A thought without a title

 I was born into a time when things had meanings, friendship was akin to brotherhood, and parents and grandparents were our first teachers. We mimicked their actions, and neighbors would hold up our good behavior as examples for their own children. As a child, everything seemed fresh and new; we were learning the real, albeit simple, truths of the world. I remember feeling terrified of taking written exams on a clipboard because, until third grade in our government school, we only had verbal exams. Life was different then; it had meaning. Days were long enough to play cricket twice when school was off. We shared so little—a plate of biryani with friends, or a kulfi with my brother—yet it brought immense happiness. There were no life aims or strategies to achieve them; it was simply me, living a comfortable life with family and friends, blissfully unaware of the harsh realities of the world.

But what seems real is often a fabrication by those who benefit from our ignorance. What has changed? Many things have. Today’s parents give birth to children with predefined expectations—to become what they themselves could not achieve. They train their children to become engineers or doctors before they even understand these words. The pursuit of money becomes the central goal, often at the expense of the child’s true interests or happiness. Parents, themselves conditioned by a system that prizes individual success over collective well-being, end up perpetuating a cycle where personal gain is seen as synonymous with the detriment of another. They call this a competition, but in truth, it is a battle among the incompetent, driven by materialism.

In modern times, friendships have also become transactional and selective. People choose friends based on utility and the perceived benefits they can provide. They quote sayings like, “If you are with readers, you’ll become a reader and successful,” implying that friendships should be formed based on a utilitarian calculation rather than a genuine connection. No one seems to think that friends should not be judged by their ability to achieve or read, but by how much they can stand by you in times of sorrow and happiness.

Reflecting on my past understanding, I now realize I lived in a Platonic world where everything seemed fine and smooth—friendship, family relationships, work, and life goals. But as we grow older, life experiences and the realities around us start to unravel these illusions. What is reality, then? For some, what I have shared may seem trivial—that is their reality. But what is reality, truly? I am not Plato or Aristotle, expecting everyone to embrace my ideas. I am not a CSP officer commanding public acceptance, nor a scholar to whom the academic world bows. So, who am I? I am just an ordinary person, growing and coming to terms with the new realities of a world where friendships are conditional, familial love is often tied to economic support, and even marriage can be a transaction of societal expectations.

You feel happy because you think you are making others happy; you feel sad when others around you are sad. You feel proud only if someone else makes you feel proud, and you believe in yourself only when society validates you. This is the reality of the world we live in. What I suggest to those who want to be happy is to follow what society demands; otherwise, you’ll find yourself writing reflections like this, learning lessons only for yourself.