Education is Domestication (aka Castration)

Section 1: What You Call Education Is Not Learning

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1.1 What is ‘Education’ Today?

When most people say “education,” they don’t mean curiosity, wisdom, or skills.

They mean sitting in a classroom for years, memorising textbook content, passing exams, collecting certificates, and then searching for jobs.

This is not real learning.

It is training.

Like how animals are trained to perform tricks.

Children as young as 3 are pushed into school. From then on, they are expected to sit quietly for hours, not ask questions, and follow orders. They are told what to think, how to behave, and when to speak.

By the time they reach teenage years, most of them:

Have stopped asking big questions

Are afraid to make mistakes

Depend completely on teachers and textbooks

Judge their worth based on marks or grades

Have lost touch with their natural interests

They have become domesticated — useful to systems, but disconnected from themselves.

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1.2 Difference Between Learning and Education

Let’s be clear.

Learning is something that happens naturally.

Education is something that is forced.

Learning is what you do when you are curious — when you explore, when you fail, when you improve by doing something repeatedly. Learning happens while fixing a motor, cooking with a grandparent, helping in a farm, raising a child, solving a real problem.

Education, on the other hand, is usually a fixed path laid down by institutions. It means completing a syllabus, attending class, doing homework, writing tests, getting a certificate — whether or not you understood or enjoyed any of it.

Learning builds a person.

Education builds a product.

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1.3 Why This Matters Today More Than Ever

Today, many highly educated people:

Don’t know how to grow food

Can’t fix basic things in their house

Depend on Google for every small question

Fear being without a job, even for a month

Don’t know how to raise children without shouting

Are unable to sit still without a screen in front of them

They are always preparing for a future, but never living in the present.

They are reading books, but don’t know how to live their own life.

They speak in English, but don’t know their mother tongue deeply.

They may be earning well, but are mentally tired, physically weak, and emotionally disconnected.

This is the result of mistaking education for learning.

You were not born to be domesticated.

You were born to explore, create, and live fully.

That spark is still inside you — but education has buried it under rules, fear, and certificates.

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Section 2: The Purpose of Modern Education – Control, Not Freedom

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2.1 Education Is Not for Your Freedom — It Is for Obedience

The real purpose of modern education is not to make you free.

It is to make you obey without question.

From the beginning, you are trained to:

Sit when told

Speak only when allowed

Repeat what the teacher says

Memorise without understanding

Fear failure more than ignorance

Please authorities even when they are wrong

This kind of training does not produce thinkers.

It produces people who follow orders.

Even creativity is restricted to within the syllabus.

Even questions are only allowed if they follow the lesson plan.

Even silence is judged — not as reflection, but as disobedience.

You are not allowed to be wild, confused, emotional, or curious for too long.

You must become manageable.

And the more educated you are, the more obedient you become — to rules, to jobs, to bosses, to the system.

This is not an accident. It is the design.

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2.2 Education Sorts People Into Classes — Not Lifts Them Up

They say education removes inequality.

But in reality, it creates deeper ones.

It gives you labels:

First ranker

Last ranker

Weak in maths

Good in English

Fail

Topper

These labels follow you all your life.

Even your family, relatives, and neighbours repeat them.

It does not matter how kind you are, or how skilled, or how hardworking —

If your marks are low, society treats you as a failure.

And if you perform well, you are pushed harder, trapped in expectations, and used to make others feel small.

Instead of bringing people together, education becomes a system of comparison and competition.

Everyone is trying to be better than someone else.

No one is at peace.

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2.3 Education Funnels You Into Jobs — Not Into Life

Most schooling is not designed to help you discover your interest or serve your community.

It is designed to make you useful to companies and institutions.

From the beginning, your goal is shaped as:

Study well → Get degree → Get job → Get salary → Retire

No one asks:

What do you love doing with your hands?

What problems in your village would you like to solve?

What can you build, fix, grow, or heal?

Instead, education prepares you to become a "professional" — someone who can wear a badge, follow policies, and work under deadlines.

You become part of the machine.

A replaceable part.

Even if you hate your job, even if it makes you sick, you are told:

“At least you are earning.”

That is not freedom. That is slavery dressed in formals.

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Summary of Section 2:

Modern education is not about lighting a fire in your heart.

It is about trimming you to fit into someone else’s mould.

It is about removing your sharpness so you don’t cut the system.

It is about keeping you useful, but never free.

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Section 3: Domestication Explained – From Wild to Tame to Useless

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3.1 The Wild Mind — What We Are Born With

Every child is born wild in the best sense —

Curious about everything

Excited by small things

Willing to try, fall, and try again

Open to beauty, danger, silence, and truth

Not afraid of failure, not obsessed with approval

They ask real questions:

“Why is the sky blue?”

“Where did the dead ant go?”

“Why do we go to school?”

“Why can’t I touch that flower?”

This is not foolishness.

This is original intelligence — raw, alive, and grounded in experience.

Left to themselves in a healthy, respectful environment, children would learn everything they need to survive, grow, and even contribute to the world.

But most of us were not left free.

We were domesticated.

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3.2 How School Tames the Wild

School begins the slow process of taming.

Step by step, it teaches the child:

Don’t trust your own curiosity

Don’t ask too many questions

Don’t play unless we say it’s play time

Don’t make noise unless we tell you to

Don’t learn unless we give you permission

It replaces experience with instruction.

It replaces wonder with routine.

It replaces freedom with fear of failure.

Soon, the child learns:

To wait for approval before acting

To suppress their natural talents if not rewarded by marks

To say what the teacher wants, not what they feel

To fear being different, slow, or too honest

The child becomes easier to manage — but loses something vital in the process.

That’s domestication.

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3.3 Castration as a Metaphor — The Loss of Inner Fire

Why use the word “castration”?

Because the effect of education is not just external.

It kills the inner sharpness.

A castrated animal loses its instinct to fight, roam, or claim its own path.

It becomes calm, predictable, obedient.

That’s what happens in over-educated humans too.

They lose:

The courage to question deeply

The risk to try something real

The confidence to build without asking for permission

The fire to walk a different path even if alone

They become mild, trained, and scared of making a scene.

You can see this in educated people:

Always checking what others will think

Always needing a certificate before calling themselves “capable”

Always blaming systems but never stepping out

Always reading more but doing less

Their mind is full, but their life is hollow.

That’s not intelligence. That’s institutional damage.

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Summary of Section 3:

The wild child inside you — the one who wanted to touch the stars and roll in the mud —

was not wrong.

But it was too real for this system.

So they trimmed it. Tamed it. Silenced it.

And called it "education."

But even now, you can remember who you were before you were told what to be.

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Section 4: Signs That Education Has Failed You

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4.1 You Can’t Do Anything Practical

You may have a degree.

You may speak English well.

You may know how to write an essay or make a PowerPoint.

But ask yourself honestly:

Can you grow a vegetable?

Can you cook a full meal from scratch?

Can you build a small shelter if needed?

Can you care for a sick person without rushing to a hospital?

Can you fix a broken tool or sew a torn shirt?

If your answer is mostly “no,” then education has failed you.

Because education is supposed to prepare you for life — not just for exams or interviews.

You’ve studied 15 to 20 years and still need to call someone else to do even basic things.

You have theory in your head but no power in your hands.

That’s a sign of failure — not yours, but the system’s.

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4.2 You Hate Mornings, Work, and Life

Most people who are “well-educated” live tired lives.

They hate Mondays. They hate alarms. They hate routines.

They are always waiting for the weekend, for a holiday, for retirement.

This is not laziness — it is exhaustion.

A deep boredom from living a life you didn’t choose.

You may be earning, but you are not growing.

You may be working, but your soul is not involved.

You live in fear:

Fear of losing your job

Fear of being left behind

Fear of not being “successful enough”

Fear of making a mistake

You weren’t educated to enjoy life.

You were trained to survive it.

That’s not learning — that’s domestication.

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4.3 You Constantly Compare Yourself to Others

You always feel someone is doing better.

Someone earns more, speaks better, dresses better, lives in a bigger city, has more degrees.

You are unable to see your own worth.

You only see how you’re not like others.

Where did this begin?

In school — where you were ranked, compared, and judged every single day.

You were told that marks equal intelligence, success, and value.

Even now, you seek approval.

From bosses, relatives, friends, even strangers online.

This hunger for external validation is a wound created by education.

It makes you chase approval, not truth.

It makes you live a fake life, just to “look” successful.

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4.4 You Are Afraid of Failing or Looking Foolish

Ask someone to:

Try a new skill

Start a small business

Speak their honest thoughts

Move to a new place

Work with hands

And most people will say: “What if I fail?”

This fear is taught.

In school, failure was punished.

Mistakes were laughed at.

Slow learners were shamed.

Creative students were told to be quiet.

So now, even as adults, most people:

Stick to safe jobs

Avoid risk

Never build anything new

Wait for permission or certificates

Hide their true ideas and dreams

A real education teaches you how to fall, get up, and try again.

But most formal education teaches you to avoid falling at all costs.

That’s why most people are stuck in one place for years — mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.

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Summary of Section 4:

If you cannot face life with confidence…

If you cannot enjoy your own work…

If you cannot express yourself freely…

If you feel trapped, small, or fake…

Then education didn’t serve you. It tamed you.

But it’s not too late to wake up.

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Section 5: Limits of Education – When to Stop

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5.1 Basic Literacy Is Enough

You need to know how to:

Read

Write

Do simple maths

Understand and speak clearly

Think for yourself

That’s it.

This level of learning can be achieved by the age of 10 or 12.

Once you reach this stage, the rest should depend on interest, not pressure.

Not everyone needs to study history or trigonometry or grammar rules for years.

Not everyone needs a degree.

After this point, most people are simply sitting in school or college because they’re told to.

Not because they are learning something that changes their life.

This wastes years, kills interest, and breaks confidence.

You can stop early, if you want.

That doesn’t make you a dropout — that makes you free.

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5.2 Schooling Should Not Cross Age 14

By 14, a child should be:

Aware of basic life knowledge

Able to speak, read, and write well

Able to use numbers for daily life

Curious about their surroundings

Ready to explore interests through doing

This is the perfect age to shift focus to:

Real-world work

Hands-on learning

Observing nature and society

Apprenticing with skilled elders

Developing talents through action

But instead, children are kept locked in classrooms.

They’re pushed to memorise subjects they don’t care about, just to pass exams they won’t remember.

They’re kept away from farming, family life, social service, and inner discovery.

What starts as learning becomes imprisonment.

The longer you stay, the harder it becomes to leave.

You lose your natural direction and become addicted to approval, structure, and dependence.

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5.3 Stop When You Start Feeling Numb

Many people keep studying even when they hate it.

They say:

“I don’t like it, but I need a degree.”

“I don’t enjoy this, but I’ll figure it out later.”

“I’m bored, but what else can I do?”

This is not discipline. This is damage.

If you’re just attending class for the sake of marks,

If you’re just collecting certificates without joy or purpose,

If you’re starting to lose your hunger for life,

That’s the time to stop.

No certificate is worth losing your aliveness.

You can return to learning anytime — when the interest comes back.

But don’t force-feed yourself dead knowledge.

You don’t need permission to stop.

You need courage.

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Summary of Section 5:

Education has its place — but that place is small.

Beyond that, it becomes a trap.

Know when to stop.

Know when to walk away.

Know when to learn from life again.

No exam will ever teach you what your own heart is trying to say.

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Section 6: What to Do Instead – Self-Directed Growth

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6.1 Follow Real Curiosity, Not Syllabus

Ask yourself:

What do I keep thinking about even when I’m alone?

What type of work makes me forget time?

What kind of problems do I enjoy solving?

What am I naturally drawn to, even if I’m not perfect at it?

This is where real learning starts.

Not from a textbook. Not from a teacher’s timetable.

But from your own deep inner hunger to explore.

Forget what the world says is “useful.”

Start with what is honest.

That’s where your energy lives.

That’s where your mind comes alive.

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6.2 Learn By Doing, Not Just Reading

The best way to grow is not through lectures or courses.

It is by doing real things in real life.

Some examples:

Volunteer at a farm — learn how food grows, how soil breathes

Help a local healer — observe how sickness and health work

Assist a carpenter, potter, or weaver — feel how hands create

Spend time with old people — learn how to live and die with grace

Teach children in a poor school — discover how people learn

Build something from scratch — a tool, a chair, a kitchen, a garden bed

In doing, you’ll learn what books cannot teach:

Patience

Strength

Mistakes

Balance

Care

Doing wakes up parts of you that education put to sleep.

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6.3 Build Skills That Serve Others

Don’t just chase money.

Don’t just collect hobbies.

Build skills that actually help the people around you.

For example:

Cooking healthy meals

Making natural soaps or oils

Building toilets or simple homes

Repairing tools or bicycles

Helping with childbirth or elder care

Managing small local events

Translating between generations

Teaching without textbooks

Listening deeply to people’s stories

These are not “low” skills.

These are the skills that keep families and villages alive.

And they are disappearing — because educated people think they are “too smart” to learn them.

Learn them anyway.

Your usefulness is your strength.

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6.4 Create Your Own Curriculum

You don’t need a school to plan your learning.

Make your own path.

Start simple:

What do I want to be able to do in 3 months?

What skill can I develop in 1 year that will make me more independent?

What kind of person do I want to become in 5 years — not just in career, but in character?

Then make a rough plan:

Find one mentor, offline or online

Practice daily or weekly

Document what you learn

Share with others — teach or demonstrate

Stay open to change

Instead of: “Read a book on how to build a mud house,”

Go and actually build one with help.

That’s real education.

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Summary of Section 6:

Real growth begins the moment you stop waiting for permission.

When you start learning because you care.

When you start building because you believe.

You don’t need a classroom.

You need a cause.

And the world is full of them.

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Section 7: Examples of People Who Quit Early and Thrived

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7.1 People Who Walked Out of the System and Built Real Lives

Not everyone who leaves school early becomes poor, lost, or lazy.

Some of the most grounded, useful, and respected people in society never followed the official path.

Here are some real types of people—not celebrities, but strong humans—who chose their own road:

1. A village mechanic who never finished Class 6

He can fix any vehicle in the area.

Farmers, families, school buses—everyone depends on him.

He earns well, works with pride, and teaches others for free.

2. A woman who left college and became a healer

She learned from her grandmother how to use herbs and oils.

Now people come to her for everything—from fevers to fertility.

She makes her own medicines and also teaches girls about cycles and body care.

3. A boy who never liked school, but became a local builder

At 14, he joined a team building eco-homes.

Now he’s 25 and designs low-cost, beautiful houses using mud and bamboo.

He hires people who failed in school and trains them in his methods.

4. A dropout turned goat farmer

He knew nothing about animals at first.

But he started with two goats, learned by trial and error, and now runs a healthy, ethical goat farm.

His kids study at home and help him.

5. A girl who stopped studying after Class 7 and began teaching

She taught neighbourhood children with songs, stories, and games.

No certificates. Just clarity.

Now she runs a learning space for over 40 kids — and they love her.

None of these people asked for society’s approval.

They asked only one question: “How can I serve with what I know and love?”

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7.2 People Who Rejected School But Kept Learning for Life

Quitting school doesn’t mean quitting learning.

It means learning differently — through curiosity, effort, and freedom.

Here are some patterns you’ll see in self-learners:

They read when they are interested, not when they are forced

They learn from mistakes, not just from advice

They spend time with people of all ages, not just classmates

They learn across fields — farming, music, carpentry, technology, storytelling, healing

They stay humble because they don’t have a paper to prove anything

They don’t chase approval — they chase growth

Some of them travel across villages to learn lost skills.

Some of them document folk wisdom from elders.

Some of them work for food, just to learn a trade.

Some of them start local projects, run kitchens, repair tools, or design simple websites for others.

These are not “wasted lives.”

These are full, living minds.

You may not see them on TV.

But if you walk into your own village or town with open eyes, you’ll find them.

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Summary of Section 7:

Real success is not found in degrees or job titles.

It is found in the ability to live, serve, grow, and stay rooted.

There is no shame in leaving school.

The real shame is leaving behind your hunger to learn.

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Section 8: The Damage You Avoid by Stopping Early

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8.1 You Avoid Lifelong Debt and Pointless Pressure

Many people study for years just to get a degree.

In the process, they:

Spend lakhs on fees

Borrow money for coaching, hostel, and books

Burn out with competitive exams

Delay earning and real contribution by 5–10 years

End up doing jobs unrelated to what they studied

This debt isn’t just about money.

It’s mental and emotional debt — always chasing approval, never feeling enough.

By stepping away early, you avoid this trap.

You start learning by doing.

You begin earning or serving in small ways from a young age.

You grow into your work, instead of collapsing under the weight of expectations.

You don’t lose 10 years just to be called “qualified.”

You earn your self-worth through life.

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8.2 You Protect Your Mental Health and Identity

Most college students today are not happy.

They are anxious, confused, lonely, and tired.

They are often disconnected from their body, nature, and reality.

Why?

Because they are chasing something that doesn’t speak to their soul.

They are:

Memorising content they don’t believe in

Surrounded by competition and performance pressure

Hiding their real interests out of fear of being judged

Living in cities, away from land, trees, and elders

Suppressing their emotions just to survive the academic race

By leaving early, you avoid this slow mental breakdown.

You remain connected to who you are.

You don’t have to wear a mask for years.

You don’t lose yourself just to fit in.

That’s mental freedom.

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8.3 You Build Real Friendships and Real Skills

In the mainstream system, friendships are based on similarity:

Same age

Same class

Same marks

Same goals

But outside the system, friendships form differently:

Based on shared values

Based on collaboration, not competition

Based on deep honesty

Based on actual time spent working and living together

You meet elders, children, workers, artists, farmers, healers.

You grow across generations.

And the skills you build are not shallow or forgotten.

They stay with you because they’re useful.

You don’t have to keep revising a “syllabus” —

You keep using what you learn.

That’s the education that sticks.

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Summary of Section 8:

By stopping early, you don’t fall behind.

You simply leave the race.

You protect your time, mind, and energy.

You stay close to real people, real needs, and real knowledge.

You don’t become empty inside with a degree outside.

You grow from the inside out.

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Section 9: Reclaiming Education – Not Institutional, But Personal

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9.1 Learning Happens Best When You Are Curious, Not Forced

Real learning begins when:

You want to know

You enjoy the process

You see value in what you're learning

In institutional education, learning is pushed from outside.

In personal education, it pulls from within.

Example:

A boy forced to study geography forgets everything after exams.

A girl who loves birds starts learning maps, seasons, migration routes — because she cares.

This kind of learning never needs exams. It’s natural, lifelong, and alive.

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9.2 The World Is a Better Teacher Than the Classroom

Some things cannot be taught in a classroom:

How to speak to elders

How to plant and grow food

How to heal someone

How to fix something with your hands

How to handle failure

How to support a friend

These things are caught, not taught.

You catch them by being with people, by living fully.

A classroom gives you theory.

The world gives you truth.

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9.3 The New Curriculum: Based on Real Life

You don’t need a formal syllabus to grow.

You need real-life questions and problems. For example:

“How can I repair this broken chair?” → Learn tools, wood, angles, patience

“How can I teach this child to read?” → Learn letters, empathy, methods

“How can I cook for 20 people?” → Learn planning, maths, nutrition, calmness

“How can I make compost?” → Learn biology, observation, climate, cycles

This is education through living.

It gives you depth, not just surface knowledge.

It grows with you.

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9.4 Self-Education: A Life Practice, Not a Phase

Learning doesn't end at age 16, 18, or 21.

But it also doesn't need certificates to continue.

You can learn all your life:

By reading what you love

By helping others and learning through doing

By making mistakes and learning from them

By working with elders, artisans, healers, farmers

By starting small projects and watching them grow

This is not rebellion.

This is recovery — of your right to learn in freedom.

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Summary of Section 9:

Education is not a building or a degree.

It is the way you meet life.

If you’re curious, humble, honest, and involved —

You are always learning.

You reclaim education when you stop chasing labels and start living questions.

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Section 10: Where to Stop Formal Education — And Where to Begin Real Growth

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10.1 How Much Formal Education Is Enough?

There is no fixed age or class where one must stop, but here are general signs it’s time to walk away:

You are no longer learning anything useful, only memorizing

You feel drained, not inspired

You are staying in school only for a certificate, not for growth

You are delaying real life because you’re afraid

You are repeating meaningless activities just to “complete” your degree

For most people, after Class 10 (age 15–16) is a good time to ask:

Do I need more school, or do I need more life?

If you want to become a doctor, pilot, lawyer — continue with care.

If not, you may be better off starting your own path.

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10.2 Where Formal Education Must Not Go

Here is where education must stop before it ruins you:

When it trains you to obey blindly

When it makes you wait for permission to think or act

When it takes away your natural curiosity

When it turns you against your own interests, instincts, and body

When it rewards fear and imitation instead of courage and originality

If your education starts removing your spirit, it has gone too far.

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10.3 Where Real Growth Begins

Growth begins when:

You become interested in something for its own sake

You are ready to do things without reward or punishment

You are okay with failing, trying again, and improving

You want to serve, not just succeed

Here’s how you can grow without school:

Volunteer in areas that interest you (farming, teaching, elder care, cooking, healing, etc.)

Start small useful projects (repairing, building, writing, designing, documenting)

Spend time with people who know things — not for a degree, but to observe and absorb

Read what you want, when you want — not textbooks, but real books

Keep a learning journal instead of report cards

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10.4 Self-Education Doesn’t Need Exams — It Needs Exposure

You don’t need marks to measure growth.

You need real life experiences.

Instead of:

Exams → Try real deadlines

Assignments → Do real work

Reports → Build real relationships

Certificates → Create real impact

The world notices useful people, not certified ones.

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10.5 What You Must Still Learn — Lifelong

These are the subjects that truly matter:

How to work with your hands

How to stay calm under stress

How to listen deeply

How to take care of your body and mind

How to raise children naturally

How to grow food and stay connected to earth

How to learn new things — again and again, till death

These are never taught. But they are always needed.

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Final Words:

Education is not what others do to you. It is what you do with your life.

If formal education helps you grow, use it. If it blocks you, walk away.

You are not born to be tamed, tested, or trained to obey.

You are born to learn, live, serve, and evolve — on your own path.

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YOU WERE NEVER MEANT TO BE TAMED

A long conversation under a neem tree, 6:40 AM. Kettle boiling in the corner. Birds loud. Truth louder.

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Rohit:

You really think education is a scam?

Madhukar:

No. I think it’s a weapon. Scam is too weak a word.

Rohit:

But I studied 18 years. First class. English medium. B.Tech. MBA. What else should I have done?

Madhukar:

Exactly. They made you think there was nothing else.

Rohit:

But that’s the system. What can we do?

Madhukar:

You could have stopped at Class 8. Learned real work. Real skills. Real service. Saved 10 years of your life.

Rohit:

And done what? Become a farmer?

Madhukar:

Maybe. Or a carpenter. Or a water filter mechanic. Or a storyteller. Or a barefoot medic. Or a local food expert. Or a real teacher.

But you became a…?

Rohit:

Consultant.

Madhukar:

Means what?

Rohit:

Honestly, nothing. I help companies lie better.

Madhukar:

And you feel proud?

Rohit:

No. I feel like a caged dog wearing shoes.

Madhukar:

Then you understand domestication.

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Rohit:

So you’re saying all this education is just a way to break us?

Madhukar:

Yes. First they separate you from the soil, the sweat, the senses. Then they feed you rules, books, shame, medals, obedience. By 18, your spine is gone.

Rohit:

But I learned how to write reports, use Excel, speak English fluently...

Madhukar:

Good. Now try making your own dinner from scratch. Try surviving one week without your phone, your degree, your bank account. That’s real education.

Rohit:

So what should I have done instead?

Madhukar:

Started asking:

What am I hungry for?

What makes me strong, not scared?

What can I do with my hands, my mind, my body that will help others?

Then done that. Whether school liked it or not.

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Rohit:

But society expects…

Madhukar:

Society is not your guru. It’s your jailer. Always asking, “Are you normal yet?”

Rohit:

So when should one stop formal education?

Madhukar:

When it starts training you to obey, not think.

When it kills your questions.

When your learning is for approval, not survival.

For most, that’s Class 8 or 10.

Rohit:

But you didn’t go to college?

Madhukar:

No need. I found my teachers in pain, in farming, in old village healers, in failing often, and in watching my own children grow.

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Rohit:

So are you against all education?

Madhukar:

No. I am for real education.

That builds hands, not just heads.

That makes you free, not afraid.

That teaches you to build, grow, fix, heal, and question.

Not sit and wait for jobs.

Rohit:

But what if someone wants to be a doctor?

Madhukar:

Then study deeply, but serve truly. Not for money, not for name.

Go deep into anatomy, food, herbs, real healing — not pharma sales and private hospital targets.

Rohit:

And if they want to be a teacher?

Madhukar:

Then teach how to live. Not how to score.

---

Rohit:

What should I do now?

Madhukar:

First, stop calling yourself a failure.

Second, write down what makes you feel alive — not anxious.

Third, find someone doing that thing. Spend time. Watch. Help. Learn.

That’s your real classroom.

Rohit:

Will it pay?

Madhukar:

At first, no. But you’ll sleep well. Breathe better. Wake up clearer.

Then, when you’re really skilled, people will come.

Not because you advertised.

But because you’re useful.

---

Rohit:

And all my degrees?

Madhukar:

Burn them. Or use them to level your bed if one leg is short.

Rohit:

You’re brutal.

Madhukar:

No. I’m kind. The system was brutal. I’m just the mirror.

---

Rohit:

Sometimes I feel I was born wild. But they made me... smooth.

Madhukar:

That’s how they like it.

No claws. No howls.

Just soft suits and quieter complaints.

But inside you, the wild thing waits.

Rohit:

How do I bring it back?

Madhukar:

By stopping what tames you.

And starting what trains you.

Train your body.

Train your heart.

Train your courage.

Train your skills.

Then walk out. And stay out.

---

Rohit (whispering):

So education was castration.

Madhukar:

Not always. But mostly, yes.

Now grow your instincts back.

It’ll hurt.

But it’s worth it.

---

The birds had gone quiet. The kettle had cooled. Rohit didn’t move for a long time.

---

YOU WERE TAMED & LABELLED EDUCATED

---

Scene:

A quiet veranda in a remote village in Karnataka.

Madhukar, a calm middle-aged healer, sits cross-legged on a floor mat, holding a warm steel tumbler of buttermilk. Across from him sits Shankar, a frustrated 24-year-old graduate, jobless, confused, and angry.

---

Shankar:

I wasted 18 years of my life. What did I get? A piece of paper. A resume. No job. No peace. Just pressure.

---

Madhukar:

You didn’t waste 18 years.

They wasted it for you.

You only followed what everyone was told to follow.

---

Shankar:

They told me I’d be nothing without school. Without a degree. Without English. Without software. Without campus placements.

---

Madhukar:

Yes. That’s the script.

They scare you when you’re five.

They reward you when you obey.

They punish you when you ask real questions.

Then, when you're 25, they say: “Why can’t you handle life?”

---

Shankar:

But what's wrong with education? Isn't learning good?

---

Madhukar:

Learning is good.

But schooling is not learning.

Schooling is obedience training.

It teaches you how to sit, not how to think.

It tells you what’s allowed, not what’s possible.

---

Shankar:

So we’re all domesticated?

---

Madhukar:

Yes.

Like cattle.

Strong bodies, weak minds.

We stop trusting our instincts.

We start asking for permission to live.

---

Shankar:

But the world needs certificates. No one respects you without one.

---

Madhukar:

Yes, because the world is also domesticated.

It doesn’t see value. It sees approval.

It doesn’t see skill. It sees seal.

It doesn’t see human. It sees label.

---

Shankar:

So what’s the way out?

---

Madhukar:

First, stop pretending.

You are not confused. You are angry.

Because you feel betrayed — and rightly so.

Second, drop the race.

You don’t have to catch up. You were forced into it.

Third, build yourself — not your resume.

What do you like doing with your own hands?

---

Shankar:

I like fixing things. Tools, wires, cycles, motors.

But people say there’s no future in that.

---

Madhukar:

There’s no future in blind obedience, not in fixing things.

Start small.

Offer free service in the village.

Make things work again.

People will notice. Trust will grow. Work will come.

---

Shankar:

What about money?

---

Madhukar:

It will come after value.

First you must become useful.

Then reliable.

Then respected.

Then money follows.

But schools teach the reverse.

They say: Become certified, then you’ll become valuable.

---

Shankar:

So when should a child stop schooling?

---

Madhukar:

Depends.

If schooling helps them grow — continue.

If it starts killing their spirit — stop.

Most children should pause around Class 8 or 10.

Then try life for 1–2 years.

Volunteer. Build. Teach. Explore.

If they feel the need to return — do so consciously.

---

Shankar:

But won’t parents panic?

---

Madhukar:

They will.

Because they were also trained to believe in degrees.

You must be calm and firm.

Show them your growth, not your rebellion.

---

Shankar:

What should I do every day now?

---

Madhukar:

Every day:

Work with your hands at least 2 hours

Read 20 pages of something that inspires you

Talk to 1 elder or skilled person

Help one child or neighbour

Reflect for 30 minutes without screen or sound

That’s real education.

---

Shankar:

And skills?

---

Madhukar:

Pick 2–3 real-life skills based on your curiosity.

Stick with them for a year.

It could be:

Plumbing

Electronics repair

Cooking

Farming

Natural healing

Story recording

Designing posters

Teaching children

Handcrafts

Let usefulness, not popularity, guide your choices.

---

Shankar:

How do I deal with this anger?

---

Madhukar:

Convert it to clarity.

Don’t fight your parents or teachers.

Don’t waste time blaming.

Instead, take that energy and build your own foundation.

You don’t need revenge.

You need purpose.

---

Shankar:

And books? Should I still read?

---

Madhukar:

Yes. But not for exams.

Read for wisdom.

Start with these:

“Deschooling Society” by Ivan Illich

“Weapons of Mass Instruction” by John Taylor Gatto

“Pedagogy of the Oppressed” by Paulo Freire

Or even farmers' diaries, grandparents' stories, village histories

Every book must serve your clarity, not confuse your life more.

---

Shankar:

Do you think I’ll make it?

---

Madhukar:

If you stay honest — yes.

If you stay useful — definitely.

If you never stop learning on your own — absolutely.

---

(A moment of silence. Birds chirp. Anju, Madhukar’s daughter, walks in holding a broken toy.)

---

Anju:

Appa, the wheel came off again.

---

Madhukar:

(Hands it to Shankar)

You said you fix things, right?

---

Shankar: (smiling)

Yes. Let me try.

---

[End of dialogue.]

---

THEY CALLED IT EDUCATION

they sat me down in a straight chair

told me this is how the world works.

that there are right answers,

if you raise your hand fast enough.

if you follow the line and don’t ask where it’s going.

they said the bell is your boss now,

and the chalk is holy.

the uniform—your new skin.

and your curiosity?

irrelevant.

they killed the dog inside me

that wanted to sniff the world.

taught me to memorize rivers I’d never touch,

solve equations that had no hunger in them.

I sat under buzzing fans,

learning how to forget myself.

writing essays on freedom

with a principal watching from the door.

every question marked in red

was a part of my spirit that got amputated.

I saw the boy who asked “why?” too often

get sent out.

I saw the girl who danced too much

get warned.

I saw teachers become clocks.

and I became silent.

somewhere, a field called out to me,

a real place where onions grew.

but I stayed stuck inside that coffin of benches

for ten, then twelve, then fifteen years.

my hands soft,

my spine bent,

my thoughts secondhand.

and when they gave me the certificate,

I realized:

I knew how to pass,

but not how to live.

they told me

“education will give you wings.”

but what they gave me

was a well-decorated cage.

I didn’t know how to cook,

how to fix,

how to speak to an old man without fear.

I knew Shakespeare,

but not how to grow food.

I knew GDP,

but not how to keep my family from breaking.

I knew formulas,

but I didn’t know how to breathe through panic.

I met Madhukar.

he never wore shoes inside his hut.

had no degrees.

but he knew how to listen,

how to sharpen a sickle,

how to warm oil for a crying baby.

he told me,

> “you've been educated to forget what matters.

they've replaced instinct with obedience.

but your hunger still remembers.”

and I did.

somewhere beneath the graphs and grades,

I remembered my grandfather’s hands

and how he used to smell the soil before planting.

that was knowledge too.

but no school asked about it.

I threw out the coaching notes.

burnt the exam guides.

not in rebellion—

in relief.

I started to build with my own hands.

watch people,

help elders,

stay close to pain,

walk with children,

let curiosity return

without needing applause.

I didn’t need a syllabus anymore.

the world taught me freely.

how to make buttermilk,

how to silence a barking stomach,

how to accept death when it comes.

some days I think:

if I had died in that classroom,

they would’ve said,

“he was a bright student.”

but instead I walked out.

slowly.

not as a dropout.

but as someone reclaiming his life.

I stopped learning what they forced.

I started growing what I chose.

and for once—

I felt whole.

—