Category: rants

I have never been happier.

Posted on by Jahnavi Dhir

It’s been a month since my mom left me, alone, in a city whose language I do not speak and people I do not relate with. A month and I’ve met so many people, I’ve made friends, I’ve thought extensively about being alone and adulthood. I’ve managed to somehow be very quick with some people, trust them too quick. It’s not that I regret that decision yet, only time will tell, but im happy now. I’m happier now than I have been in a long time. It’s almost as if the thunder that once shook my spine has now subdued into soft whispers of the sea, barely audible, late at night. The music hasn’t stopped, but it’s a different genre now. The instruments are calmer now, a little more exciting also, but not at the cost of my sanity.

I think about the constant dilemma of being 17, away from the only reality you have known for your entire life. But in a month, the definition of home changes. Living alone and yet you feel surrounded by comfort. When there’s no crying at 3 am, when there’s sleep at 10, when there’s a schedule which is dull sometimes but also consistent and when there’s no screams of alcohol and drugs and addictions, I suppose, even grey seems better than black. And I often wonder if the sudden wash of calm I have let upon my being is a result of a cyclone’s aftereffects? Is this how it feels after a war tears apart a country? Is this how it feels to have an entire island change latitudes after a tsunami? I suppose it’s calmer than during the war, the remnants of what once used to be.

And in the process of enjoying my new found calm, there are bouts of anger and sadness and nostalgia for things that never happened. I feel angry at people for not letting me have a childhood, experiencing universal moments.

The disparity in expression and experience makes me sad and weirdly nostalgic too. Nostalgia for the heavy ‘what could have been’. The question that haunts the collective experience of human race, only because critical thinking was blessed upon us. Growing up and living alone in the capacity I am right now, is giving me perspective too. I am a firm believer that because we live in a world with 3 dimensions, our opinions on issues and topics should be, at the very least 2 dimensional. Thinking about people and cultures and words and art and history not only as an individual who was affected (or sometimes not) is evidence of narrow thinking. Said realisation has made me question the moral compass I once held and how I thought of the actions done by people around me. Everyone wishes they did things differently but most people end up choosing the option that suits them the best in the present. Hindsight is not a strong suit of humans apparently. 

A month I’ve been in a city, she’s pretty and she’s bold and she demands attention. She’s not the kindest of the lot, she’s not the most helpful at times, but she’s there, she’s strong and she lives and breathes determination. She has stood through storms and cyclones and she knows that there will be calm, before and after the destruction and tears, and she’s ready to pull herself back up. She’s not going anywhere. I’ve not met my family in a month and I’m happier than ever. It is calm, it is serene, but the city I live in, is teaching me to not expect it to last forever and be prepared for when the cyclone comes. Tsunamis never last forever, but neither does sadness and neither does tranquility. 

It’s nice to have that reminder often. 

Fear of the unknown.

Posted on by Jahnavi Dhir

As a young adult about to enter college, it is, obviously, a dilemma among others as to ‘what do I spend the next 4 years studying’, this is definitely the most crucial of them all. As a child with no external pressure regarding my course choices, it was all upto me. And although I had been procrastinating the ever evident ‘heart vs head’ for a solid 2 years now, this was the time to make a decision once and for all. Wether to follow my passion for words and diplomacy, or study business. I had a whole list of pros and cons that had seen multiple changes over the last years, I had talked to professionals in the fields, My own mother is a career counsellor for god’s sake. But yet, my mind had always faltered between these extremities. Safe vs Passion. 

Before delving into my inner dialogue, I wanted to touch on a rather sensitive topic. Financial insecurity. Lack of money as you grow up, or a traumatic incident wherein you experience a shortage of money suddenly, can alter your world view. Can make you question your Morales, ethics and sometimes, your integrity.  I experienced financial insecurity for a short while, it wasn’t ever as evident, my lifestyle had no sudden changes, but the underlying tension whenever my brother asked to eat out. My own hesitance when it came to asking mom for a new thing. Nothing was ever said, always felt. My mother handled the situation like an expert. I owe my entire being to her, but even a mother might not be able to understand what goes in her ward’s mind. Not her fault, not in the slightest, but sometimes it’s the situations that are to blame, not people. 

After experiencing an unsaid restraint of money, my entire concept of life changed. I started viewing my existence as a means to earn more money, my dreams, discarded. What are passions if they do not provide a comfortable lifestyle. I started preparing for entrance exams to the top business schools in India. I did so, with little interest because- it wasn’t something that I had honestly wanted to do. While applying to yet another business school I came across a course, one that was- quite honestly- a dream for a person like myself. Diplomacy, international relations, psychology, government, all wrapped up as different subjects, moulded into one perfect course. But, although I loved what they taught, I couldn’t bring myself to apply. With a lot of regret in my glassy eyes, I closed the tab. Let myself wallow, and went to class to prepare for B-School the next day. 

It wasn’t that I didn’t like business. A good amount of people said that my ideas had value. A few suggested I focus on entrepreneurship. And I respect and thank them to have such faith in me; A random 16 year old they had talked to, a handful of times in their lives. And I knew these weren’t the kind of people to flatter and appreciate shallowness. So there was substance in my preparing for business. But I knew that I could do B-School at 26, but I wouldn’t be able to do diplomacy at 32. The time limit for passion, was short. It required immediate action and dedication. On a random Wednesday evening, I offhandedly mentioned the course I so loved to my mother, as a ‘what is your professional opinion on this’, and her curt reply was ‘I’ve never heard of it’. Immediately my brain became foggy and I knew that I had wasted time even thinking that I could do this course, but her next sentence piqued my interest ‘But it seems like something you’d do well at. Tell me more.’ Enough to light a spark in my brain. I blabbered on and on about how this was the perfect course ever, it had the best subjects in one specialisations and it was so freaking interesting. My mom simply looked at me and smiled. The one which screams ‘I’m your mother and I know you better than you know yourself’. Enough to light a fire in my brain. 

I asked on the internet, used the hyped ChatGPT, an AI model to tell me about the career pathways by this course, found government departments I didn’t even know existed. I found a stable pathway after this degree, and then 5 more. And then the emotional rollercoaster started yet again. I cried almost every night, wondering if I should follow my heart or be practical. Humanities never pays enough. Science isn’t where my heart lies. Business isn’t something I want to do at this point in my life. Oh what an academic mess. 

Eventually, on one faithful night, I opened my email. There lied a mail from ‘The Daily Stoic’ a newsletter revolving around Stoicism; a philosophical theory publicised by Seneca and other great roman men way back in the day. The title read ‘Handle what you can control first’. An except from the letter says,

It’s interesting though how often we complain or chafe against these constraints…yet when the ball actually is in our court, we’re slow. We’re indecisive. We don’t do our best.

More than strange, it’s wasteful madness.’

And so the puzzle was solved at last. This is a decision I have to make, I have control over my life, I know where my interests lie. I had to consciously choose not to choose the easy way out. A run of the mill career pathway is so so enchanting. Get a good college, do a course, go to B-School, get into FAANG and you are set for life. There is no debate that some people enjoy this, some are good at it, and some get satisfaction from working 9-5. And it is not to shame the employees of big companies. But I knew that if I were to spend the next 30 years of my life in a MNC- I would be highly disappointed in myself on my death bed. Not because it would be ‘bad work’ but it would be work with no impact. I wouldn’t be able to improve anyones life but mine. I would think that I would die selfish in the most extreme sense, and I couldn’t settle with the idea. I decided that I needed to go big or go home, and home wasn’t comfortable. So I did what 30 people in all of India will be doing. I applied and got in, a relatively new course. Studying the national policies of India. With a glimmer in my eye, hoping to work on public policy. I am, ultimately, selfish, as most of us are, as I hope to do something the world will remember me by. But I think I can live with being selfish if it improves lives.

And I am not a pessimist, a realist maybe. If I do end up empty handed after a few gruelling years in this course of study, or if I end up wanting to pursue business ,I will always have the option open. There’s a backup plan for every backup plan in my books. (Probably why I considered Strategic studies in the first place)

To all the people reading this. I promise you, I dont- infact- know. I dont know if I made the right decision. Only life and time will tell. But if time does me right, if I do me right, I think I might be on the right path.  As I once read, ‘It is easy to steer a ship on water than on land’. Although there’s no shame in steering your ship, you need to get in the sea. See what lies ahead. 

A life on the waters is most probably more adventurous than on land I suppose. Wouldn’t be wasteful madness.

and what am I doing this for?

Posted on by Jahnavi Dhir

Recently, I have been thinking about the meaning of life, I hope I didn’t. The thing is, going to class, I often wonder why do I bother? Taking these classes, studying, giving my exams. Why does anyone bother? What is it that binds humans to one profession, one person, one kid, one place? Some answers, are very obvious, the way we have been taught about living is so- narrow, you’d think that we would have suffocated by now. The way we see our parents, and our grandparents, and our friends, their parents, our role models. It’s all very ‘singled out’ one-for-one.  But really, if that was the reason we were to live, if our entire existence was supposed to be held in different rooms, all within familial buildings, why is it that I seek the unknown? I have always thought of myself as a rational, logical person. Philosophy is interesting to think about, but implementing ideas so vague, seems like the most illogical, irrational thing to do, yet recently I find myself looking out for trees, and watching the neon signs as I pass them by, to stare at the temple gates and deities for a second too long, to feel- to really see, hear, touch. It doesn’t take alot of effort too, to notice and to be aware, yet the little extra push, the forcing of oneself to acknowledge their surroundings, to be present, is something humanity has forgotten along the way. We have no tyrant but ourselves. We have made moulds and have expected entire species to fit them.

The degradation of the human experience is evident. The ideal life, is no longer one that is satisfied, or happy, it is one which has stability. Does it root from our fear of the unknown?  Or the impoverished way we have learnt to live our lives? In cities as big as New Delhi, it isn’t difficult to find millions, ready to not step out of their comfort zone. To never challenge themselves too hard, to never take a leap of faith. I understand them, I really do. It was very hard for me to click on ‘BA English’ than the glorified, safe, easy- ‘B.Sc’. I defied a mould that day. I defied my own inhibitions about what I should be, I remodelled my destiny. But again, I ask, why did I bother about going to college? Why do I look forward to it? When it is, hopefully, evident that I despise the way our society functions? And college- or rather- institutionalised education is one of the most atrocious thing we have given ourselves? 

I would like to believe it is because of our desire to connect. The biggest leverage we have on other species, the reason why we continue to be at the top of the food chain, is because we have the gift of language, and of empathy.  Other species too, communicate, but the depth of languages and of art that we, as humans, have created is something to admire, each day. We have created a system, a complex symphony of small symbols, that tell how we feel, see, listen. The ability to give these words- sounds, and to add even further complexities to differentiate in their pronunciations, to add even smaller symbols to know how to speak a mixture of these words; the creativity, this is what makes us humans. Then why do we stick to the same old regular jobs? The same old places we grew up in? What are we so afraid of? 

Failure. I’ve talked about failure before, and I still, ardently believe that failure is an event, not an adjective. The reason why humans, despite having the skills, and knowing that they have the resources, fail to act boldly is due to their fear of failure. Fear in itself is binding, and failure is incapacitating. Together, they are bound to doom our growth. Some 150 years ago, most monarchy’s came to an end, capitalisation was on the surge and independent choices were encouraged. A new era- I suppose- of humanity had ascended. One where we were less afraid to try simply because it was the trend, slowly turning familial. People who took risks at the time, are now, surely, dead. But their families are enjoying the fruit of their labour. I am sure they too, lived lavish lives . Others which were too afraid, I am sure, remained so. Incapacitated by their own minds. 

And I understand the need for comfort. What are we if not beings of togetherness. The highest form of punishment to a human is not starvation, or lack of access to water. It is isolation. We are beings of society, and asking even the most illiterate of humans, you’d know that staying alone, causes ‘madness’. So I understand the need to be in familial surroundings. To not change, to fear having to be alone, in a place you’ve never been in, with a person you’ve never been with, to do a job you’ve never done;  even if that same comfort, is causing you more pain than peace. 

Why am I doing this, a tangential question from the problem I set out to resolve. Why am I applying to colleges, eager to be in a different place, to meet people I’ve never met before, to study subjects I’ve probably never studied before. Why? The answer is more simple than my philosophical takes on human civilisation. With living the way my parents, my cousins, my uncles, my role models have lived before, I hope to find hope. Hope to live a life that no one forgets, to impact people. To defend my humanity, to do something that couldn’t have been done by anyone else. To make decisions that inspire other people to do what their heart says, in a system that works mostly on brains. To have the final freedom. Freedom to see, to hear, to touch and feel. To live in places I’ve never lived in before. The world is such a small place, we think too largely of. I hope, that by doing what I am, I can achieve something memorable. Obviously, I mould to the pathways set 150 years ago. Life has made me cautious of risking too recklessly, but I know that if I give my progeny the freedom that I lacked, the resources I lacked, I could, at the very least, know that I am doing all of this, for my people, for hope.

Bye snakers!

Does money buy happiness?

Posted on by Jahnavi Dhir

I used to think that if I got rich, I would be magically happier.

– Emma Chamberlain

“When I was younger, my answer would’ve have been- yes. I always had everything I need(ed). I had an incredible childhood, but I was always comparing myself to the rich kids at school. It made me feel angry and resentful because their lives seemed easy. Even though my life was incredible. But I still felt bad because I didn’t come from money.”

This is a rough extract from Emma Chamberlain’s podcast. And this is the experience of many children growing up. She goes on to mention how when she had just started making money as a 17 year old, the luxuries she could afford further solidified her belief. But nonetheless, the question still stands, Does money buy you happiness. Well for starters one has to identify what happiness means to them. Is happiness in saving millions for an early retirement. Is it spending quality time with your loved ones. Or is it in meeting the societal demand of a big house, bigger bank account?

For many people, happiness is complex, and as human nature goes, the concept of happiness is every evolving among most populations. From wanting a good nice Hyundai to maybe the cheaper SUV to the next new Ferrari, our wants never stop. And for a second; objectively thinking, that is a good thing. If our aspirations go dormant, so does our will to live and explore. Now, that is not ideal is it? Our goals and hunger to achieve them are not only respondent to our own self image but are also vital for the company we work with, or the people we love. Having no goals is reflective of a sad, sad life. But again, if sadness lies in not wanting anything, is happiness the opposite of it? Wanting all and always?

Well, no. The theory of humanity has always been in  extremeties. We love to believe that it’s all black and white. But ironically, the most interesting thing that we are yet to explore in the human brain is the grey matter. The part that is neither black nor white. Having said that, it is the truth that when your basic necessities are met you will be happy. There is no doubt that someone with a small cramped apartment and having barely any money to feed themselves will not be nearly as happy as someone who doesn’t have to worry about the next meal and the electricity bill next month. The freedom of travel that money gives you. The liberty of having access to quality health care these are all immeasurable. But still, what is happiness? 

Many believe that it is a subjective question impossible to answer. I dont. I think that happiness is when a person does not have to worry about much in their lives. It is not possible to live a stress free life. Stress is not a one off event. It is engrained in our living and you cannot imagine to live without it. But again, happiness, I believe, is when you can stop working for a few days when you dont feel well, you can afford quality education for your kids, provide yourself with good opportunities; when you have a nice little backyard with a dog and life doesn’t feel like living on thorns all the time. Financial independence is not overrated. Pseudo happiness lies in the macro luxuries. In the best red car, in the diamond studded gowns. Things that can wear with time. Education, experiences and moments remain forever, bags and houses they rust and wither. The beauty fades the brain remains. 

So, does money buy you happiness? Yes and no. Because sure it can give you the freedom to explore, resources to have memories and experiences that you otherwise would have missed out on, but on the other hand, in the pursuit of making said money, you may loose on the people you can share the experiences with. Making huge money often has a pattern. 4 wives, 7 kids, all from different wives and girlfriends. You might earn a good amount but you have no family to share the money with. The only leverage is, with insane money, you can buy friends. And the thing is, in todays date, money isn’t that hard to find, but authentic relationships and experiences are worth the world, the world and beyond. 

words, money and me

Posted on by Jahnavi Dhir

this is an old rant I wrote and I like it alot so here we go!

I’d been reading since I was little. A little girl with nothing to my name other than the stories I made up. I wanted to be a writer when I was a child, inspired by what I was taught in my books. All the chapters, all the characters. I thought that was it, the 15 chapters that made up my 4th grade book. They were the epitome of imagination. When I was a little older, in my later years in middle school, I went to the library. My eyes wide, I couldn’t possibly believe it. So many pages, with an infinite amount of knowledge. It scared me. Intimidated me. But I picked up a book. I read what the author wanted to say and in my childish fantasies I thought I understood the deep symphonies of words. I didn’t, but the idea that I did, it fuelled my brain and my hands to turn more pages. I became engrossed in writing and reading and later on, listening. Words, they became my solace. I couldn’t say alot when my father started drinking,  I could barely listen to him. So I turned to my beloved once again. Stories of children my age, going on heists, living in fantasy worlds, loving. 

Loving. 

I never saw real love in the universe I lived in. For the most of my life, I did not believe in love. All I believed in was, mutual satisfaction. Understanding maybe, but mutual compromise and gain. Profit and losses. I hated numbers ever since I was little, but they made more sense than words saying how the prince died for the princess. Words started to look like myths and mysteries. I realised that I only ever thought that I knew what love was. And I only ever thought that logic made no sense. I thought I was artistic, but to be artistic and to be imaginative and to understand what the author meant, a person needs to be open to ideas. Hate, revenge, jealously, envy, I could understand. I had seen them. But love. That was not, That is not, what I consider real. 

If love was real, then someone, someone I knew had to be in love. I know multiple people, many claim to be in love but all I really see is opportunists. They trained me, the world I lived in, it trained me to hate, to work for myself and to be content with it. Because although it looked like people cared about each other, it wasn’t ever about religion, or beliefs. Love or hate. It was about power. Because it was about fear. With fear comes power, with power; money and that is what everyone respects. It never mattered that women were allowed rights or not, if sexualities were allowed to love or not. It was about opportunity. About taking away power. Before the construction of institutions, we confined some ‘defaults’ and the whole of humanity just- rolled with. 

Women in the kitchen, men out in the open. Women and Men having intercourse and then children. Women take care of the children and men earned money, made institutions more powerful. Women could cry, although they did ‘no real work’ and men couldn’t show vulnerability. Women could not love women. Men had to be in a competition with other men. White people held power, people of colour worked for them, not with them. The more money one had, the more respect one gets. We never enabled our women to earn and then we go on to cry for equal rights. Rights are not earned, is what I’ve seen. Rights are directly proportional to the money you make. One does not have to fight for rights, only for money. It’s all math and we act as if we care about emotions. About art. About words. 

Words are just little symbols on little pages in little books. You can destroy words, just like you can destroy a little girl’s wish to become a writer. Because the little girl grew up. She became greedy after money because the more money someone had, she saw, the more respect they got. 

She left her words and her books alone, because eventually, it all comes down to simple maths. Earning dollars, spending pounds. 

The girl is not me though. I grew up even worse. Did I give up my dream of writing and exploring and sharing my words? Yes, of course, I live in capitalism. Did I give up on love? Yes of course, I am from the  50% of families that end up getting divorced. Did I do it for someone else? For society? 

Yes. Yes I did. Because I’ve finally learnt to live in it. To understand the symphonies of words. Words tell us to be kind, to respect, but Ive understood that is false. 

Love and hate and jealousy and revenge, all are equal. 

Love just had more money.