a work in progress

The Overachiever. Or is it AKA The Indian Girl?

For the longest time, we brought marks in the 90% range.
To be asked, where is the remaining 10%.

We were told that our mothers rolled 100 rotis and then walked to school.
So we wondered, why we couldn’t.

For the longest time, we saved our virginity.
We excelled and did PhD’s in subjects we weren’t passionate about.

Oh, we were incredible.
We did dancing too you know.
For years, even when we hated it.
Because swimming and folding clothes weren’t enough.

And we earnt hella good.
And when we had babies, we breastfed.
We cooked organic, fresh food.
Our houses so tidy and clean.
Dishes done every night.
Fresh porridge every morning.

We attended community functions.
Donned our saris and our bindis.
Namaste aunty-ji.
Pranam uncle-ji.

We were the pleasers.

The pleasers.
In each of us, there might not be all of these things, but oh honey, I assure you, there are most. You got the 90%.

There is something they didn’t tell you about pleasing.
About achieving.

Everything has it’s price.

So my sweet, sweet friend.
What was your price?

Was it that arts degree you never did?
Was it that man you loved, but you let him go?
Was it the rest you needed from your child to love him more?
Was it that time you could have defended your friend, but you didn’t, and aunty-ji got the better of the both of you?
Was it that blame you put on your husband for supposedly dragging you through it all, when really, you never had the courage to just. Say. No.
Was it those days of playing gilli-danda till sunset that you never got?
Was it the marriage that failed you and you stayed in it? Stayed compromising in it?
Was it those stories you never had the courage to write because you had to study that physics chart?
Was it that child you couldn’t leave for a weekend to attend floristry workshop you wanted to go to?
Was it that music you never jammed to, least you got caught?

Because we never got told that excellence has it’s price.
We simply got told it was the destination.

This has to change.
It starts with you.
For your children.

For our daughters.
May they never be over achievers.
May they never be people pleasers.
May they never compromise for the wrong reasons.

May they seek their happiness.
May they trust their truth.
May they live their life to the beat of their soul.

Their own soul.
Not your soul.
Not Papa’s soul
Not society’s soul.
Not their husband’s soul.
Not their in-law’s soul.
Not their child’s soul.
Their own soul.

The beat of her own soul.
May she dance to the beat of her own soul.




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  1. Darshna Kasabia

    Thank you for some much needed perspective, because I am guilty of doing almost all of the above ! You have a way with words that gently reminds me to do what makes me happy and that life is a journey to enjoy not a rat race.

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