Life: Purpose or Pleasure?

Very often, I think about what best defines me — I am Indian, I am Hindu, I am a man, I am a student. I was born and raised in Kashi, one of the smallest yet oldest towns in the world. I am a son, a brother, a friend… and many other things. But what’s most important?

I often play scenarios in my head. What matters more — my religion or my country? My cultural values or what I was taught in school? And somewhere in the middle of all these comparisons, there is one thought I always circle back to and contemplate for hours: should I live my life for a purpose, or simply enjoy its comforts and pleasures?

In a broader sense — should I live to fulfil my duties? Study hard, build a career, get a high-paying job, get married, be a good husband, and eventually, like my parents did, start living for my children? Or are these the golden years — to chill with friends, go clubbing, travel, drink, and just have fun?

And to be clear, this isn’t about family pressure or responsibilities weighing on me. These are entirely my own thoughts. But there was one particular moment that made this question very real — I had to choose between pursuing my crush or preparing for one of the most important exams of my life.

Whenever I find myself at crossroads like that, I think back to watching Mahabharat as a kid, and the moment Krishna explains that the true meaning of life is to live for others and to detach from worldly things. For a long time, I used that as a lens to judge the people around me — my friends, my peers— whenever they went clubbing or to parties I couldn’t attend because I was either studying or sharpening some skill.

But as time passed, I realised something. They weren’t being irresponsible or incompetent. They were simply doing what felt right to them.

And honestly? After all my effort and sacrifice, I find myself wondering if I should have enjoyed my college years more. Because I didn’t quite achieve what I had set out to achieve anyway. I genuinely wonder sometimes whether my friends, the ones who never overthought any of this, are living happier lives — just by being present, without worrying about the future.

Then I think about my father. He once had a vast circle of friends. Over time, as the responsibility of providing for the family grew, he slowly lost touch with almost everyone. Now, his world is his wife and his two sons. And I don’t say that as a criticism — I say it with a heavy heart, because I can see how much he gave up.

In my own selfish way, I don’t want that for him. And I don’t want it for myself either.

So where does that leave me? I still don’t have a clean answer. Maybe nobody does. But I think the real question isn’t purpose or pleasure — it’s whether you are making a conscious choice, or just drifting into one because life pushed you there. My father didn’t sit down one day and decide to lose his friends. It just happened, quietly, over years of doing the right thing. And that scares me more than anything — not the sacrifice itself, but the unawareness of it.

I think I want both. Purpose that doesn’t hollow me out, and pleasure that doesn’t leave me empty. Whether that’s possible, I genuinely don’t know yet. But at least now I’m asking the question — and maybe that’s where it starts.