I never know how much I’m going to earn in a month. Some months feel like God personally handled my billing. Some months feel like I’m on God’s blocked list.

Being an advocate does that to you.

You never really “make money.” You just occasionally receive it.

And those who say, “but you’re your own boss,” have clearly never waited for a client who says, “Sir, amount transfer kar raha hoon abhi.”

I had always seen people getting salaries. Same date. Same SMS. Predictable. Peaceful. And here I am, part of the urban poor who are still trying to understand how cash flow is managed, mismanaged, and completely dependent on mood.

Feelings, it turns out, are the worst financial advisors. When you’re in a good mood, you treat yourself like Ambani.

When you’re anxious, you start calculating GST on samosas.

But if you ever feel lost, just remember what Iliaas Bhai said in Aankhen (2002), “किस्मत पे रोने का नहीं, कैलेंडर बदलते रहने का.”

That line has more financial wisdom than half the self-help books in the world.

Every time a case doesn’t convert or a client ghosts me after saying “will call you tomorrow,” I repeat it like a mantra.

It’s my monthly reset button.

When rent is due, and nothing is due to you, change the calendar.

When you open your wallet and it sighs back at you, change the calendar.

When you start believing the next month will be better, congratulations, you’re financially stable in spirit.

This profession has taught me that luck doesn’t arrive with notice, and payments don’t either.

So stop crying over fate. Tear the old page.

Start the next month.

Because sometimes, the only difference between despair and hope is a new date printed on paper.

And Iliaas Bhai was right.

If nothing else, calendars do change.

And that’s enough reason to keep going.

Later.