A desi take on how nobody really knows what they're doing, despite what aunty ji thinks
Remember when you were a bachcha and thought adults had
it all figured out? That somewhere between 10th boards and getting your first
job, someone would hand you "The Complete Guide to Being a Proper Indian
Adult" - complete with chapters on when to get married, how to handle
relatives' questions, and the ancient art of making round rotis?
Well, plot twist: That manual was probably lost
somewhere between Independence and the IT boom. And if it exists, it's
definitely written by some uncle who thinks WhatsApp forwards are news.
Education - The Great
Marks Race
Our education system prepared us for everything
except... well, life. We can solve complex trigonometry problems but can't
figure out how to file our own PAN card application. We memorized the periodic
table but nobody taught us how to negotiate with auto drivers or understand
EMIs.
I realized this when my neighbor's 8-year-old asked me
what I studied, and after saying "Engineering," he immediately asked,
"But uncle, why are you not in America?" Even kids know the script
better than we do.
The truth? Half of us chose engineering because
"beta, scope hai," and the other half chose it because our parents
filled out the application form. Now we're all "software engineers"
who spend our days in meetings discussing things that could have been emails.
Sports and the Great Indian
Dream
Every Indian parent wants their child to be the next
Sachin or Saina, but only after they become a doctor or engineer first. We grew
up playing gully cricket with elaborate rules ("Ball goes to terrace,
you're out!") and football with stones as goalposts.
Now as adults, our biggest sporting achievement is
climbing three flights of stairs without getting breathless, or successfully
completing a morning walk without getting distracted by street food. We watch
IPL religiously and argue about team strategies while struggling to touch our
own toes.
Friends - The WhatsApp
Warriors
Remember when friendship meant sharing tiffin and
cycling to school together? Now our deepest conversations happen in WhatsApp
groups named "College Gang" where we share good morning messages and
argue about whose turn it is to plan the reunion that never happens.
We have three types of friends: school friends who
remember when you were weird, college friends who know your secrets, and work
friends who pretend to laugh at your boss's jokes with you. All of them will
eventually ask you to like their spouse's business page on Facebook.
Love in the Time of
Arranged-cum-Love
Bollywood taught us that love meant dancing around
trees and fighting 10 villains for your beloved. Reality taught us that love
means finding someone whose Netflix preferences match yours and whose family
doesn't ask too many questions about your salary.
We have "love marriages" that started on
matrimonial sites and "arranged marriages" where the couple chatted
on WhatsApp for six months first. The lines are so blurred that even we don't
know which category we fall into anymore.
Marriage - The Great
Indian Wedding Circus
Nothing prepares you for Indian wedding planning.
You'll spend more time discussing the catering menu than you did choosing your
life partner. Relatives you've never met will have strong opinions about your
mehendi design, and someone will definitely comment that weddings were simpler
"in our time."
The best part? After all the drama, photos, and dance
performances, married life is basically the same as being single, except now
you have to coordinate your Amazon deliveries and someone judges your choice of
breakfast cereal.
Family - The Original
Reality TV Show
Indian families are the ultimate ensemble cast where
everyone has an opinion about everyone else's life choices. Your career
decisions will be debated in family WhatsApp groups, your weight changes will
be monitored by distant aunties, and your marriage timeline will be discussed
more than the Union Budget.
We master the art of selective listening during family
gatherings - nodding at unsolicited advice while mentally planning our escape
to the nearest corner with good WiFi.
Happiness - The Moving
Goalpost
First it was "get good marks, then you'll be
happy." Then "get into good college." Then "get good
job." Then "get married." Then "buy house." Then
"have kids." The goalposts keep moving faster than our ability to
reach them.
Meanwhile, our happiest moments are often the simplest
ones - finding a good dosa place, getting through traffic without honking, or
successfully explaining to our parents why we don't want to join their morning
laughter club.
Children - Mini Mes with
Maximum Drama
Having kids means you finally understand why your
parents said "wait until you have your own children." These tiny
humans will question your authority while simultaneously being completely
dependent on you for everything, including finding socks they're literally
wearing.
Indian parenting is basically wondering if you should
be stricter like your parents were or more liberal like you wished they had
been, while your child plays Minecraft and speaks better English than you do.
Money - The Great Indian
Middle-Class Struggle
We're the generation caught between "money can't
buy happiness" and "₹50 extra for express delivery? That's too
much." We budget carefully for months and then spend ₹2000 on food
delivery because we're "too tired to cook."
Our relationship with money is complicated: we compare
mutual fund returns while buying the cheapest vegetables, and we research
phones for weeks before buying but will spend impulsively on "limited time
offers."
Jobs - The IT Chronicles
Half of India works in IT, and the other half pretends
to understand what the first half does. We attend "scrum meetings"
and talk about "bandwidth" while our parents tell people we
"work with computers."
Office politics here involves navigating who brought
homemade lunch to share, whose birthday cake cutting you have to attend, and
how to politely decline invitations to colleagues' house-warming ceremonies.
Politics - The WhatsApp
University Graduates
We're all political experts now, thanks to WhatsApp
forwards and Twitter threads. Family WhatsApp groups have become debate forums
where uncles share "important news" and everyone else practices the
art of strategic silence.
The real skill is navigating political conversations at
family gatherings without offending anyone while secretly checking
fact-checking websites under the table.
Travel - Instagram vs
Reality
We plan trips based on Instagram potential and end up
spending more time taking photos than actually experiencing places. "Let's
go to Goa" usually means "let's recreate those beach photos we saw
online."
Indian travel stories always include: getting lost
because we trusted Google Maps more than locals, finding the one South Indian
restaurant in North India, and that one friend who overpacked for a weekend
trip.
The Beautiful Indian
Truth
Here's what I've learned from our desi adulting
experience: Everyone is just trying to balance tradition with modernity while
pretending they know the difference between mutual funds and fixed deposits.
That uncle who seems successful? He's probably still
asking his wife to handle all the bank work. The aunty with perfect kids? Her
children WhatsApp her to ask how to boil eggs. The cousin with the great job? They're
googling "how to talk to boss about salary increment" like the rest
of us.
We're all just trying to be good Indians while figuring
out what that even means in 2025. We want to respect our parents' values while
creating our own, earn in rupees while dreaming in dollars, and maintain
relationships while building careers.
The Conclusion (Or, What
We're All Really Doing)
So here's to all of us desi adults - the engineering
graduates working in marketing, the arranged-love-marriage couples, the family
WhatsApp group survivors, and the people still trying to make perfect round
rotis.
We may not have received the manual, but we're creating
our own version - one that includes equal parts tradition and rebellion, family
obligations and personal dreams, and definitely more masala than any Western
manual could handle.
And honestly? Our improvised version is probably more
entertaining anyway. At least it comes with better food and stronger family
support systems, even if they come with unsolicited advice.
P.S. If anyone finds the real Indian adulting manual,
it's probably with that relative who knows exactly when you should get married,
what job you should have, and why you're not eating enough vegetables. Good
luck getting it from them.
What's your most "only in India" adulting moment? Share your stories in the comments - we're all figuring out this beautiful chaos together, one family gathering at a time.


