I want to be a finisher now.
Finish the stories I started to write.
Finish the sadhana every day.
Finish the food on my plate.
Finish my sentences.
Finish the projects I have set out on, take them to the finish line, make the profit.
Just be a finisher.
Finish what has mattered to me in the last 40 years.
What Has Even Mattered to Me These Last 40 Years?
This home is a good example.
I wanted a home like this — peaceful, calm, spacious, full of sunlight.
I wanted to have pets like these. Ten cats. One dog. All of them learning to get along with each other, playing, having fun every single day. I love the vibe they create. I would have loved to live with cows, horses and more trees… but maybe that’s for another lifetime.
I wanted time which I have now.
Time to read, write, work on a “difficult project,” and also time to lose it from time to time. I’ve hated that life where someone is sitting on my head just because he’s paying me, treating me like a modern slave. Third world country problems!
I wanted the guts to dream big and make it happen. Getting there late is okay. But never getting there — dropping the dream, settling for less, compromising — that has never been acceptable to me.
I wanted to write books, write stories that matter, like the ones I have floating in my head. And not just keep them there — but write them down, publish them, refine them, let those stories define my trajectory.
I want to write the kind of stories I always wanted to read.
Stories of resilience. Real struggle. Not Bollywood masala.
Real conflict — the ones I face every day.
What Real Conflict Am I Facing?
Within my marriage, with society, and with my family.
The conflict in marriage:
Patriarchy.
Both of us expecting each other to play traditional roles.
He expects me to behave like the women he’s seen — stable, nice, social.
And I expect him to protect me, pay for me, be “the man” in my life.
And none of this is working.
This patriarchy lodged in both our heads is making the marriage difficult.
I wish belief systems were like clothes — something you could remove, throw away, burn.
But beliefs are sticky. Like Fevicol.
Fevicol ka majboot jod hai. Chootega nahi!
The conflict with society:
I struggle to understand why everyone is wearing a mask.
Why everyone is hell-bent on putting up a happy face.
What’s the problem with speaking the truth?
Showing one’s vulnerability?
Why aren't we feeling safe with each other?
Everyone has weaknesses — so why are we all pretending?
Why do we live as if this is jungle raj?
And if it is jungle raj, then why call it a civilized society?
Don’t call it what it is not.
If we aren’t civilized, then say we aren’t civilized.
The conflict with family:
A namesake family.
A unit where children are produced to serve parents, but the parents act as if they’ve done some divine deed.
They expect respect, godly positions.
Every time I question something, emotional drama follows, the guilt-tripping starts — but I refuse to fall for it.
And my work:
My dream for my clients is to make them happy.
I know the judiciary is not the place to look for happiness, but I try to give them a glimpse of justice — or at least a settlement they can go home, sit with, sleep with.
Maybe I’m asking for too much in a third world country.
As I look back, I see that what mattered to me wasn’t the usual milestones society talks about. What mattered were deeper, quieter, more personal things:
1. A life of my own design — not one assigned to me.
The home, the sunlight, the animals, the freedom — these aren’t luxuries.
They’re proof that I’ve always wanted autonomy.
My life, my rhythm, my rules.
2. Creativity as a lifeline.
Writing isn’t a hobby.
It’s how I breathe, how I make sense of life, how I exist.
The unfinished stories are not tasks — they’re pieces of me waiting to be born.
3. Truth, even when it’s inconvenient.
I’ve never tolerated masks well — not in society, not in relationships.
Authenticity has always mattered more to me than acceptance.
4. Relationships free of roles and scripts.
Not patriarchy. Not duty. Not guilt.
I’ve always wanted bonds where both people can show up as humans, not characters in a play.
5. Justice — as a value, not just as a profession.
I’ve always wanted to help people walk away with lighter hearts, even in a broken system.
That’s not asking for too much — that’s my moral compass.
So What Is My Real Conflict?
My inner world wants truth, autonomy, courage, equality.
My outer world still runs on patriarchy, masks, guilt, fear.
I am not broken.
I am evolving faster than the structures around me.
The friction I feel is the friction of outgrowing the environment I was born into.
What Does It Mean to Be a Finisher Now?
It’s not about discipline or productivity.
It’s about finishing the unfinished parts inside me:
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the stories I promised myself
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the courage I kept postponing
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the dreams I owed my younger self
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the truth I swallowed too many times
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the freedom I kept waiting for
Finishing is not a task.
Finishing is a claiming.
So here I am.
Ready to finish.
Ready to complete the version of myself I’ve been building for 40 years.
