two subcategories: body and mind. Both required an incredible, consistent amount of work.

For the body, I started hitting the gym regularly and took up yoga seriously. I kicked off the #13minutechallenge, pushing myself to run 3 km in under 13 minutes. Because of my chaotic lifestyle, I was routinely skipping breakfast and lunch, jumping straight to dinner and usually ordering food delivery every single night. My sleep was completely wrecked. I had been struggling with insomnia for a while—sleeping very late, waking up in the middle of the night and staying awake until dawn, falling back asleep until the alarm blared, snoozing it, and waking up even later. It was a mess. Remembering how I used to depend on alcohol for deep sleep back in my Berlin days, I tried it again, keeping it mild—which only proved detrimental. When the mind lacks peace, everything else collapses. I had neglected this pillar more than any other over the years, and I was absolute wreckage.

For the mind, I turned to meditation. I retreated to my secret-yet-not-so-secret spot in Greenwich Park, sitting in silence to sort through my thoughts and feelings. I quickly realized that proximity to nature made me genuinely happier. I also made a conscious effort to cultivate positivity, recognizing that my internal negativity was poisoning my immediate environment. I attended therapy sessions, too, though they mostly just brought to the surface what I already knew.

It was a massive perk of my job that it finally gave me easy access to a doctor, a dentist, a therapist, a personal trainer, yoga classes, and a home right next to a gorgeous park.

Life Rules Page 79

"Small things done over a long period yield big results." — Realized after failing my Meta and Google interviews back in 2019.

"Compounding is the eighth wonder of the world." — Albert Einstein.

"Time is infinite potential energy." — A personal realization.

"The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second best time is now." — An old Chinese proverb.

"Do your duty, but do not concern yourself with the results." — An Indian proverb.

I engineered a foolproof operating system to live by which, if followed religiously, would propel me to greater heights. I asked myself:

How do I get to the ideal relationship status I want?

How do I execute the little daily habits needed over the long term to achieve true health?

How do I compound my knowledge and career over time?

How do I structure my budget so my money grows exponentially?

How do I acquire a home now that will appreciate in value?

How do I automate repetitive tasks to free up time for high-value work?

How do I travel systematically so I cover the globe in due time?

How do I build a sustainable public persona?

How do I lay the foundations for a business that will eventually succeed?

Laying the foundational stones and establishing repeatable processes were all that mattered. Every tiny effort accumulates. Obstacles and failures become stepping stones—much like Kintsugi, the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold. Every mended fracture adds to the beauty of the final piece.

That’s why I built a system where my only job was to follow the rulebook, continuously debug and refine it, and let the machinery do the rest. The immediate results didn't matter; unwavering discipline to the principles was everything.

Most people lack operational systems for success. Even those who have systems lack the discipline and patience to stick to them over time. I knew that if I stayed the course, I would eventually come out on top—and even if I didn't, I would have given it my absolute best shot.

Page 80

My spot of solitude in the park became my sanctuary for deep introspection. That year, my loneliness began to bite hard. Even though my two major relationships over the past decade were significant, both had been clouded by doubt—and doubt is the antithesis of connection. People called London a city with a million lonely souls, and I felt like its prime victim. Having moved across the world to dedicate my life to cold, lifeless buildings, I tried hard to ignore the reality that most of my college peers were now raising families.

At work, leadership announced impending layoffs targeting 30% of the workforce. I landed on the initial chopping block because internal rules mandated that if a single person at my seniority level was selected, the entire bracket had to go into the pool for final cuts. If I were laid off as an immigrant, I’d face a brutal 60-day window to secure a new sponsored job, or else sell my home and leave the country. Although I was reasonably confident I wouldn't make the final cut, those weeks of uncertainty were punishing. I sought refuge in the park almost daily. The clean air, lush green grass, and ancient trees were my truest friends during those dark days.

It was an unmistakable warning against complacency. On top of the stress of maintaining my mortgage, I was now sweating my visa sponsorship. I was three years into my five-year UK residency path and refused to reset the clock a third time (following my previous resets in the UK and Germany). I hated being at the mercy of institutional dependencies. Acting proactively, I retained a top-tier immigration lawyer to prepare a robust Global Talent Visa application—my second attempt, following a rejection in 2020. Legal and application fees were exorbitant, but peace of mind was priceless. I figured if anyone qualified as a "Global Talent," I certainly did.

Following the review consultations, I survived the layoffs. Many of my colleagues weren't so fortunate. I paused the visa application, keeping it in reserve as an emergency parachute.

Residential Ledger Page 81

I maintain meticulous records of my life. Here is every place I've called home since 2012:

Trivandrum 🇮🇳 (Until 2011) — Where my parents settled after moving across India.

Padamugal, Kochi 🇮🇳 (2012) — Shared with 3 flatmates from Kerala, Andhra Pradesh, and Bihar.

Vazhakkala, Kochi 🇮🇳 (2013) — Shared with 3 flatmates from Kerala, Tamil Nadu, and Andhra Pradesh.

Thiruvanmiyur, Chennai 🇮🇳 (2014) — Shared with 4 college peers.

Velacheri, Chennai 🇮🇳 (2014) — Shared with 4 others, including my best friend.

Pallikaranai, Chennai 🇮🇳 (2015) — Shared with 2 others, including my best friend.

Bangalore 🇮🇳 (2012–2016) — Periodic multi-month stays across HSR Layout, Koramangala, Bellandur, Electronic City, Indiranagar, and Whitefield.

Upton Park, London 🇬🇧 (2016) — Right opposite West Ham’s Boleyn Ground.

Boundary Road, London 🇬🇧 (2017) — Shared with 7–8 people.

Islington, London 🇬🇧 (2017) — Shared a room with a friend, plus two French flatmates in the other room.

Clapton, London 🇬🇧 (2018) — Shared with 2 others (no longer in touch).

Shadwell, London 🇬🇧 (2018) — Shared with 4 others; a fun chapter.

Dalston, London 🇬🇧 (2018) — Moved in with my partner.

East Ham, London 🇬🇧 (2019) — Lived here until the relationship broke down.

Winterthurstraße, Berlin 🇩🇪 (2019) — Shared with a flatmate (not in touch).

Friedrichshain, Berlin 🇩🇪 (2020) — Lived alone for the first time.

Neukölln, Berlin 🇩🇪 (2020–2021) — Lived alone.

Dubai, UAE 🇦🇪 (2021 onwards) — Various extended hotel stays.

Aldgate, London 🇬🇧 (2021) — A one-month stint.

Mile End, London 🇬🇧 (2021–2023) — Shared house with 3–6 rotating flatmates (Casa).

Earl's Court/Hyde Park, London 🇬🇧 (2023) — Temporary hotel living while waiting for flat keys.

Greenwich, London 🇬🇧 (2023–Present) — Moved into my own home.

Page 82

Successful software companies live and breathe data. From acquisition to retention, data drives every single decision made to move the needle.

I applied that exact philosophy to my personal life. What if I built a dashboard tracking all my life metrics to gain an objective view of my growth? What if it could algorithmically signal my next best move?

That’s precisely what I did. I automated data pipelines across roughly 80 different sources and built the "Siri's Life Tracker" web app—long before the current AI wave.

Suddenly, I could look at a dashboard and answer complex questions: How is my heart health trending? What does my respiratory capacity look like after years of smoking? Am I consistently sleeping 450 minutes a night? What is my exact net worth? When can I hit financial independence? Which investments need hedging? What is my current chess Elo rating? With the later integration of AI, the app's analytical depth scaled exponentially.

I kept the app private because it demands absolute discipline and consistency—two virtues in short supply among humans. Apps cannot enforce discipline; my life rules were designed to forge that character within me.

I also instituted a monthly life review, scoring myself out of 10 across my seven core categories. Starting at a modest 6/10, I set a hard target to hit an 8 by the end of the year.

The system was live, the processes were optimized, but the lifestyle carried inherent risks. The human mind rebels against rigid optimization. Such relentless tracking can breed stress, anxiety, and obsessive tendencies. I experienced those dark corners firsthand; it could easily become destructive.

I needed a mentor to keep me grounded. Who better than my brother, acting as my consigliere? Watching my obsessive data-driven pursuit, he offered a timely, grounding piece of advice: "Perfect is the enemy of good." It instantly became a core life rule.

Page 83

Two Core Rules You are your habits.

Excuses are always there for those looking to find them.

Once a man reaches adulthood, rewiring his behavior is immensely difficult because deep-seated habits form his identity. Changing atomic habits takes years. I came to this realization while coaching my students. I wanted them to follow a disciplined schedule, but many struggled, showing up to sessions armed with excuses.

My own mind did the exact same thing whenever I tried to step outside my comfort zone. The only antidote was conscious defiance—doing precisely the opposite of what my brain's lazy impulses demanded, essentially tricking myself into growth.

For the next six months, I locked myself into a rigorous daily, weekly, and yearly routine across all seven categories, executing tasks mechanically without agonizing over the immediate outcomes. There were days when I worried that combining intense stress and depression with such military discipline might break me. But I reasoned that if that's what it took, so be it—what good are six optimized pillars if you are failing at the most critical one?

Over time, I realized that relationships cannot be forced or chased. You simply place yourself in environments where genuine connection can happen and leave the rest to destiny. It became crystal clear that my mandate was to master the other six categories and let the right person appear organically in unexpected circumstances.

Ine packed up and left London that year, navigating her own transitional phase. Losing a core member of my hard-won social circle felt like a step backward, but the mission continued.

That same year, I officially registered @zynedigital to house my growing client work in the UK and UAE, combining it with @webdeepdive. I wanted to scale the operation, create opportunities, and help people break into tech.

Page 84

Nov 2024, Barcelona 🇪🇸

I used my travels not for idle leisure, but as deep strategic retreats to evaluate my life, maximize my potential, and extract ruthless efficiency from my time across all seven categories.

It dawned on me: I only needed to control what was within my power—the first six metrics—and leave romance to destiny. After all, destiny had delivered every significant person into my life previously. I was confident that the right partner would cross my path in due time.

Yet, turning 33 brought a low-hum anxiety about the shrinking window to build a family, balanced fiercely against my absolute refusal to fold under the pressure of an arranged marriage.

Life is far too short for half-hearted measures and regrets. You execute to the absolute limit of your abilities, harvest the wins, digest the lessons, and press forward. There is no room for hesitation. As my manager once advised me in a pivotal meeting: "Make peace with your decisions."

Around that time, I connected with Ale on Instagram—a PhD researcher from Poland based in Enschede near the German border. We struck up a rapport, formed a friendship, and began dating long-distance for two or three months.

Coincidentally, this was when Meta reached out for a third time.

Page 85

Performance.now() @ Amsterdam

Attending the Amsterdam conference was a highlight of the year. The itinerary was simple: spend a few days at the conference, then take a day trip to Enschede to finally meet Ale in person. The company covered the conference expenses.

We had been dating online for a while, but I had zero interest in keeping a relationship indefinitely virtual. I was at a stage of life where things needed to progress—either transition into reality or conclude quickly. Lingering in digital limbo is a colossal waste of time.

En route to Enschede, a severe train collision near Utrecht crippled the rail network, forcing my train to turn back. The conductor kindly issued a free return pass to Amsterdam. That logistical glitch gave Ale pause; she abruptly decided she wasn't ready to meet or commit so soon after her previous breakup, requesting we remain friends instead. Furious at the wasted effort, I realized later that I had pushed the timeline too aggressively.

But I drew a hard line. I viewed stringing someone along as a selfish misuse of time and opted to cut ties immediately. What we had was not a friendship, and I had no interest in settling for a downgraded dynamic. We parted ways permanently.

Around that period, an acute urgency weighed on me—the haunting realization that time was slipping away without a life partner, and that career dominance was extracting a heavy personal toll. I was living by a "get busy fixing or get busy dying" philosophy.

Staying at a hotel with an exceptional bar in Amsterdam, I indulged in quality bourbon (highly recommended)—it had become a bit of a personal signature. I struck up conversations with the bartender and an elderly American woman traveling the world. In a bizarre twist, the bartender revealed she had once "worked" for a dating app as a "fake profile," dealing yet another blow to my dwindling trust in online matchmaking.

At the end of the trip, I tried to get her number and struck out.

Page 86

A retrospective ledger: Staring down a bleak future, failing to win back Min, grinding through 18 grueling university exams to graduate, starting fresh in Kochi, meeting Nat, growing closer, following her to Chennai, working for Apple, picking up cricket under professional strain, getting relocated to Bangalore, missing out on the H1B lottery, moving to London to work for Lloyds, winning Nat's commitment, mentoring her, solo backpacking across Europe, conceptualizing Algorithmic Living, returning home, returning to London, cycling through endless house shares, watching my chronic ankle injuries worsen, reuniting with Nat in London, building professional reputations together, hitting the ceiling of visa constraints, breaking up, retreating to India, watching Nat marry and move to Dubai, relocating to Berlin for Delivery Hero, settling into a cozy studio, launching online teaching, getting hit by the pandemic, meeting Lin, discovering her concealed marriage and staying anyway, enduring an awkward trip to Sweden, reconciling and growing through her influence, grinding for Meta and failing, realizing the necessity of systemic habit overhaul, organizing my life and codifying rules, fleeing Berlin's heavy winter for Bumble in London, restarting a five-year residency clock, re-entering house shares, building foundational life blocks, splitting my public and private personas, ruthlessly engineering my life, rehabilitating my physical body, buying a flat, taking flight lessons for a PPL, launching investment engines, welcoming Lin to London, failing a second Meta loop, surviving corporate stress, completing a two-year property hunt, buying a home, surviving workplace layoffs, managing peak anxiety, expanding mentorship, launching @zynedigital and @webdeepdive with UK and UAE clients, getting caught by Lin over Liz, breaking up, doubling down on self-optimization, watching my net worth skyrocket, wrestling with profound loneliness, seeking solace in nature, getting "friendzoned" by Ale and walking away, facing a third Meta outreach, and finally accepting the brutal truth: health and relationships always pay the tax for professional ambition.

Page 87

Now, a reality I kept hidden.

I arrived in the UK on a Skilled Worker visa in 2021, locked into a five-year path to settled status in 2026. Having already surrendered residency twice—once each in the UK and Germany—I was not about to reset the clock a third time. Selling my newly purchased home was out of the question. I had accepted these risks with eyes wide open.

But the country was in deep structural turmoil. Productivity was at rock bottom, and the post-pandemic dependent population had surged. The state relied heavily on tax contributions from high-earning legal immigrants like us—whom safety nets excluded for the first decade—to prop up public funds. Families were shelling out visa and legal fees that easily eclipsed house deposits. Global conflicts drained public coffers, inflation soared, and post-Brexit immigration shifts brought new demographic friction. AI-induced layoffs swept across sectors, making job mobility nearly impossible for sponsored workers. Small boats crossing the English Channel fueled endless political theater, while right-wing demagogues and sensationalist media whipped up anti-immigrant sentiment, driving protests onto the streets of London.

Legal immigrants like me were sitting ducks: uniquely vulnerable to sudden layoffs, legally barred from switching employers freely, and tethered to a single sponsor under threat of deportation.

As if that stress wasn't enough, I re-engaged my immigration lawyer to revive my Global Talent Visa application. Given my track record as a startup founder, educator, and senior engineer, I figured I’d sail through. My strategy was simple: keep it in my back pocket as an absolute get-out-of-jail-free card.

That December, while vacationing in Dubai, I was simultaneously deep in preparation for my third Meta interview loop in six years. I knew precisely what was coming.