Category: English

  • The Toxicity of “At Least” Culture

    The culture of being grateful is slowly being replaced, or rather overshadowed, by a subculture of “at least,” which often fails to meet even the bare minimum of human decency, especially in the highly toxic societies we inhabit today.

    To put this into perspective, when we’re struggling, we naturally want to find positivity in life. So, we start looking for good things, in situations, in people, in the small moments that give us hope.

    Gratitude, in this sense, becomes an internal journey. It helps us rise above mere survival and feel worthy of the blessings in our lives, many of which others might only dream of.

    But when we shift to relationships, especially toxic ones, whether at the community or family level, this genuine gratitude is often weaponized. It gets sugarcoated, distorted, and replaced with the word “at least.”

    This phrase is then used to invalidate the feelings of the struggling person, turning their pain and longing for love into something trivial.

    Instead of addressing the root of the issue, “at least” becomes a way to silence, minimize, and dismiss.

    For instance, when someone in a toxic relationship expresses dissatisfaction or emotional neglect, they might be met with phrases like, “At least they don’t hit you,” or “At least they provide for you.” These statements diminish the person’s needs, invalidate their love languages, and imply that they should be content with crumbs when they deserve the whole loaf.

    This is not to deny that there are exceptions, some individuals might truly be narcissistic or overly self-centered, always fixated on their own needs.

    However, in most cases, the “at least” culture reflects a systemic failure to acknowledge the emotional and physical well-being of those who depend on us.

    The problem with “at least” is that it often doesn’t even meet the bare minimum. It excuses underperformance, justifies neglect, and absolves responsibility.

    By using “at least” as a defense, the burden of improvement is shifted from the person who should be accountable to the one already suffering. It sends the message that striving to do better isn’t necessary, as long as one does the absolute least to avoid outright condemnation.

    This toxic mindset isn’t limited to interpersonal relationships, it’s deeply ingrained in societal structures. When those in positions of power underperform or fail to fulfill their duties, toxic societies quickly defend them with arguments like, “At least they’re doing something.”

    This rhetoric not only undermines accountability but also perpetuates a culture of mediocrity, where improvement becomes an afterthought rather than a priority.

    The damage of “at least” lies in its ability to stifle growth and diminish the potential for positive change. It creates an environment where people settle for less, stop striving to be their best, and feel justified in placing their burdens on others.

    It normalizes complacency and discourages meaningful efforts to be better, whether as partners, leaders, or even human beings.

    To move beyond the toxicity of “at least,” we must reimagine what gratitude means. True gratitude is about appreciating the good in our lives while recognizing areas for growth and improvement. It’s about valuing others’ efforts while holding them accountable for the roles they play in our lives.

    It’s about finding balance, celebrating what’s good without tolerating what’s harmful.

    Instead of settling for the lowest benchmarks, we must strive for a culture where everyone feels valued and respected. We must cultivate environments that encourage people to be their best selves, not through shame or pressure, but through mutual respect and empathy.

    When we stop using “at least” as a justification for mediocrity, we open the door to healthier relationships, better leadership, and stronger communities.

    The key is to challenge complacency and embrace a mindset of continuous growth. By expecting more from ourselves and others, we can foster a society where genuine effort and accountability are the norms, not exceptions.

    Conclusion
    The culture of “at least” must be replaced by a culture of improvement, empathy, and mutual respect.

    Gratitude and accountability can coexist, one doesn’t have to come at the expense of the other. When we embrace this balance, we move closer to building a world where every individual can thrive, not by lowering our expectations, but by continually raising them for the greater good of all.

  • Not So Free Will

    I have always felt agitated at the thought of being bound by limits. Being tied down circumstantially made me realize something: I am now doing things that I wouldn’t have done if I were not forced to. I do these things, as the rebel I am, because I have not been given the freedom to choose. This made me wonder—do we, or at least those of us who view humans as independent rather than co-dependent beings, simply crave free will?

    As thinkers, our ultimate aim seems to be freedom. Not freedom that comes at the cost of others’ rights, but a freedom where we are unbothered and unburdened by unnecessary interference. Yet, I began to question: why has living within limits become the hallmark of a civil society? Why does society insist that humans need to be trained or tamed? We are told that without rules, society would collapse and human life would spiral into chaos. But is that really true?

    Certain experiments, like the infamous Stanford Prison Experiment, suggest that given free will, people can quickly devolve into violent or immoral behavior. These studies show how easily we adapt to roles without much thought. However, I wonder about the validity of these conclusions. The Stanford experiment may have been serious in intent, but how representative was its sample? A small group of people in a controlled environment cannot reflect the complexity of all humanity. Perhaps the setup itself was flawed.

    Are humans, then, like animals that require training? Even if that’s the case, can humans truly become “inhuman” under normal conditions? Just as an herbivore doesn’t suddenly become a carnivore overnight, can we say humans would abandon their morals and humanity if left unchecked?If humans aren’t inherently inhuman, why do we need so many rules about how to live? Isn’t it true that people often perform their best when given freedom and no pressure? Or are we saying that humans are fundamentally lazy, incapable of functioning without deadlines?

    This brings me to another question: is this why we believe in God? Do we need a higher authority because we are born slaves, or are we trained to feel like slaves? What are we, really? Are we naturally free beings, or are we conditioned to seek control and structure?

    These questions challenge the fundamental assumptions about human nature, free will, and societal norms. Are rules a necessity for order, or have we simply accepted them as a crutch because we fear chaos? Does the existence of structure mean we lack the ability to self-govern? And ultimately, does our belief in freedom stem from an innate desire to live authentically, or is it a rebellion against the chains we’ve been conditioned to accept?

  • The Paradox of Spontaneity

    Now and then, I meet people who mirror a part of me. Like me, they are adrift, navigating life without a clear destination. We belong to a group that doesn’t dream in blueprints or grand visions. We’re not marathon runners with meticulously mapped-out strategies for success. Instead, we’re 100-meter sprinters, racing toward the nearest goal—a carrot dangling just out of reach—while being tethered to reins we can’t even see.

    Older generations often seem eager to guide the youth—or perhaps they’re searching for guidance themselves through these conversations. They ask us, “What’s your goal? Do you know where your life is headed? Do you have a roadmap?” It’s ironic, though. Many of them neglect their own health, skip their medications and healthy habits, and act as though they can regain control of life whenever they choose. They ridicule younger generations for living a reckless and unplanned life, all while stumbling through life in much the same way.

    Do humans ever truly grow wiser with age, or do we simply shift our blind spots?

    Taking a step back, I wonder: Is it really so bad not to have everything figured out? If it is, then why do we celebrate spontaneity in certain contexts? We buy books, attend workshops, and read blogs promising to reignite our spark—in life, in our careers, and even in our relationships. Yet outside of those contexts, spontaneity is so often dismissed.

    In a career, spontaneity is labeled as randomness or recklessness—unless it leads to success. Then it’s rebranded as “risk-taking.” In love, spontaneity might be celebrated as playfulness or condemned as instability and deceit. In daily life, it’s often seen as a sign of madness. And in fashion? If you’re a trendsetter, your choices are revolutionary. If you’re not, it’s just bad taste.

    We seem obsessed with contradicting ourselves. The books we read aren’t meant to translate directly into real life. We don’t actually want to be our ideal selves; we just want to dream about what we could become. Why? Is it fear of failure? Or is it the vulnerability of exposing who we really are?

    Maybe the real question is this: Are we ready to show up as we are—to live unapologetically, embracing our passions and desires without fear of judgment? Or will we remain tethered to expectations, dreaming of freedom while clinging to the reins?

    The answer, I suppose, lies in whether we’re willing to stand metaphorically naked before the world, shedding the layers of what we’re supposed to be and finally becoming who we are.

  • Are You Ignoring the Silent Killer of Your Peace and Health?

    It’s high time we started talking about our difficult emotions—those that scare us, unsettle us, and weigh us down. Anxiety, for instance, can be crippling. Yet instead of burying it deep within, it’s crucial to acknowledge and express it, allowing it to escape from our system. When we suppress negative emotions like anger, stress, or fear for too long, our nervous system begins to operate on autopilot. The body enters a state of defense, pulling us further away from our true selves. In such conditions, we often feel like nothing more than a spinning top—lost, directionless, and vulnerable.

    Whether it’s anxiety, fear, or anger, every emotion needs to be labelled and validated. Suppressing these feelings, sometimes so deeply that they sink into our subconscious, can have dire consequences. Research now strongly indicates that chronically suppressing stressful emotions is a significant factor in the development of long-term illnesses. Studies on chronic illnesses consistently point to stress as one of the major contributors to lifestyle diseases.

    Yet, as a society, we cling to the belief that denying our emotions—even to ourselves—will somehow make them disappear. This toxic mindset, deeply ingrained in our collective behavior, encourages people to ignore their struggles. Occasionally, brushing aside difficult emotions might work if you have a healthy nervous system and robust coping mechanisms. But repeatedly doing so puts immense pressure on the nervous system. It’s not a case of “fake it till you make it”—because one day, your body might no longer cope, and it will collapse in ways you least expect.

    When emotions are suppressed, the body responds through mechanisms known as freeze, fawn, fight, or flight. These responses often build hidden traumas—space trauma, financial trauma, scarcity trauma, and more—that lie dormant until triggered. Over time, this constant state of defense becomes habitual for the nervous system. Triggers that remain unacknowledged or unlabeled wreak havoc when they resurface, disrupting our lives unexpectedly. Gradually, these triggers begin to define us, embedding themselves into our personalities. However, the truth is that triggers are controllable—with consistent practice, support, and professional help.

    The need of the hour is to recognize and embrace the concept of a healthy nervous system. It’s equally important to know when to seek help and to stop shaming those who do. Mental stress should be treated with the same urgency and seriousness as physical stress, for which we often seek immediate medical attention. Recognizing the problem is, in fact, half the solution.

    Here’s hoping society realizes that the brain and body—or mind and body—are not separate entities. Both need care, attention, and balance to lead a truly healthy and happy life.

  • Mental aur Physical Health: Dono Ke Liye Emotional Awareness Zaroori Hai”

    हमें अपनी मुश्किल फीलिंग्स के बारे में बात करने की ज़रूरत है, जैसे कि हमें  kis baat ka डर लगता है, kis baat ki chinta hai। Anxiety बहुत ज़्यादा crippling हो सकती है, लेकिन इसे दबाने के बजाय बात करना ज़रूरी है ताकि इसे system से बाहर निकाला जा सके। अगर हम अपनी negative emotions जैसे गुस्सा, stress और डर को बहुत लंबे समय तक छुपाकर रखें, तो हमारा nervous system auto-pilot पर चलने लगता है। Body defence mode में चली जाती है और हम खुद से दूर होने लगते हैं। सबसे stressful situations में हम एक घूमती हुई लट्टू की तरह हो जाते हैं, jo apne behavior ko control nahi kar sakta aur apne se pareshan ticking bomb ban jata hai।

    चाहे हम anxiety feel कर रहे हों, डर या गुस्सा, इन emotions को label करना ज़रूरी है। इन्हें acknowledge करना ज़रूरी है। इन्हें दबाना नहीं चाहिए, क्योंकि अगर हम इन्हें बहुत गहरा दबा दें, तो ये subconscious का हिस्सा बन जाते हैं। Chronic stressful emotions को दबाने से long-term बीमारियां हो सकती हैं, जैसे कि latest research कहती है। Long-term research यह बताती है कि chronic illnesses का एक major reason stress है। 

    हम सोचते हैं कि जो चीज़ हम खुद से भी deny कर रहे हैं, वो खत्म हो जाएगी। यह एक toxic societal thinking है। हां, कभी-कभी एक healthy nervous system और coping mechanisms के साथ, difficult emotions को side करना चल सकता है। लेकिन अगर हम बार-बार ऐसा करें, तो nervous system पर pressure बनने लगता है। यह literally fake it till you make it वाला approach नहीं है, क्योंकि एक दिन आपका body इसे बर्दाश्त नहीं करेगा, और अपने तरीके से collapse कर जाएगा। 

    जब हम difficult emotions को दबाते हैं, तो body के response में freeze, fawn, fight और flight जैसे reactions होते हैं। यह और भी ज़्यादा traumas बनाते हैं, जैसे space trauma, financial trauma, scarcity trauma,emotional trauma आदि। Nervous system के लिए यह एक आदत बन जाता है हमेशा defensive होने का। चाहे हम इन triggers को label न करें, यह फिर भी हमारे nervous system को कभी भी impact कर सकते हैं। धीरे-धीरे, यह triggers हमें define करने लगते हैं, और हमारी personality का हिस्सा बन जाते हैं। लेकिन असल में, हमारे triggers controllable हैं – practice और मदद के साथ। अब ज़रूरत यह है कि हम समझें और accept करें कि healthy nervous system क्या होता है। कब मदद लेनी चाहिए, और जो मदद लेते हैं उन्हें shame नहीं करना चाहिए। Mental stress को भी physical stress की तरह treat करना चाहिए, जिसके लिए हम तुरंत medical attention लेते हैं। Problem को पहचानना उसका 50% solution है। यह उम्मीद है कि society समझे कि brain और body या mind और body दो अलग चीज़ें नहीं हैं। दोनों को healthy रहना ज़रूरी है एक healthy और happy ज़िंदगी जीने के लिए।

  • The Search Of A Soulmate

    Lately, I’ve started to believe that our search for a soulmate isn’t a quest for answers—it’s a quest for shared questions.

    For centuries, we’ve idealized the notion of a soulmate as “the answer to all my questions.” Love songs, poetry, and stories tell us that we were born incomplete, carrying questions only our beloved could answer. But what if we’ve misunderstood this narrative? What if the answers have always been there—offered by our friends, our family, or even life itself? What if the essence of a soulmate lies not in answers, but in the questions they ask?

    Friends, after all, satisfy our curiosity. They give us answers, clarity, and a sense of grounding. That’s why friendships endure; they fill gaps in our understanding. A soulmate, however, is different. They are not the ones who settle your uncertainties—they are the ones who mirror them. They ask the same questions that keep you awake at night.

    This idea might feel unsettling, especially in a world where love is marketed as a solution. We’re taught to seek compatibility through shared goals, values, and intellectual pursuits. We’re told to look for someone who “completes us” or “makes us better.” But what if the true purpose of a soulmate is to stand beside us, equally lost, equally searching?

    It’s not the answers that bind us, but the shared journey of questioning. To feel truly connected to another is to see your own confusion reflected in their eyes and to find comfort in that mutual uncertainty. The idea of “completion” becomes irrelevant because the bond isn’t about fixing; it’s about exploring.

    This is why relationships often falter when one partner “finds the answer.” The balance shifts. Suddenly, the partnership feels unequal—one leads while the other lags behind. In such moments, the relationship risks becoming an uncomfortable hierarchy, rather than the safe haven it once was.

    A soulmate isn’t a wise teacher sent to enlighten you. They’re not the long-awaited guru with a roadmap to your life. They are, instead, your fellow wanderer—the same goofy, clueless last-bencher who doesn’t have all the answers either. Together, you stumble through life, laughing, tripping, and asking questions that may never have answers.

    The real question, then, isn’t “Who is my soulmate?” but rather, “What are my questions?” Have you sat with your doubts long enough to understand them? Have you figured out what you’re truly searching for? Because only when you understand your own questions can you recognize the ones who share them.

    A soulmate isn’t a destination. They’re not an endpoint to your search. They are a companion who joins you on the journey, walking beside you through the uncharted terrain of life’s mysteries. And maybe, just maybe, the beauty lies in the questions themselves, not the answers we once thought we needed.

  • The fallacy of attempts

    How often have we longed for that spark of motivation? That voice from the sky, a tiny heartbeat in our ears urging us to take the first step?

    For many of us, this yearning is all too familiar, a moment suspended between desire and inaction, waiting for something, or someone, to nudge us forward.

    As a chronic procrastinator, sometimes for serious reasons, sometimes not, I’ve always been fascinated by what drives people to take action.

    What makes some of us leap forward while others remain paralyzed, endlessly circling the starting line?

    The Movers and Their Mysteries

    Some people seem to glide through life as if they’re on a giant slide, propelled by some invisible force.

    Call it discipline, ambition, routine, or perhaps an external push imposed by others. Whatever it is, this internal fire, their ability to take that crucial first step, is enviable.

    But what fuels them?

    Is it the anxiety of falling behind?

    The thrill of belonging to something greater?

    Validation from society, family, or themselves?

    Perhaps it’s faith in a higher power, an idol, or a purpose beyond comprehension.

    Their motivations might spring from the darkest corners of revenge and jealousy or from the purest emotions of love and self-fulfillment.

    For some, the drive comes from parental expectations; for others, it’s the inability to sit still.

    To one, life means constant striving; to another, it’s about leaving a legacy in this fleeting existence.

    For some,it is just about being human which means ‘to do’. 

    The Strugglers Who Falter

    Then there are those who, no matter how inspired, can’t seem to sustain the momentum. They stumble—either before or after the first attempt—always falling short of motivation.

    They may have a long list of reasons, but the bottom line remains: when things get tough, they crumble.

    For some, life deals an unfair hand, unrelenting challenges that make success, as defined by society, seem unattainable. Their priorities might lie in caring for family, while the world measures success in wealth.

    For them, moving slowly is essential to their version of fulfillment, even as the world glorifies the endless chase.

    These two kinds of people, those who sprint forward and those who hold back, are, perhaps, just two sides of the same coin.

    Their grit may be the same, but their non-negotiables differ, shaped by personal circumstances, values, and priorities.

    Beyond the Surface: Motivation and Culture

    It’s not just about individual choice; cultures, societies, and communities deeply influence what we value and strive for.

    Historically, collective goals have been shaped by the needs of the time—whether survival, economic growth, or social order. These goals trickle down, shaping individual aspirations and defining what we deem “successful.”

    But as societies evolve, so too must these common goals. It’s time to move beyond shaming those who choose a different path. In communities where survival is no longer the pressing issue, individuals should be free to set their own definitions of success.

    For some, this might mean wealth or career achievements; for others, it might mean the simple joy of being alive, breathing, and existing without the need for constant striving.

    The Freedom to Be

    Perhaps the ultimate goal is not about doing or achieving, but about being.

    To embrace our personal journeys without fear of judgment, to honor our choices even when they don’t align with societal norms.

    After all, life’s true value isn’t measured by external benchmarks but by how authentically we live it.

    So, whether you’re driven by ambition, propelled by discipline, or simply savoring the bliss of being, know this:

    your path is yours alone.

    And that is enough.

  • Love Beyond Labels

    What is love, really? Is it admiration, desire, or something deeper we cannot define? Often, we confuse admiration with love. We fall for movie stars, teachers, idols, a popular senior at school or work or anyone we can look up to, mistaking the spark of admiration for the depth of love. It seems so natural to blend the two, but is it truly love, or just the awe of seeing something extraordinary in another person?

    Love takes countless forms, yet our minds often categorize it into two rigid boxes: sexual and non-sexual, platonic or amorous. When we love our friends for their warmth and support, it’s labeled as friendship. Ignoring homosexuality for a second, two girls sharing deep friendship are idolised as sisters and two boys in a very strong bond are called bromancing. But when affection grows too strong in the typical heterosexual eyes, the same possibly platonic friendship with opposite sex is suggested to be deep romantic unrealized love. Why are we in such a hurry to define and box every bond?

    Are we genetically programmed to seek closure? Perhaps uncertainty unsettles us. Living in the moment is uncomfortable when we don’t know where it’s heading. If we find happiness with more than one person, society brands the person as frivolous, a philanderer. If we focus on one person too much, we’re called obsessed. Why are we so desperate to label love, to control it, to make it fit into neat categories?

    How, then, can anyone be sure of themselves when it comes to love? At what point in life does clarity come? How many years must we live before we understand what love truly means?

    Look around, and you’ll see that after money, love is what we’re always chasing. But no single kind of love seems enough. We crave the unconditional love of parents and siblings, the camaraderie of friends, and the intimacy of romantic relationships. Yet, we also hope to find one person—a soulmate—who can fulfill all these needs. Does this mean we instinctively know love has many layers? Is it revealing that not all feelings labeled as love are the same?

    Love is called the greatest emotion, but why is it so entangled with want? Is wanting someone the same as loving them? Or is giving the true essence of love? When I see goodness in someone which nobody else can, making them a special person from just an ordinary person in my life, is that love? If I don’t particularly like someone but still can’t bear to let go of them, is that love—or moral responsibility? When did love, supposedly limitless, become confined by ethics and boundaries?

    Am I giving too much importance to love? Perhaps. But all I know is that I enjoy unraveling its mysteries. The questions it raises are as infinite as the emotion itself. Love remains the most beautiful, perplexing puzzle of all.