There are weekdays when the first thought isn’t work, but they’re rare. For some, it’s been this way for what feels like forever. At this point, it's easy to relate to Hrithik Roshan in Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara — taking work calls in the middle of a vacation.
As much as one might want to break free from the grind, it’s not that simple. There are layers to unlearn, habits to unhook. This is an attempt to unpack it all — for anyone who needs it.
Indian work culture comes with its own set of challenges, but for women, it often runs deeper. It’s not just about finishing tasks — it’s about being switched on all the time, holding things together at work and at home, and doing it without dropping the ball. There’s this subtle pressure to be composed, capable, and constantly available. And even when you want to slow down, the guilt of stepping back can feel heavier than work itself.
In the middle of all this, taking care of one’s health quietly slips down the priority list. During and slightly post-COVID, it felt like we were finally paying attention — but as life picked up pace again, so did the pressure. Deliverables go out on time, yes, but often at the cost of rest. Even leisure starts to feel taxing.
There’s always a cost to doing “everything, everywhere, all at once.” For women in 9-to-5s, it often shows up as exhaustion, brain fog, or the constant feeling of falling behind. Cognitive Load Theory by John Sweller says our brains can only handle so much at once. But somehow, women are expected to keep juggling it all — work, home, relationships, health — like it’s no big deal. And when that load gets too heavy, it’s not just productivity that takes a hit. It hits clarity, confidence, and on some days, a sense of calm.
I think the rat race began the very second we were born. Topped with the pressure to come first, beat Sharma Ji Ka Beta, win medals, and ace art competitions. Our parents meant well, but their idea of “best” didn’t always match ours.
Then came social media, and everyone seemed happier. Sure, if so. Still ignorable. But LinkedIn? A parade of "I’m happy to share that..." and suddenly we find ourselves drowning in self-doubt. But when did we all start running the same race? Should a finance professional compare themselves to an artist? Or even another finance professional? Is a job title the sum total of who we are?
This takes me back to school. I was that artistic kid—paintbrush in one hand, sketchbook in the other, colours all over me. And maybe that was the last time I truly enjoyed making art. Because now, somewhere along the way, doing things just for fun started to feel shameful. That’s what happens when dreams turn into deliverables. Performance pressure kicks in. Timelines don’t bend. Briefs get tighter. And suddenly, what you once loved starts to feel like work.
So let me ask you — When was the last time you engaged in a hobby purely for joy, not for money?
Which brings me to my next point.
There’s a theory called Motivation Crowding by Bruno Frey and Reto Jegen. It suggests that offering external rewards—like money—for an activity can sometimes kill the internal joy of doing it. And honestly, I personally relate to it. The moment I monetised my passion, I stopped doing it unless there was a paycheck involved.
But strangely, that’s also how I found my way out of burnout. I started carving out space for things I haven’t monetised. I paint again. I dance, I knit, I travel. And I’m slowly rewiring my brain to believe that I don’t need to earn a salary or get paid per word every time I sit down to write.
Of course, everyone’s version of joy looks different. But I do believe art is kind of universal. I draw—often not well—but it brings peace, pulls me out of the loop. Same with travel; meeting new people and exploring cultures. And maybe that’s the privilege of being a woman in her 20s — having the space, and sometimes the means, to seek these little escapes.
So if you’re feeling burned out too, here’s a thought. Find joy in something that doesn’t pay you back in cash. Let it pay you back in calmness.
I love Tamasha, the movie. When it was first released, maybe half of us didn’t get it. But then we grew up, and suddenly, Kabir’s journey made sense. From a by-the-book corporate employee to someone who breaks free and rediscovers his true self, it hits differently now.
There’s depletion, and then there’s disillusionment. Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference. Is this a creative block, or am I just evolving — outgrowing old interests and leaning into new ones? Does it bring me the joy it once did?
Burnout isn’t always loud. For many women working the regular 9-to-5, it’s not just about being tired of the job; it quietly seeps into everything else. It’s the weight of trying to do it all — sometimes to prove something, sometimes to grow, often both. But the truth is that the world won’t stop spinning if you don’t hold everything together all at once. You don’t have to earn your rest. You don’t have to justify your joy.
Maybe that’s the point of a reset — not to start over, but to come back to yourself. To remember what it feels like to feel again. And that’s more than enough.
