last weekend, i met a few friends.
the usual spot — the chai stall behind our old college. the one where we used to sit for hours, talking about nothing and everything.
same place. same chai. same plastic chairs.
but we’re not the same.
some of us are working. some moved cities. some got married. some are still figuring things out. the conversations are different now — careers, rent, emis, who’s getting promoted, who’s burnt out.
at one point, someone said: “yaar, life was simpler then. now everything feels… serious.”
and we all nodded. because it’s true.
but then i said something that made them uncomfortable.
“what if the seriousness isn’t life? what if it’s just… you? the version of you that’s been performing for so long you forgot it’s a performance?”
silence.
one friend laughed nervously. another said “deep, yaar” — which is code for “i don’t want to think about this right now.”
but i kept going.
assume you’re a third-party auditor#
i told them: just assume you’re a third-party auditor. looking at your own life. completely detached. no identity. no “i’m a good person” or “i’m a failure” or “i should be further ahead.”
just… data.
what would you see?
would you see someone living their actual life? or someone managing an image?
most of us are managing.
not because we’re fake. because we’re human.
the default mode network — your brain’s background noise#
here’s something i learned recently.
your brain has a system called the default mode network — DMN for short.
it’s what runs in the background when you’re not focused on anything. your inner monologue. self-judgment. rumination. the story you tell about who you are, why your life is the way it is, what you’re anxious about.
it’s basically your ego’s home base.
the DMN is always running. always narrating. always comparing.
- “why didn’t i get that promotion?”
- “they’re doing better than me.”
- “i should have said something different.”
- “what if they’re secretly mad at me?”
you didn’t choose these thoughts. they just… arrive.
and most of the time, you believe them.
layer 1 — the mask#
here’s the first thing i’ve noticed.
there’s a version of me i show the world. the competent one. the professional. the guy who has his act together.
that version is real — i actually am competent. i actually do try hard.
but it’s not the whole story.
the mask isn’t a lie. it’s just… a layer.
the problem is when you forget it’s a layer. when you start believing the performance is the person.
most people live and die at this layer. polishing the mask. optimizing the image. wondering why success feels thin.
layer 2 — the reactions#
under the mask is the reactive self.
the automatic responses that fire before you think.
- irritation at a certain colleague
- the tightness when you’re not acknowledged
- the compulsion to check, to fix, to prove
- the discomfort in stillness
these aren’t choices. they’re old programs. written long ago. running on autopilot.
most of what feels like “personality” is actually just accumulated reaction patterns.
lao tzu said: “the rigid thing is the dead thing.”
your reactions are rigidities. and they run you until you notice them.
what i’ve been trying#
i told my friends: i’ve been trying to catch myself.
not to stop performing. just to notice that i’m doing it.
not to stop reacting. just to ask: “how old is this reaction?”
you’d be surprised. most of the time, it’s much older than the situation.
the colleague who irritates you? they’re standing in a spot someone else occupied years ago. your brain just… reused the program.
the practice (try this)#
next time you’re in a meeting — or a conversation, or even just scrolling on your phone — notice:
- how many times do you say something primarily to shape someone’s impression of you?
- how many times do you react before you even think?
don’t change anything. just notice.
observation before correction.
that’s the whole game.
the honest caveat#
i told my friends this and they looked uncomfortable.
because no one wants to hear that they’re performing.
but here’s the thing: it’s not an accusation. it’s just… reality.
we all perform. we all react. we all have old programs running.
the question isn’t “am i performing?” — you are. we all are.
the question is: do you know you’re doing it?
because the person who knows they’re wearing a costume can take it off.
the person who thinks the costume is their skin? they can’t.
part 2 coming#
this is just the first layer.
next time, i’ll write about what’s under the reactions — the actual motives. the engine that runs everything. the one or two drives that generate most of your behaviour.
that part is… harder.
but we’ll get there.
next time you’re in a conversation, notice the gap between what you feel and what you say. that gap is where your real self lives.
