Traditions Being Abused

As soon as we hear the word traditions, most of us immediately picture something orthodox or deeply cultural. And yes, traditions definitely carry those meanings, no doubt in that. But what we often forget is that many traditional practices have evolved over time, adapting themselves to fit into our changing routines and the facilities available to us. Some practices have even been left behind, either because we no longer have the time for them or, in rarer cases, because they are no longer relevant in our present context. Yet, despite this, we still treat them as ideals, almost sacred, even when we don’t fully understand them.

Notice how many of you might have clicked on this blog simply after seeing the word tradition. It acts as a sort of bait because this word is powerful; it draws attention no matter the domain: school, college, social media, or even politics. But the problem begins when, in politics, for instance, tradition becomes a trigger for clashes and conflicts instead of encouraging healthy discussion. Politicians know the weight this word carries, and they use it to gain traction, often exploiting it as a tool to manipulate emotions. That’s one way the term tradition gets abused.

The same trend spills into social media. Take, for example, the countless videos exaggerating the struggles of being a married homemaker handling daily chores. Such content drags in two groups of people: on one side, those who believe in patriarchal ideas and see such videos as justification to continue living in outdated setups; on the other side, self-proclaimed feminists who rage against the stereotypes and try to “prove men wrong.” Now, glance at the comments under these posts; it’s a battlefield of arguments, insults, and heated debates. And where is the creator in all this? Silent, of course, enjoying the rise in engagement, views, and earnings. The irony is that the viewers get nothing out of it. The orthodox feel satisfied because their morals seem validated, but they’re only reinforcing delusions. Meanwhile, the so-called feminists waste their energy in rants that lead nowhere. In the end, both sides lose, while the creator gains. Wouldn’t you agree with me?

And now, with festivals around the corner, the misuse of traditions reaches another level. Social media becomes flooded with festive posts, colourful outfits, cultural captions, and endless displays of pride. Appreciating and celebrating our culture is wonderful, no doubt, but the sad part is how little we actually understand the significance behind these practices. Many of us follow traditions blindly, some perform rituals just for the sake of it, while others do it only for the pictures and validation. Isn’t it ironic that something so meaningful has been reduced to a trend for likes and shares?

I genuinely wish more people took the time to learn about the traditions they follow,  their origins, their real purpose, and their deeper value. That awareness alone could reduce the abuse of this word we so often throw around.

You’re most welcome to share your opinions on this. I’d love to hear your perspectives and learn from your point of view.

The Hidden Struggles of Growing Up in an Indian Household

When I was young, I always saw homesickness as something weak and silly that young adults went through. It felt like a foreign concept to me, since I had already started sleeping alone when I was just 8 years old. Maybe in Western countries, this doesn’t sound like a big deal; that’s the norm there. But in an Indian household, it’s different. Most of my friends still preferred to sleep with their parents. It’s a cultural thing... especially with girls, who usually sleep close to their mothers, while boys are often encouraged to sleep alone much earlier.

I started arguing with my parents to let me sleep alone in my room when I was in the 3rd grade. The thought of sleeping alone in my room felt so tempting; it felt like my first step toward independence. My mom wasn’t pleased with my decision. She wanted to adore me and keep me close before I grew up too fast.

Relatives always complained that I was too dependent on my mom, that I never went anywhere without her. But it wasn’t really like that; I was just protecting my boundaries. My “escape route” was to stick with my mom whenever someone tried to cross them. I feel like in India, many people don’t really understand the idea of respecting boundaries. Maybe that’s why so many fights happen in households.

As a kid, I had to survive giant family functions where elders loved teasing children, especially the quiet ones. I was naturally reserved, and when I ran to my mom, I was instantly labeled timid, cowardly, or weak. Back then, I didn’t know the term boundary, but their taunts stayed with me, and I always felt the need to prove them wrong. That’s why sleeping alone became my first step toward independence.

It started with me sleeping on a mattress on the floor near my parents, then gradually moving further away, until I finally began sleeping in my own room. But even then, it wasn’t enough to silence my relatives. They kept picking on random things about me. Now that I’m older, I wonder if all those efforts were just attempts to pull me down and assert their dominance, while trying to make their kids look superior. What they didn’t realize was that by doing this, they weren’t just hurting me; they were teaching their own kids nothing but ego and unhealthy competition.

Over time, I began detaching from these toxic people and avoiding family functions. For a while, I thought I had finally found peace and could focus on my growth. But jealousy and insecurity came back this time, not only from elders but even from cousins. The toxicity doubled, the distance grew, and the detest became clearer. Once again, peace slipped away.

Now, my way of coping is simple: I ignore them, keep my distance, and never share my personal growth or activities with them. Some might see it as running away, but honestly.... why would I get my hands dirty with such negativity?

I used to think the newer generation would be different, that we’d be smart enough to break this cycle. But I’ve realized it’s less about generation and more about upbringing. For now, the only thing I can do is hope people start reflecting on their actions and make a conscious effort to change.

When marks mattered more than values

High school is unforgettable. For me, it was both the happiest and the hardest time of my life. I had a taste of both sides; it started out memorable… and ended up being traumatic. I suppose it’s the same for many Indian teens out there.

My 9th and 10th grades were some of my most favourite moments of my life. Even though COVID destroyed parts of it, they were still quite memorable. Online school suited me perfectly. No more getting up early, doing the whole hurry-burry, and running to catch my school bus. I could set my own schedule; I was my own boss. It almost felt too good to be true.

I had great friends and never felt the need to change my personality. Even with the 10th boards coming up and schools reopening, I never felt pressured to study. It’s not like I didn’t study; in fact, I had a routine of waking up at 4 a.m. to study till 7, and another 3 hours after school. But it was my own choice, my own interest, and I genuinely liked it.

The school wasn’t hectic either. I hung out with friends during breaks, played games, and we hardly spoke about studies outside class hours. My scores were pretty good, too. I wasn’t the topper, and I didn’t feel the need to be. I had a perfect balance in life, and for once, I was just a happy teen enjoying my school days.

Just as I was happy about doing well in boards, came the next chapter, grades 11 and 12. Everyone was splitting into different streams and colleges, and I had to make one of the most difficult choices of my life: picking a +2 college. Thanks to my grades, I had options, but I kept jumping back and forth between them. Finally, I chose a college known for its entrance exam coaching. I thought I was making the right choice. I had no idea it was the start of my trauma.

This college had the most ridiculous rules. Interaction between boys and girls was strictly prohibited, so much so that we had to use different corridors to avoid speaking to each other. Their reason? To avoid relationships, so we could “focus on studies.” I agree we should focus, but the way they implemented it was terrible.

The entire environment was extremely study-focused, almost like a factory for producing toppers. Teachers drilled us every day to boost the college’s name. Students were brainwashed into believing that marks were the most important thing in life. Friendships were based on academic performance, not values. Jealousy replaced admiration.

What shocked me most was that the college paid students for extraordinary marks. A reward could have been anything else, but money? That turned studying into a transaction for some and fueled jealousy for others. Breaks were seen as laziness. Sleeping 8 hours was a “crime.”

My health started breaking down, I fell sick almost every month, missed classes, and struggled to keep up. The more I fell behind, the more stressed I became. Anxiety caught up quickly, and breakdowns became normal.

You can’t talk to your “college friends” because they aren’t really your friends. Your old school friends have schedules of their own. You don’t tell your parents because you don’t want them to worry. You’re just stuck, fighting a battle with no plan, heading nowhere. Slowly, your grades drop, your confidence disappears, and you start hating yourself.

In just two years, the cheerful, confident version of me was gone. I had turned into someone I barely recognized. I hope one day people stop measuring students by their ranks and start valuing them for their perseverance, kindness, and dreams. Marks might make you competitive, but they will never make you human.