Softening the edges

 I took a leave today—a sick leave, to be precise. Skipping lunch for extra sleep felt like the right call, but waking up in a half-dazed state, I glanced at the clock and immediately berated myself for being unproductive. Perhaps it’s the viral flu weighing me down, yet I pushed myself to sit and study. I’ve always been my harshest critic, constantly measuring my worth by how much I accomplish, even when my body tells me to rest.

Later in the evening, I found myself on a phone call, reflecting on how chaotic my life has felt lately. The only person to blame is me. Shakespeare once said, Sweet are the uses of adversity, and I’ve lived by that, often to my own detriment. I’ve always been tough on myself, convinced that this is the only way to navigate life, but lately, I’m starting to wonder if there’s another way.

At times, it feels as though I’m in a constant pursuit of perfection, holding myself to standards that don’t always leave room for grace or self-compassion. My life often mirrors the Stoic belief in endurance—bearing hardships with silent strength—but there’s an existential pull beneath it, a quiet voice questioning whether I’m truly choosing this path or merely succumbing to the weight of expectation. In striving for meaning, I sometimes feel lost in the struggle itself.

There are certain movies I adore but can't watch often because they leave me overwhelmed. One such movie is Dear Zindagi. A particular scene comes to mind where the protagonist learns that the difficult path isn’t always the right one—sometimes, the easier road can lead to equally fulfilling destinations. Perhaps it’s time to rewatch it.

Later tonight, I spoke to a childhood friend. She reminded me that even when I struggle to choose myself, she will. That conversation left me feeling a little lighter, a little more hopeful.

Maybe I’ve always been this way—focused and vigilant, quick to extend softness to others but relentless with myself—but I’m starting to see that it’s okay to soften the edges, to let go of the perfect path and embrace the imperfect journey ahead. There’s room for both strength and tenderness, for striving and for surrender.

Taking a small step, I turned off the like count on my Instagram and posted a picture. It felt like a subtle reclaiming of my own narrative, a small act of resistance against the constant need for external validation. 

The world seems a tone brighter as the audio from my Instagram post plays in the background - pak chik pak Raja babu, chal gaya koi Jadu...