I am writing my obituary.

I am writing my obituary. No, it is not morbid—far from it.

It is a technique I learned during design grad school at the IIT Institute of Design, in a course called “New Product Definition.” When designing for a new product, you begin by writing its obituary. This exercise helps define what the product should ultimately become. By envisioning its legacy, you can work backward to the MVP, planning each step toward that final goal.

I have always seen this technique as a tool that expands ambition—not only for a product, solution, or business but also for oneself. This approach helps uncover the legacy you want to leave behind, the impact you hope to have, and how you want to be remembered.

In Bangladesh, our landscape has shifted. Political changes have forced all of us pursuing progress to reevaluate our paths. For me, this means reshaping my plans, my vision, and even my core beliefs. Accepting this has been so hard… Adapting when things go wrong is one thing; having to pivot overnight, without warning, is something few of us were prepared for. Writing my own obituary has become a way to recalibrate, to find my fundamental purpose in a world that has suddenly changed course.

I once took comfort in the belief that we could flow under this current of corruption, resisting it at our own capacity. We practiced what we preached, hoping that small acts of resilience would someday become something larger, worth sharing and building upon. For years, my purpose was clear: I found solace in my existence, believing that I am here to extend my privileges, and every work I pursued was to do exactly and only that.

But now, I find myself questioning that definition. I hear the glass ceiling has been shattered—perhaps it has, or perhaps they are only cracks. Regardless, my old sense of purpose no longer satisfies me. What once felt like a fulfilling impact now feels elitist. I’m searching for a new ideology, one that asks: What can I do to create genuine impact? What must I evolve into to serve this rare opportunity? What will my contribution be to our world?

The challenge now is to actualize the immense opportunity given to us. This moment comes to only a lucky few. Will we seize it, or will we remain bystanders, trapped by the past and swept into someone else’s plans?

Founders, write your obituary. Use it to define your purpose and envision the legacy you wish to leave behind. Just as you brought your companies into existence out of sheer will, use your strength to build with purpose—a Bangladesh that thrives on diversity, innovation, and resilience.

Stop. Recalibrate. Shift gears—no, shift lanes entirely if needed. We’ve done it before; we can do it again.

The truth is, I can no longer see clearly. I do not have the means to read the patterns and predict the future that is unfolding around us. The landscape has changed, and if we continue full speed in the direction we’ve always gone, we may hit a slab of rock or tumble off a cliff.

বুকের ভিতর ভীষন ঝড় / বুক পেতেছি গুলি কর। This slogan was my calling—it seeped in deep within my core… I wished I were Abu Sayed, there and ready to lay down my life to create a ripple. But there can only be one Abu Sayed, and I have to find another way. This life has to mean something. The guilt of surviving July 2024 has become my greatest burden—and my motivation.

Now, I hear that young people use this line to confess love, with the sweetest change: বুকের ভিতর ভীষন ঝড় / বুক পেতেছি, জড়িয়ে ধর! This version, too, holds an answer. It should become the slogan of a new revolution. We should embrace each other, hold each other up. This raging storm within each of us will not be quelled by death or division. Unity, with all our diversity intact, is the way forward.

This is our slogan of resilience, of unity.