The boy, the black box, and the bus
Letter 148
Subject: The boy, the black box, and the bus
Week 2 | Apr 2026
In 7th grade, my parents bought something called a ZX Spectrum.
It was a black box. The size of a fat keyboard. You plugged it into our Sony colour TV with a thick cable, and when it turned on, it became a mini computer.
You could play video games on it , each one came on a separate cartridge. But one day I found a section called GWBASIC.
I typed one line of code. The screen asked me my name. I typed it in. The screen said it back to me.
That was it. I was done for.
I wanted to learn to code. There was no course. No YouTube. No structured path. There were barely any books. I spent hours in bookshops , talking sweetly to the managers, asking permission to sit and read , making sense of whatever I could find.
And then, through asking around , neighbours, my parents' friends, anyone who might know anyone , I found a man who worked at a small IT company. He was willing to spend one hour with me every Sunday and show me the basics.
He lived 45 minutes away by bus.
I had never taken a bus alone. I had never been to that part of town. I didn't know the route. I didn't know what I was doing.
I went anyway.
In 10th grade, I won an international computer problem-solving competition.
Not a single paid, structured class. Not part of any curriculum.
Just a desire that wouldn't let me sit still.
I think about this a lot when I work with founders.
The ones who are stuck are almost never stuck because of resources. They're stuck because they don't know what they want. Or they do know , but they're waiting until it makes sense to want it.
Here's the thing: builders don't wait for permission from their own intelligence.
Intelligence, if you're not careful, becomes the thing that stops you. It runs the numbers. It looks at the odds. It tells you: this isn't feasible. You don't have the right contacts. You're not ready yet. You don't know enough.
Forrest Gump knows none of this. He has no understanding of what's practical, no exposure to what's possible. He just decides he wants something , and goes. Without doubt. Without a plan. Without asking whether the idea is good enough to deserve the wanting.
We laugh at this. We call it naivety.
I think it might be the most sophisticated thing a person can do.
My mother is a world-renowned ceramic artist.
A few years ago, she started playing with paper. She didn't enrol in a course. She didn't research it. She bought paper. She tore it. She burned it. She folded it. She soaked it. She kept playing.
For years.
Last year, her work was exhibited at an international biennale in China.
No plan. No proof it would work. Just a desire , and the patience to stay with it long enough for something to emerge.
"Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love. It will not lead you astray."
, Rumi
This is what builders do. They fearlessly listen to their own desire. And then they stay with it. They feed the flame. They enjoy the journey. They don't need the destination to be clear before they begin.
Because clarity doesn't come before the doing. It comes because of it.
Action. Then emotion. Then more desire. Then more action. And slowly, slowly, something real emerges , but only if you keep watching, listening, doing, reflecting.
Most people are waiting for clarity before they begin.
Builders begin, and let the clarity catch up.
The bus route becomes familiar. The bookshop manager starts saving things for you. The man who gives you one hour on Sundays eventually gives you two.
You don't need to know where you're going.
You just need to know what you want.
And then go get on the bus.
, Adi
What's your ZX Spectrum? The thing that grabbed you so completely , before you knew enough to doubt it , that you would have taken any bus to get there. Write back. I read every reply.
PS , This week's recipe: Slow Dal
Because some things only get better with time.
What you need:
1 cup toor dal · 2 tomatoes, roughly chopped · 1 onion, thinly sliced · 4 cloves garlic, crushed · 1 tsp cumin seeds · ½ tsp turmeric · Red chilli to taste · Salt, ghee, fresh coriander
How:
Wash the dal. Pressure cook with turmeric and a pinch of salt until completely soft , almost falling apart. Don't rush this.
In a heavy pan, heat ghee until it shimmers. Drop in the cumin seeds and let them crackle. Add garlic and onions. Cook low and slow , 12 to 15 minutes , until deeply golden. Not just translucent. Golden.
Add the tomatoes. Let them break down completely. Another 10 minutes.
Pour in the dal. Stir. Taste. Adjust. Simmer together for 15 more minutes, adding water until you have the consistency you want.
Finish with a fat spoon of ghee and fresh coriander.
Eat with rice or roti. Make extra , it's always better the next day.