JOB IS LIFE?

“They chased the job like it was life itself — begging for it, lying for it, killing their joy for it, clinging to its promotion rope, and dragging their families with them into the dust. But by the time they looked up, life had already resigned — and nobody noticed.”

INTRODUCTION: THE BIGGEST LIE EVER SOLD

Since childhood, we are told —

“Study hard. Get a good job. Then your life is set.”

But the truth is —

The job doesn’t set your life. It swallows it.

You don’t work the job.

The job works you.

You don’t live to earn.

You earn and forget to live.

---

CHAPTER 1: THE MADNESS TO GET A JOB

Everywhere you look —

students, parents, politicians, relatives, neighbours —

Everyone is obsessed with one thing: “Get a job.”

It doesn’t matter what you love,

what your health needs,

what your heart says —

You must get a job. At any cost.

So what do people do?

Study things they don’t care about

Memorize useless theories

Join coaching factories

Write fake experiences on their resumes

Lie in interviews

Pay bribes

Use contacts

Pull strings

Steal positions

Sleep with bosses

Destroy others’ chances

They are not becoming better people.

They are just playing dirtier games to win a seat.

Because “job” is the only ticket to…

Respect

Marriage

House loan

Social status

Parental pride

Nobody asks —

“What are you really good at?”

They only ask —

“What job do you have?”

---

CHAPTER 2: THE POLITICS OF GETTING IN

Let’s say you do get a job.

What next?

Now comes the real game.

A game that no college prepares you for.

OFFICE POLITICS.

To survive, you must:

Act sweet to seniors

Stay quiet when something wrong happens

Take credit when it’s not yours

Blame others for your mistakes

Laugh at the boss’s bad jokes

Lie about your achievements

Stay back late for no reason

Work on holidays to look “loyal”

Say “yes sir” even when your body says “no”

You slowly start to die from the inside.

But outside, you get your “Best Employee” award.

---

CHAPTER 3: THE PROMOTION HUNGER

You got a job.

You played the game.

Now what?

You want a promotion.

Because more salary = more respect = more fake happiness.

Now the real torture begins.

To get promoted:

You push your juniors down

You gossip and manipulate

You hide knowledge

You flatter the right people

You show off fake work

You attend fake training

You burn your family time

You sacrifice your mental peace

You say “yes” when you want to scream “no”

You stop being human

You become a machine

And when the promotion comes —

you smile, post on LinkedIn, take your family for dinner,

and forget what you lost to get here.

---

CHAPTER 4: THE ADDICTION TO SALARY

Now you’re earning.

Good money.

But are you free? No.

You’ve upgraded everything —

house, car, clothes, school, gadgets, loans.

Your needs are now chained to your salary.

Even if you hate your job,

you cannot leave.

Because your lifestyle depends on it.

You are not working for money.

You are working to keep your EMIs alive.

---

CHAPTER 5: WHAT YOU LOST WITHOUT NOTICING

Look at yourself honestly:

You sleep less

You eat fast

You skip exercise

You ignore your children

You snap at your spouse

You don’t meet friends

You always check your mail

You talk only about work

You have no energy for hobbies

You have no time to reflect

You feel tired, angry, and numb

You haven’t lived in years.

You’ve only worked.

---

CHAPTER 6: RETIREMENT — TOO LATE TO LIVE

After 35–40 years of this circus,

you retire.

Your children are grown up.

Your health is broken.

Your dreams are forgotten.

Your body is tired.

You have money.

But no excitement.

Now you ask:

“What should I do with my time?”

But there’s no answer.

Because your job was your life.

And now there’s nothing left.

---

CHAPTER 7: THE DEATH OF NATURAL LIFE

Jobs didn’t just kill your freedom.

They killed nature itself.

You don’t grow your own food.

You don’t repair your own house.

You don’t cook.

You don’t create.

You don’t share with community.

Everything is outsourced.

You’ve forgotten how to live.

But you remember your passwords.

---

CHAPTER 8: SO WHAT CAN WE DO NOW?

We’re not saying don’t work.

We’re saying — don’t forget to live.

Try this:

Do less, but love it

Work part-time if you can

Live below your means

Grow your own food

Cook at home

Spend more time with your children

Learn something fun

Serve someone without money

Create art, write, build, move

Sleep when sleepy

Say no when it’s wrong

Unplug from your phone

Let your job support your life —

not replace it.

—

PART 2: HEALING DIALOGUE

TITLE: “I HAVE A JOB… BUT I DON’T HAVE A LIFE”

SETTING:

Under the neem tree beside Madhukar’s mud house in rural Karnataka.

Three visitors arrive, each from a different stage of the “job trap.”

---

CHARACTERS:

Madhukar – The Hermit, soft-spoken but brutally honest.

Kiran (28) – A job-seeker, desperate and depressed after multiple failures.

Vaishali (42) – A middle manager, high salary but burnt out and bitter.

Ramesh (61) – A recently retired bank officer, feeling empty and forgotten.

---

[Scene opens with the three sitting quietly before Madhukar. Wind rustles dry leaves.]

Madhukar (pouring water into clay cups):

Drink. You’ve all come heavy.

Kiran (with trembling hands):

I’ve done everything, sir.

B.Tech. M.Tech. GATE. UPSC. Coding. Even spiritual courses.

But no job. No respect.

I feel like a ghost.

Vaishali (laughs bitterly):

And I feel like a machine.

I got the job. Big company.

Now I wake up with chest pain.

Every day I say “yes” to what feels like dying.

My son doesn’t talk to me.

My husband only sees my back.

I manage 80 people at work… but I can’t manage my own breath.

Ramesh (smiles emptily):

I retired 6 months ago.

I was an honest officer for 34 years.

Now I water plants and stare at walls.

Nobody calls me.

My wife says I look like a stranger in the house.

My life was my job.

And now… what am I?

Madhukar (quietly):

Your story is the same story.

The job didn’t fail you.

You made it your identity.

Kiran:

Then what am I without a job?

Madhukar:

A human.

Like the bird who sings without a position.

Like the buffalo who ploughs without a degree.

Like your grandmother who raised three generations without a resume.

Vaishali (tears up):

But everything… even self-worth… is connected to my job now.

Madhukar:

Because you were trained that way.

From day one, they told you —

“Be something.”

Not “Be yourself.”

Ramesh:

But society respects only working people.

Madhukar:

Society respects what it can use.

Not who you truly are.

Kiran:

But without a job, people insult me.

Madhukar:

Then ask — Why do you need those people?

Why must your value be rented?

Vaishali:

But I have EMIs. Lifestyle. Education expenses. Parents’ medical bills.

Madhukar:

Exactly.

You work not for your needs.

But for your fears.

They told you:

Buy a flat

Take loans

Put kids in English school

Save for old age

But they never told you how to live without a leash.

Kiran:

Then what do I do now?

Madhukar (smiling):

Do something you wouldn’t post on LinkedIn.

Grow food. Teach a child for free.

Repair shoes. Stitch clothes. Raise goats.

Write poetry. Fix a leaking tap.

Make yourself useful again — not just employable.

Vaishali (laughing through tears):

Useful, not employable.

That hit hard.

Ramesh:

And what about us old people?

Madhukar:

Become the elders this world has lost.

Not advisors of investments…

but guardians of wisdom.

Show your grandchildren how to live before they pick a job.

Kiran (softly):

I wanted a job so I can live.

But now…

Maybe I need to live before I get a job.

Madhukar:

Yes.

The job should serve your life.

Not steal it.

[Scene fades. They sit in silence, watching the sunset — not rushing, not running. Just being.]

—

“THE JOB ATE ME”

(A brutal, dark, sarcastic funeral for the soul that once lived before the salary)

---

they told me

go to school

tie your shoes

shut your mouth

and wait for the job.

I waited.

and waited.

and when it came,

it wore a tie,

and called me Sir

as it slipped a leash around my neck.

---

I sold my laughter

for an appraisal.

I rented my health

for a bonus.

I auctioned my family

for a position.

and I took the money,

bought a bigger cage,

called it a house.

---

Monday to Monday

I performed.

face on. mask on.

“Yes boss.” “No problem.”

“Happy to stretch late.”

Every nod was a funeral

for a piece of my spine.

---

I didn’t eat.

I reported.

I didn’t sleep.

I replied.

I didn’t love.

I scheduled.

I didn’t raise my child.

I raised targets.

---

I fought others

for what wasn’t mine.

smiled in meetings,

bled in silence.

laughed at jokes

that murdered my soul.

---

Every year,

they gave me a certificate.

“Best Performer.”

I hung it on my wall,

like a death certificate

for my own self.

---

Now I sit, retired,

with a fat pension

and an empty chest.

My wife doesn’t know me.

My kids don’t call.

My knees are weak.

My hands shake.

My mind is a hard drive

with no power.

---

the job ate me

one bite at a time.

but I chewed myself too

thinking it was success.

---

nobody tells you

how expensive it is

to sell your life

and call it a career.

---

if you see your job

trying to become your life,

run.

don’t look back.

don’t even say goodbye.

just run

and build something

nobody can fire you from.

—