WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

Don’t tell me what everyone is doing.

I can see it with my own eyes.

I live here too.

I walk these same broken streets.

I eat the same overpriced rice.

I hear the same noisy news.

But I didn’t ask about them.

I asked,

What are you doing?

Everyone is touching their parents’ feet.

But they don't speak a kind word all year.

Their feet get love.

Their heart gets none.

Everyone is marrying by 28.

Even if they don’t know what love is.

Even if they haven’t healed their past.

Even if they’re scared of being alone.

Everyone is making babies right after marriage.

They don’t know who they are,

but they want to raise a child.

They call it a blessing.

But it’s just panic in a crib.

Everyone is forcing their kid into IIT coaching.

The kid wants to paint or farm or run or breathe.

But no one cares.

Not even the parents.

Everyone is joining tuition —

even the bright ones.

Because if you don’t go to tuition,

what will the neighbors say?

Everyone buys gold at Diwali.

Even if they have debt.

Because gold is not an investment —

it’s an emotion, they say.

Everyone wants a house.

Not a home.

A house with loans and paint

and 30 years of stress.

Everyone celebrates birthdays

with fake smiles and fancy cakes.

They don’t remember your dreams.

But they remember your cake flavor.

Everyone does big weddings

with 800 people,

half of whom don’t even know your name.

But they come for the biryani.

Everyone worships gods they don’t understand.

They pray louder than they listen.

They fast without kindness.

They donate without change.

Everyone does poojas

without knowing the meaning.

Just follow the priest.

Don’t ask questions.

Everyone wants a government job.

Even if they hate it.

Even if it eats their soul.

Just for the pension.

Everyone buys the most expensive school.

Not the one with love,

not the one that cares,

but the one with AC buses.

Everyone takes medicine for small headaches.

Even if a nap would heal them.

Even if rest is free.

Everyone bows to babas

with private jets.

They touch their feet

but never read a book.

Everyone shares WhatsApp tips.

Haldi will cure cancer,

they say.

Because who needs science

when uncle has a forward?

Everyone respects elders

even if the elders abuse.

They say, “Keep quiet — he's older.”

But pain doesn’t care about age.

Everyone wants a fair bride.

Even if their hearts are black with ego.

Even if their marriage is just

a caste-approved disaster.

Everyone wants to be busy.

Busy and tired and proud.

But nobody wants to be still.

Nobody wants to ask:

Why am I doing this?

So again,

don’t tell me what everyone is doing.

I already know.

They’re copying.

They’re hiding.

They’re scared.

I’m asking,

What are you doing?

With your time.

With your voice.

With your breath.

With your spine.

If your answer is still:

“But everyone does it...”

Then light a diya for your freedom.

Because it’s already dead.

You are not born

to repeat the world.

You are born

to make it honest.

So tell me,

before the crowd swallows you —

What are you doing?

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