There wasn’t a dramatic day. No chest pain. No crying girlfriend ultimatum. No temple vow or “last puff” moment under cinematic rain. Just me—standing outside my office, holding a cigarette and realizing I didn’t want to be this person anymore. Not in a tragic way. Just in a quiet, "I think I’m done with this version of myself" way. I’ve quit smoking twice before. Both times felt serious. Both times failed. The first time, I quit for my mother. Made a big vow, all the emotional drama included. Stayed clean for a month. Then cracked. Because, surprise: external guilt has an expiry date. The second time, I quit after a trip to the mountains. I meditated in front of a Shiva idol in the silence of Nainital and told myself: "No cigarettes until you’ve got a government job or earn ₹50K a month." It worked for a while—until my logic brain showed up and said, "Well technically you’ve kinda achieved that, so…" Cue: relapse. ✋ This time is different. ...
I didn’t wake up one day and become “the reflective guy.” It sort of happened between late-night walks, broken routines, poor decisions, and a few YouTube spirals that hit a little too deep. It started with Kabir , actually. Not in a temple. Not in a schoolbook. Just one of those random verses you read and suddenly feel like someone just diagnosed your soul in one sentence. “maya-maya sab kahe , maya lakhe na koi jo man se na utare, maya kahiye soye” It hit me different. Still does. The idea that you can care without being attached , be aware without performing , and exist without belonging to either side . Kabir made solitude feel like a choice, not a punishment. Made detachment feel warm, not hollow. Then came Shwetabh Gangwar . Yes, the YouTuber. Don’t roll your eyes. I wasn’t looking for a guru, I was just bored. But the way he explained “decision-making as a skill” or “not being emotionally available to nonsense” felt like someone finally gave words to ...