There’s a saying in Hindi: “Paisa bolta hai” (Money talks). When I first heard it, I laughed. I thought, How can money talk? It’s just paper! But life, my dear friends, is the ultimate prankster. It doesn’t just prove you wrong—it ensures you feel every ounce of it. Turns out, money doesn’t just talk—it screams. And trust me, the world listens.
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The Illusion of Relationships
I used to be the kind of person who believed in people, emotions, and promises. I thought relationships were built on trust and love. You know, pure Bollywood vibes. The kind where violins play in the background, and every tear drop feels cinematic. But here’s the reality—life isn’t a Bollywood movie.
There’s no background music when your heart breaks. No slo-mo when people walk out on you. It’s just raw silence, and you’re left wondering, Was it all fake?
I trusted everyone—family, friends, even strangers who promised to “be there for me.” And where did that blind faith land me? Nowhere.
When my own family abandoned me for reasons that had nothing to do with me, something inside me broke. I stopped feeling. I stopped believing.
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When Doubt Becomes Your Default
And here’s the kicker: even when someone genuinely needs help now, my first thought is, “Are they lying? Is this another scam?”
This new version of me—let’s call it “Sherlock 2.0”—doesn’t solve mysteries. It just suspects everyone of being fake. Congratulations, world, you’ve turned me into a full-time cynic!
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The Bhagavad Gita: A Lifeline
But then, in the chaos of emotions, the Bhagavad Gita stepped in. It whispered truths that hit me harder than reality ever could.
“Karmanye Vadhikaraste Ma Phaleshu Kadachana”
(You have the right to perform your duty, but not to the fruits of your actions.)
I loved, trusted, and supported people. I gave my everything, believing that the world would reciprocate. But here’s the fine print I missed: don’t expect anything in return.
Lesson learned. My bad, Gita.
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Netflix and Exhaustion
Now, here’s the funny part. I used to think I was special, that my presence mattered to people. Turns out, I was just someone to fill their empty hours. Basically, a free Netflix subscription. No wonder I felt so drained!
Another line from the Gita hit me like a wake-up call:
“Sangam tyaktva dhananjaya”
(Abandon attachment, O Arjuna.)
And that’s exactly what I did. I let go—not with bitterness, but with clarity. I realized that being there for everyone wasn’t noble. It was self-destructive. And choosing myself? That wasn’t selfish—it was survival.
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Where I Am Today
These days, I laugh more at life’s absurdities than cry over its unfairness. If someone walks out on me, I hold the door open. If promises are broken, I remind myself they were just words strung together to sound good.
I’m not bitter. I’m just done playing the fool. People showed me their true colors, and I don’t blame them. I blame myself for painting them in shades they never were.
But here’s what keeps me sane—my humor. If I can’t trust anyone, at least I can trust my ability to laugh at the mess life throws at me.
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A Question for You
So, here’s my question:
How long will you keep holding onto people who don’t hold you back?
Think about it. Reflect. And when you find your answer, remember this:
Peace begins the moment you choose yourself.
Untangled Mind 