The jugaad for therapy.

Our history is full of movements.

Me Too...Chipko Movement.

And now, I present to you:

The Resistance Movement and The Avoidance Movement.

No slogans.No placards.

Just people who are always ready with a “NO.”

One of my friends has been having panic attacks for years. One episode took over her nervous system. And now, it’s become her personality. I don’t mean to sound rude. But sometimes the anxiety attacks arrive before she does.

We were chatting about self-work the other day. I suggested therapy. She sipped her cold coffee and said:

"Honestly? I like to fake it now... That’s how I get attention from my husband."

Wait. WHAT?

Do you really need to faint near the dishwasher to be seen?

Anyway, I persisted."But what stops you from seeing a therapist?”

She gave me that patronizing smile.

"I have you, my dear. Why pay someone when I can emotionally drain my friends for free?"

Then, just to oblige me, she went to one session.

Came back shouting like a winner of olympics 

"Guess what! The therapist said I’m so wise… she wants to learn from me!"

Bas. Story khatam. Therapist ban gayi student. 

Another friend has been gobbling anti-anxiety meds like peanuts—self-prescribed for the last ten years. He says it’s fine because he takes vape .

Apparently, it neutralises trauma.

A client's husband says, "He doesn’t need therapy. Our dog is enough."

Ah, yes. Emotional support swap. Dog in, therapist out.

And of course, the classic South Asian greatest hits:

“I’m fine.”

"Log kya kahenge?”

"I’m strong, not pagal.”

We love repression. It’s our national sport after cricket.

Reflection?No thanks.

I asked a close SSA ....Self-Selected Avoider..... to reflect on herself for just 3 days.

She said, “I’m not ready to face myself.”

To be honest, many aren’t. The mirror doesn’t lie. And it doesn’t give filters either.

In a session this morning, I asked a client:

“How do you cope with anger?”

She lit up.

“I drink green tea. Chamomile is my favorite. I do yoga. Then journaling.”

I nodded.

“And?”

She paused.

“Nothing.”

"And how does that help?”

“Temporarily. I feel calm.”

“And you still want to slap your brother?”

“Oh yes. Any time. Just say the word.”

That’s the thing. We distract, not resolve.

Green tea can’t wash away 15 years of repressed rage.

Ajit Singh’s sad songs can’t replace deep inner work.

Watching The Secret twice doesn’t make you immune to anxiety.

Therapy isn’t for the weak. It’s for the brave.

No therapist will ever say,

"Aap alcoholic ho? Toh shaadi kar lo. Sudhar jaoge."

Healing isn’t a jugaad.

It’s work.It’s raw.

It’s about going to the roots of the problem and sitting with what you find.I t’s not easy.But it’s worth it.

Yes, I have now fallen in love with buying soft face tissues—for my therapy room.

Tears happen.So does laughter.But most importantly, truth happens.

Ask yourself—

What am I doing?

Why am I reacting this way?

What do I really need?

Because if your questions are clear,Your answers will be clear too.