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.