@trushafinace

October 10 — the day something inside me died. For three years, I lived between work and charts, trading every night, saving every rupee after rent and food. Never more than 3x leverage. No greed, only hope — hope to buy a small house, to keep my promise to my wife, to start our life, our baby. That morning, the market looked strong; by afternoon, it collapsed. Red candles, frozen screens, portfolios bleeding to zero. They said it was a black swan, but I know it was greed — a few powerful hands stealing the dreams of thousands. When I got home, I couldn’t speak. My wife just held my hand, her silence heavier than any loss. I saw the house, the crib, the future we imagined — all fade away like dust. People say, “Start again.” But how do you start when your soul feels empty? When the dream that kept you alive is gone? That night, I didn’t just lose money — I lost the part of me that believed in tomorrow

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