My Journey from Conservatism to Liberalism

I proudly call myself a feminist and a socially liberal person today, but this identity did not come to me naturally. I did not grow up in a liberal household or society. Liberal ideas were not a part of the culture, community, or environment in which I was raised. In fact, they were foreign to me, sometimes even threatening, because they challenged almost everything I had been taught to believe.

And yet, once I began examining those beliefs with honesty, there was no going back. It took me quite some time to gather the courage and intellect to examine my cultural and social conditioning, but I am glad that I was able to do this. I know that for many, this is not even possible; they spend their entire life living in a bubble and fighting to protect that bubble with all their intellect and power. I could not imagine a world where discrimination and oppression were excused as “culture,” “tradition,” or “religion.” My journey to this realization was slow, difficult, uncomfortable, and ultimately liberating.

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Growing Up in a Conservative World

I was born and raised in Pune, in a family that had migrated from Uttar Pradesh to Maharashtra. My childhood environment was deeply conservative. Religion and culture shaped every aspect of our lives, so intensely that people were willing to harm each other in the name of protecting “honor,” “faith,” or “tradition.”

Patriarchy was not subtle where I grew up.
Misogyny was not hidden.
Casteism was not questioned.

Religious bigotry and hatred were not just taught but were expected as a part of your affiliation with your religion. These weren’t just social norms; they were considered virtues. And like most children, I absorbed all of it. I had no alternative worldview, no exposure to anything different, and no one around me who would challenge the system.

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The First Cracks: Movies, Books, and Questions

Things began to shift only when I started watching movies of my choosing and reading books outside the school curriculum. Those stories introduced ideas that were almost revolutionary for my conservative mind:

• Caste discrimination was real

• Gender inequality was everywhere

• Religion was used as a tool for dominance and polarization for political gains

• “Honor” was often a mask for oppression

These books and films planted doubts, small at first, then louder. 

Questions began forming:
Why are women treated as second-class citizens?
Why do we claim to worship goddesses but deny respect to real women?
Why are some people considered inferior just because of their last names?
Why was I told to dislike Muslims without knowing anything about them?

Growing up during the Ram Mandir movement added fuel to the confusion. Like many teenagers around me, I fell for the rhetoric. I sympathized with the movement simply because I believed it was my duty as a Hindu. I was so immersed and impressed by conservative rhetoric and propaganda around me that I even wrote a letter to Mr. P. N. Oak, author of the controversial book, Taj Mahal-The True Story (I read the Marathi version of the book). I completely believed his conspiracy theory about the Taj Mahal being a Hindu temple, and proudly treasured his postcard reply where he praised my commitment to the Hindu cause.

At that time, I thought I was doing something noble and great. I was really proud of my anger and hatred against people whom I didn't know, just based on unverified statements by someone whom I believed to be intelligent. 
Looking back, I realize how easily young minds can be influenced when they grow up in environments that encourage obedience and subjugation, not questioning.

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Understanding Gender: The Most Painful Realization

Of all the discriminatory practices around me, gender inequality was the most visible and the most disturbing once I learned to see it. It was everywhere, in my home, in my neighborhood, the rest of society, in most movies that I watched, and in the country. I watched women’s lives shrink after marriage. Young girls who had a little freedom as teenagers were suddenly expected to:

• cover their faces

• speak softly or not at all

• avoid going out alone

• defer to any male relative, including boys younger than them

Even in my own home, when important family matters were discussed, men sat in the main room while women listened from the other room. Their opinions, even when the issue affected them directly, were neither asked for nor welcomed.

This wasn’t considered oppression.
It was “culture.”
It was “tradition.”
It was “how things are supposed to be.”

I was told to be proud of these things and protect them at any cost. And yet, something in me was deeply uncomfortable.

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Breaking the Mold: Marriage, Books, and Self-Reflection

When the time came for my own marriage, a simple request, to speak to the girl before saying yes, was considered a bold act. Reena’s extremely modest expectations from her future husband startled me. They exposed how deeply unfair the system was to women.

This moment acted like a mirror. I realized how much I needed to change, both around me and within me, if I wanted to break the conservative mold I had inherited.

As there was no one around me to whom I could talk or ask any questions, books became my biggest teachers.
They validated my doubts.
They challenged my assumptions.
They held up a mirror to parts of my belief system that I had never examined.

Every new concept: feminism, equality, social justice, representation, challenging traditions and superstitions, human rights, was like learning a new language. Slowly, liberal values entered my life, one step at a time.

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Becoming a Parent: The Final Transformation

If books opened the door, my children pushed me firmly through it.
Becoming a father, especially wanting a daughter so desperately, forced me to confront the biggest taunt I used to receive:

“You will understand the importance of these rules/traditions when you have a daughter.”

I wanted to prove, to others and to myself, that I truly believed in equality. My children made me revisit every belief I had inherited. They made me examine my unconscious biases. They pushed me to imagine a world where they could grow without fear, limitations, or discrimination.

Parenthood turned questioning into responsibility.

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Letting Go of Hate and Rediscovering Myself

My shift from conservatism to liberalism had nothing to do with political ideology, left or right.
It had everything to do with empathy, justice, and self-awareness.

It is not easy to admit that everything you once believed in, things your family, religion, and community glorified, can be wrong. It is not easy to stand against practices that people around you consider sacred. Most of them were good people; they simply followed what tradition told them. When culture and religion justify discrimination, people no longer see it as wrong.  

But the moment you start questioning, the entire structure begins to unravel.

You realize how ideologies manipulate you into becoming a loyal follower instead of a critical thinker. As Dr. Ambedkar wrote, a Hindu is a casteist not because he is a bad person but because he wants to be a good Hindu. You realize how prejudice is taught, not inherited. You realize how privilege can blind you to the pain of others.

This realization was painful, but liberating.
And once I embraced it, I could never go back.

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Where I Stand Today

Today, I still care deeply about politics and society. I vote in every election. But I am not a blind supporter of any political party. I am a deliberate supporter of equality, dignity, representation, and justice.

I take pride in calling myself a feminist.
I actively work on recognizing and correcting my biases, both conscious and unconscious.

Living in the U.S. exposed me to topics like LGBTQ+ rights and mental health, which were not part of my upbringing. These were shocking at first, but slowly, through listening and learning, I understood their importance. I am still learning.

And that, perhaps, is the biggest lesson of my journey:
Liberalism is not a destination. It is a continuous process of self-reflection.

Thank you for reading, and please share your views on this topic. 

© Vinay Thakur, All rights reserved. Vinay can be reached at thevinay2022@gmail.com 

True Leaders Don’t Demean Others to Prove Their Own Leadership

Most leaders love giving speeches, and many are gifted orators, at least when addressing their fan base. Yet, some seem to have made it their mission to belittle or ridicule the performance of their predecessors, believing that doing so somehow elevates their own image.

When a leader feels the need to demean their predecessors to highlight their own achievements, it reveals insecurity rather than strength. What past leaders did is history. Governance is about progress and accountability, not theater.

A confident leader focuses on plans, delivers on promises, and lets results speak louder than words. Healthy criticism of political opponents is natural, after all, different ideologies will always clash, but disagreement should not devolve into mockery or personal attacks. Constantly belittling others doesn’t project strength; it only exposes pettiness and a lack of substance.

Too often, this mockery and political drama are deliberately staged to distract the public from real issues and evade accountability. These performances are designed to energize the fan base, to make them feel victorious, even when their own lives are mired in hardship. Sadly, this tactic has been perfected by certain leaders in both India and the United States. What’s more concerning is how many people fail to see through the act and, in doing so, allow themselves to be shortchanged.

Many of today’s leaders are driven by narcissism, greed, and self-interest. But the responsibility doesn’t lie with them alone. The onus also rests on those who cheer, enable, and normalize such behavior. When we applaud leaders who demean others, we’re not only endorsing toxic discourse, we’re helping it spread through society.

It’s time to reject this culture of divisive and demeaning leadership. The power to change lies with the people, because in the end, we get the leaders we deserve. And surely, we deserve better.

Thank you for reading. Please share your views on this topic. 

© Vinay Thakur, All rights reserved. Vinay can be reached at thevinay2022@gmail.com

Immigration Is a Privilege, So Is Holding Elected Office

It is widely accepted that immigration is a privilege, not an entitlement. A country extends this privilege after determining that the presence of immigrants will benefit its economy, society, culture, or intellectual ecosystem. Acknowledging immigration as a privilege, however, should never be used as a justification to treat immigrants as second-class citizens.

Immigrants understand that they do not possess all the rights reserved exclusively for citizens, such as voting or holding certain public offices. That reality is neither controversial nor unreasonable. At the same time, fundamental human and civil liberties: freedom of expression, freedom of assembly, freedom to practice or not practice religion, and protection from discrimination, should never be conditional on citizenship status. These values are not just moral ideals; they are core democratic principles and among the very reasons immigrant-friendly countries attract global talent in the first place.

People do not leave their homelands lightly. Contrary to popular rhetoric, only a small fraction of immigrants leave because of war or extreme distress. Most leave with heavy hearts, separating from family, culture, and familiarity in search of opportunity, dignity, and a safer future for their children. Starting over in a new country requires courage, resilience, and enormous sacrifice. I can attest to this from personal experience.

I chose to come to the United States not only because of the professional opportunities it offered me as a researcher, but also because of its social values. I was drawn to America’s commitment to freedom of expression, its openness to self-criticism, and its willingness to confront uncomfortable truths. I admired an education system that encouraged debate and challenged entrenched ideas, and a society that, at its best, strives to address systemic problems such as racism, gender inequality, income disparity, and unequal access to resources.

For decades, this intellectual openness helped make the United States a magnet for global talent, not merely for economic advancement, but for the freedom to think, question, and innovate. That openness strengthened the country scientifically, economically, and culturally.

In recent years, however, immigration has become a highly polarized political issue. Immigrants are increasingly viewed with suspicion simply for being immigrants, regardless of their contributions or conduct. This approach is deeply counterproductive. No nation can attract, or retain, the world’s best talent if it makes people feel unwanted, distrusted, or targeted. Skilled individuals will either choose not to come at all or will leave as soon as the environment becomes hostile.

Political hatred, once unleashed, is notoriously difficult to control. Even when leaders claim they are targeting only a specific group, such rhetoric often spirals into broader hostility that engulfs entire communities. Polarization based on identity is a powerful political tool, but it is also profoundly destructive. It weakens social cohesion, corrodes democratic norms, and ultimately harms the very country it claims to protect. Like an autoimmune disease, it causes a society to turn against itself.

This brings me to an equally important point: holding elected office is also a privilege.

Just as immigration comes with responsibilities, so does public office. Being elected is not merely a position of power; it is a public trust. Elected officials are granted authority by the people and are accountable for how they use it. Exploiting fear, vulnerability, or legal status, especially of immigrants and minorities, for political gain is an abuse of that trust.

Immigrants are not outsiders who arrived unlawfully or accidentally. They come through rigorous and often exhausting legal processes. They work hard, pay taxes, raise families, and put down roots in the communities they choose to call home. If they are willing to contribute and play their part, it is only fair, and morally necessary, that those in power do not weaponize their vulnerability for political spectacle.

Immigration and elected office are both privileges. One should not be used to undermine human dignity, and the other should not be used to inflame fear or target the most vulnerable members of society. The strength of a nation is measured not by how it treats the powerful, but by how responsibly it governs and how humanely it treats those who seek to belong.

I hope we recognize this before the damage becomes irreversible.

Thank you for reading, and please share your views on this topic. 

© Vinay Thakur, All rights reserved. Vinay can be reached at thevinay2022@gmail.com

I Used to Ask How Genocides Happened—Now I Know

I used to wonder how genocides like the Holocaust could ever happen. I used to ask what kind of world, and what kind of leaders, would allow such crimes to unfold. I looked at the Armenian genocide, the Holocaust, the Bengal famine of 1943, the Rwandan genocide, and felt anger toward the leaders of that time, and toward the people who knew, yet remained silent. These were not hidden crimes. They happened with the full knowledge of world leaders, institutions, and societies. I believed that such moral collapse belonged to the past.

Now I know better. I am living in that same world.

Today, I feel the same anger, pity, and frustration, but this time directed at our own leaders and ourselves. I see how mass killing, especially of civilians, is once again being tolerated, justified, and rationalized. I used to wonder how people could stay silent, or worse, defend the killing of innocent people. Now I see exactly how it happens. Every civilian death is filtered through ideology, religious, political, or otherwise. Compassion is conditional. Outrage is selective. Humanity is negotiable.

If the violence is carried out by a government we support, or a leader we voted for, we find ways to minimize it, explain it away, or justify it. We use familiar language: orders were followed, national security required it, this is the price of safety. These are not new arguments. They are recycled excuses. The same moral evasions that once enabled the worst crimes in history are alive and well today, only more polished and more confidently expressed.

What is most disturbing is not just that civilians are being killed in the twenty-first century, but that this is happening openly, on camera, in real time, with the full awareness of elected leaders, global media, and millions of ordinary people. And yet, the death of a civilian is no longer treated as a humanitarian failure. It is debated as a policy choice. It is weighed, defended, dismissed, or weaponized depending on which “side” one belongs to.

Even tragedies that should unite us in grief are pulled into political combat. The suffering of parents who lost children has been mocked, denied, or turned into talking points, for example, look at what happened with the Sandy Hook incident. Human loss has become ideological currency.

How did we reach this point? Why did we learn nothing from history? Why do political loyalties so easily override compassion, empathy, and basic human decency?

I don’t have clear answers. What I see instead is a frightening trend: our tolerance for innocent death has increased. We have become more articulate, more strategic, and more ruthless in justifying violence carried out in our name. We no longer even pretend to feel guilt or shame. There is no acknowledgment of wrongdoing, only aggressive defense and the vilification of anyone who dares to question it. Dissent is treated as betrayal. Objection is framed as disloyalty. Protests are labeled as mutiny. 

It is moral decay, not strength. Every unnatural death has become political capital, used either to seize power or to protect it. This is not strength; it is moral decay. It is not strong leadership, but cruelty wrapped in political language and sold as a necessity. It is not national security when civilians pay the price; it is national shame. There is nothing great about justifying innocent deaths, nothing courageous about silencing dissent, and nothing patriotic about abandoning basic human conscience. What is presented as resolve is often cowardice, the fear of accountability disguised as power. A society that normalizes such violence does not become stronger; it becomes complicit.

This is not strong leadership. It is cruelty wrapped in political language, brutality justified by slogans, and violence laundered through ideology. Calling it national security does not make such violence honorable. Security that is built on the bodies of civilians is not security at all; it is a confession of failure. When the protection of the state requires the abandonment of humanity, what is being defended is not a nation, but power itself.

I once believed that the world would not repeat the worst mistakes of the past, that the mass killing of civilians under indifferent or brutal leadership was a lesson permanently learned. I was wrong. This world is fully capable of repeating the same horrors, with the same intensity, the same indifference, and the same justifications, and then moving on as if nothing happened.

That realization leaves me deeply saddened and profoundly disappointed. I still hold onto a fragile hope that somewhere, some country, some society will prove me wrong, not with words or statements, but with moral courage and actions. Until then, we are not better than the past we claim to condemn. 

Thank you for reading, and please share your views on this topic. 

© Vinay Thakur, All rights reserved. Vinay can be reached at thevinay2022@gmail.com 

This New Year, Renew Your Commitment to Unity

Another new year begins today, and I want to wish a very Happy New Year to all my readers!

May this year bring you fulfillment, joy, and the energy to pursue what truly matters, not just for your personal growth, but also for the betterment of the society in which you live and thrive. I hope you find time to engage in activities that nurture your passions and also make a positive difference in the lives of others.

Let us remember that each of us is an essential part of several circles of belonging: first, our family, then our neighborhood, our city, our state, our country, and ultimately, this shared universe. No matter how small they may seem, our actions matter. Each of us has the power to create a ripple of positive change wherever we are.

Sadly, there are always some who choose to spread hate, fear, and division. Let’s make a conscious choice not to become one of them. What our world needs today is more people who can spread love, compassion, confidence, and kindness, because that is what true bravery looks like.

Those who seek to terrorize, divide, or instill fear in others are not brave; they are cowards who exploit fear to control fragmented societies and avoid accountability.

As we step into this new year, let us take a pledge:
Refuse to fall for divisive propaganda, no matter which political party or ideology it comes from.
Stay united and stay strong.

A polarized society only serves those who wish to avoid scrutiny and responsibility. Division benefits the few selfish people who act as if they care, but they really don't; unity empowers the many.

Let’s begin this year with renewed hope, empathy, and courage to speak up for what is right, to bridge divides, and to build communities grounded in trust and respect.

Once again, Happy New Year!
May 2026 be a year of clarity, compassion, and collective strength.

In Search of Love

Love and hate are universal emotions found across the animal kingdom. Their expressions may differ from species to species, but both emotions are deeply ingrained in the fabric of life. Humans are no exception. Yet, despite all our intellect and progress, humanity has never mastered the art of finding love.

Over time, we have tried to channel this powerful emotion through institutions like family and marriage, constructs designed to give love a stable, socially acceptable form. But while these structures can provide companionship or social order, they do not guarantee love. At best, they offer the security of togetherness; at worst, they create emotional prisons where people cohabit without affection or understanding. There are countless homes where people live under the same roof but remain emotionally estranged. This is why people continue to search for love, even while seemingly having everything that society says they should.

Why does love remain so elusive? Why can’t we always find it within our families or marriages? The answer often lies in the absence of gratitude, compassion, and respect, the very essence of love. Ironically, people who live closest to one another can be the most hurtful. They see each other’s best and worst moments, but often fixate on the flaws. Over time, empathy fades, and emotional manipulation replaces care. When one partner becomes the constant target of control or neglect, any affection that remains is not love; it’s emotional conditioning, sometimes resembling Stockholm syndrome.

Love cannot be manufactured by rituals or sustained by duty. It flourishes only where people genuinely care, respect, and try to understand each other. Yet our societies measure relationships not by emotional depth but by adherence to tradition and its length. Those who do not conform, people who choose to live single, pursue unconventional partnerships, or reject societal templates, are often judged as incomplete or abnormal. Their happiness is questioned simply because it doesn’t fit within the accepted framework of family or marriage.

Although modern societies are slowly opening up to nontraditional relationships such as live-in partnerships, the pressure to conform to conventional routes remains immense. People continue to marry not always out of love, but out of fear, fear of judgment, loneliness, or social rejection. And so, even within these well-defined systems, the search for love goes on.

True love is rooted in compassion, gratitude, and respect; it cannot be institutionalized. It cannot be bought, forced, or guaranteed by law. It must be nurtured freely, beyond the boundaries of tradition and expectation. Until we learn to value love for its essence rather than its form, humanity’s search for it will never end. 

Thank you for reading. Please share your views on this topic. 

© Vinay Thakur, All rights reserved. Vinay can be reached at thevinay2022@gmail.com

From Playfields to Battlefields: The Death of Sportsmanship

Sports have been an integral part of human civilization for centuries. It is an expression of strength, spirit, and unity. From the ancient Olympics to modern-day tournaments, sports have transcended borders and ideologies, bringing people together through shared passion. Even today, teams command cult-like followings, and rivalries, whether between schools, clubs, or nations, ignite intense emotions. Yet, when the whistle blows, and the final score is called, tradition demands one thing above all: respect.

A handshake at the end of a match, whether between boxers, wrestlers, or cricketers, symbolizes that the competition was in the spirit of the game, not a personal battle. That simple gesture reminds us that sport is not war, that winning and losing are temporary, but dignity and respect endure. 

At the same time, there are many dignified ways for athletes to express dissent or solidarity without compromising the spirit of the game or disrespecting opponents. History offers numerous examples like players taking a knee to protest racial injustice, wearing black armbands or colored ribbons to honor victims of violence or disease, or making symbolic gestures that draw attention to humanitarian causes. Such acts do not target rival teams or nations; instead, they use the visibility of sport to promote awareness and compassion. These moments remind us that athletes can be both competitors and conscience-bearers, capable of challenging injustice while still upholding respect, discipline, and fairness on the field.

Sadly, that line has begun to blur.

The recent India-Pakistan cricket controversy is a troubling reminder. Reports that Indian players refused to shake hands with their Pakistani counterparts and refused to accept the winner’s trophy from a Pakistani official reflect a disturbing trend, the politicization of sport. What should have been a celebration of skill turned into a performance of political symbolism. Commentators and social media voices, including the Prime Minister of India, went further, comparing India’s cricket victory to a military triumph, reducing the sacrifices of soldiers and victims of terrorism to the level of a game score.

This is where the spirit of sportsmanship dies.

If sports become extensions of political agendas, they cease to be sports. Players become pawns in a nationalistic spectacle where rivalry replaces respect. When we equate a game to war, we cheapen both—the discipline of the athlete and the sacrifice of the soldier. Even in actual warfare, military personnel are trained to respect their adversaries, dead or alive. Shouldn’t athletes, who represent the best of human discipline and grace, be held to at least that standard?

If a nation feels so strongly against playing another for political or moral reasons, the dignified course is simple: boycott the match altogether. Decline to participate rather than demean opponents who, like our own players, are ambassadors of their nation, not its politicians or generals. To show disrespect on the field is to insult the very principles of sportsmanship we claim to uphold.

Imagine if the roles were reversed, if Pakistan had won and celebrated it as a “victory” over India in warlike terms. Wouldn’t the outrage be swift and loud, condemning it as immature, provocative, and offensive? Then why do we excuse the same when it comes from our side?

Sport is meant to unite and inspire, not to divide and demean. The field, court, or pitch should never become a stage for political theater. True maturity lies not in shouting louder than your rival, but in walking off the field with grace, whether you win or lose.

If we continue down this path, where sports become war and war becomes sport, then both will lose their meaning. The cheers in the stadium will echo hollow, not with pride, but with propaganda.

Let’s bring back the handshake. The spirit. The respect. Because if that’s lost, then no victory will ever be worth celebrating.

Thank you for reading. Please share your views on this topic. 

© Vinay Thakur, All rights reserved. Vinay can be reached at thevinay2022@gmail.com

Politics and Violence: A Marriage of Convenience

In today’s world, politics and violence are no longer separate ideas. If you look closely at the rhetoric of modern politics, across countries and parties, you will see that hate and aggression are woven into nearly every radical populist political movement. Violence is no longer confined to unstable or developing nations with ethnic conflicts; it has become a global political currency.

Why? Because hate and polarization deliver tremendous dividends. They guarantee long-term power without the burden of accountability. This is why almost every government or political party is tempted to use this method either to win an election or stay in power without doing any public good. A divided society does not ask its leaders for jobs, education, or healthcare. Instead, it demands revenge. Citizens begin to rejoice not in their own well-being, but in the suffering of their opponents. This is the enduring “divide and rule” strategy: fear and hate for those who look different, pray differently, or think differently. It is one of the oldest tricks in politics, and in the age of social media, it has become more potent than ever.

You may ask: aren’t people smart enough to recognize when they are being manipulated? You wish. In the age of social media algorithms, echo chambers have become impenetrable. People are now fed only what they already believe. Rarely do they challenge their views; instead, they consume one reel, one meme, one outrage post at a time until bigotry feels like truth.

This brainwashing has consequences. Racism, sexism, misogyny, and xenophobia are dressed up as nationalism, populism, or patriotism. The freedom of expression is invoked to defend hateful propaganda, but when others use the same freedom to dissent, they are silenced or branded as traitors. Even parties that claim to champion freedom of speech remain silent when their opponents are silenced through government force or intimidation, such is the blinding effect of the lust for power. What we see is not freedom, it is propaganda masquerading as liberty. The echo chambers of hate are not only created by powerful algorithms, but they are actively reinforced by the tactful monitoring of human behavior and tacit approval from all parties who benefit from it. 

The tragedy deepens when governments themselves deploy propaganda. When hate becomes a policy, instead of debating ideas for the public good, politicians weaponize communities against one another to mask their own failures and corruption. We see working-class citizens cheering for tax cuts for billionaires, believing that the “enemy within” is to blame for their struggles.

Take immigration. It is a serious problem that requires solutions, but instead of policy, politicians fuel hatred against entire communities. The result? Citizens are fighting among themselves while those in power escape scrutiny. In this system, every death becomes political capital, not a human tragedy. Citizens are not valued as members of society but used as political weapons, activated, manipulated, and discarded.

History is full of examples: empires, kings, colonizers, and dictators have always relied on hate and violence as tools of control. What is alarming today is that even democratically elected governments are adopting the same playbook, ruling less like representatives of the people and more like autocrats. And disturbingly, citizens are not just tolerating it; they are cheering it on. Many celebrate the erosion of fundamental rights when it happens to their opponents, convinced that it will never touch them. But when genocides are glorified as heroics and propaganda is consumed as fact, society loses its moral compass. Bigotry may start as an opinion, but repeated often enough, it calcifies into “truth.” Once that “truth” is amplified by media and algorithms, propaganda doesn’t just shape the news, it becomes the news.

The saddest reality is this: we, the people, are allowing it to happen. Our silence, our complicity, and our willingness to stay in our comfort zones enable this cycle. It does not have to be this way. Politics need not be synonymous with violence and hate. Our political opponents are not enemies of the state. We can reject this toxic model. We can choose love, compassion, constructive criticism, and accountability as the foundation of politics.

The power of hate is immense, but so is the power of humanity. History shows that hate divides, but love unites. The choice is before us. The question is: will we wake up in time?

Thank you for reading. Please share your views on this topic. 

© Vinay Thakur, All rights reserved. Vinay can be reached at thevinay2022@gmail.com

Comfort in Commonality

Humans are social creatures who thrive in groups. Social acceptance and recognition are fundamental to us, and this is how cultures, religions, and societies have evolved. Most of us naturally conform to social and cultural norms, which influence many of our personal and professional decisions. From the clothes we wear, the religion we follow, and the gods we worship, to whom we marry, how we perceive life and death, what we teach our kids, and the careers we pursue, these choices are often dictated less by individual preference and more by the collective script of society. The influence is so pervasive that we may not even realize how deeply these norms shape us. And yet, we follow them for one simple reason: there is comfort in commonality. Doing what those around us have done for generations brings a sense of security, even if those norms once supported harmful and unethical practices like slavery, racism, casteism, or gender discrimination. Many of these injustices were normalized simply because they were universally practiced. Even today, traces of such practices linger in various forms, despite being outlawed and widely condemned, just because of comfort in commonality; when everyone does it, it cannot be wrong. There is strength in mass bigotry. When prejudice or discrimination is shared by the majority, it gains a dangerous legitimacy that makes it harder for individuals to challenge. What is morally wrong becomes socially acceptable simply because it is collectively endorsed.

Why do we find so much reassurance in conforming to societal expectations? Why is it so difficult to step outside them, even when they seem trivial or irrational? From personal experience, I know how hard it is to resist deeply rooted and outdated cultural and social norms. When you choose a different path, people not only question your decision, but there is a potential risk that you might get excluded from social circles. One could argue that if you reject the rules, you shouldn’t want to be part of the group upholding them. But the issue is not always about the rituals or beliefs; it’s about human connection. I often find myself attending social or religious gatherings, not for the rituals but for the people. Yet, this nuance is rarely understood. Some communities view skepticism toward their values as a threat, making genuine inclusion difficult. It is rare to find a group that embraces you fully without demanding conformity. The tension always looms when you are in a minority that has rejected outdated rituals and values after much reflection, and sometimes this means grappling with this tension indefinitely.

The comfort of commonality extends beyond religion and culture into nearly every stage of life. Society offers a pre-written roadmap: go to school, excel academically, attend a prestigious college and again axcel there, pick one of the “hot” careers that promises a big paycheck, marry by a certain age, buy a house, take yearly vacations, have children before you’re “too old,” avoid divorce at any cost, and pass on the same “values” to your kids. This script removes uncertainty; you don’t have to question your choices because the path has already been laid out. This is a pretested prescription, and the reward for following it is a predictable lifestyle and a support system. Deviating from this plan, on the other hand, is intimidating. The road is unmarked, often lonely, and rarely comes with guidance. I have personally felt lost at times, with no example to follow or mentor to seek advice from. Even in parenting, there was no clear model for me to adopt. As parents, Reena and I carved out our own approach, with many mistakes along the way, and our children shared that uncertainty. Still, I hope that through this process, they learned something more valuable than what a conventional path could provide.

In the end, comfort in commonality comes with undeniable benefits: stability, security, and belonging. But there is another way. It may not offer the same perks, and it may come with rejection and risk, but it leads to a life that feels authentic rather than scripted. Choosing this path often requires rejecting the expectations around careers, family timelines, or rituals you never believed in. It demands courage to create your own roadmap, at your own pace, guided not by others’ approval but by your own convictions. It is a harder choice, but it is still a choice. And for some of us, it is the only choice worth making.

Thank you for reading, and please share your views on this topic. 

© Vinay Thakur, All rights reserved. Vinay can be reached at thevinay2022@gmail.com

Learning From Our children

As parents, we often see ourselves as teachers, guiding our children through life with the knowledge and wisdom we’ve gathered over the years. And while that responsibility is real, it’s only half the story. The truth is, our children have just as much to teach us if we’re willing to pause, listen, and learn.

Most of us grew up in a very different world. The environment, the values, and the social norms of our era shaped how we think, behave, and judge right from wrong. But the world isn’t static. It evolves constantly, sometimes slowly over generations, and other times so rapidly that a few short years bring transformative change. As parents, it’s worth asking ourselves: are we preparing our children for the world as it is, or for a world that only exists in our memories?

This is where our children become our teachers.

I can speak from personal experience about the power of listening to my kids. My kids have taught me more than I could have imagined. Sometimes their words have challenged long-held beliefs, other times they’ve helped me evolve in ways I never thought possible. And none of it would have happened had I not chosen to listen.

Listening doesn’t mean agreeing blindly. In our home, discussions often turn into intense debates. My kids don’t hold back, and they attack weak arguments with full force. At times, the exchanges get heated. But when the dust settles, I walk away with plenty to reflect upon. I believe they do the same.

Through these conversations, my perspectives have shifted on issues like mental health, gender, feminism, racism, and much more. If I had dismissed their views simply because they are younger, I would have missed invaluable lessons.

It’s a mistake to believe that a child’s silence is a sign of respect. Somehow, in many cultures, including Indian culture, not speaking in front of elders, especially not questioning or arguing with them, is considered a sign of respect, and doing otherwise is considered a sign of disrespect or arrogance. More often, silence signals fear, or worse, the belief that engaging with you is pointless. That silence doesn’t build love or trust; it builds walls and resentment.

As parents, it’s our job to initiate meaningful conversations and to create a space where children feel safe enough to challenge us. If they can debate with friends or teachers but remain silent at home, we’re not raising honest communicators; we’re raising hypocrites. And the world already has enough of those.

Values are important, but no value is immune to becoming outdated. Outdated values need updating. What worked decades ago may not serve our children in the present, or prepare them for the future, no matter which book, religion, or prophet has said those words, values, and beliefs get outdated, and they need constant updates. By listening to our kids, we gain access to fresh perspectives that can refine, update, or even replace the values we once held tightly.

Our children are not blank slates waiting to be filled; they are thinking, questioning, evolving individuals with a lot to say. If we give them patience, attention, and the respect they deserve, they can teach us how to grow alongside them.

So don’t close the door on learning just because you’re the parent. Keep the conversations open, even when they’re uncomfortable. Challenge them and let them challenge you. In doing so, you’ll not only raise responsible, empathetic citizens, but you’ll also become a better version of yourself. Remember, as parents, it is our job to initiate the discussion, we need the learning, and we must be proactive to initiate this process. 

Learning from your kids is free. And it will transform your relationship with them, for good. 

Thank you for reading, and please share your views on this topic. 

© Vinay Thakur, All rights reserved. Vinay can be reached at thevinay2022@gmail.com