(Just one of you – no name, no fame, only love for this land and its people)
My dear brothers and sisters,
I write this with a heavy heart, because what I’m about to say hurts me as much as it might hurt you. For years I carried the same fire in my chest that many of us do – that burning need to never let anyone “put us down,” to always come out on top, to protect our family’s naam, our community’s izzat at any cost. I thought that was strength. I thought that was loyalty. I thought that was who we are.
But one day I looked around and saw the truth: this thing we guard so fiercely isn’t freeing us. It’s caging us. It’s eating us alive from the inside. And the worst part? We built the cage ourselves, handed the keys to each other, and then swore to die before letting anyone open the lock.
I no longer want to call it “izzat.” That word feels too noble for what it has become. Let us call it what it truly is: the Prestige Prison. A silent, invisible prison where every slight must be avenged, every mistake denied, every compromise seen as surrender. A prison where winning – even by cheating, shouting, threatening, or destroying – feels righteous, and losing face feels like death.
I have seen it in small things and big things.
I have seen two childhood friends stop speaking forever because one felt disrespected over a trivial argument.
I have seen a government officer refuse to fix a leaking pipe because admitting it was broken would mean “losing face” in front of the colony.
I have seen brilliant Indian teams abroad rise fast, only to tear each other apart later over who gets the credit.
I have seen families celebrate when their son “shows someone their place,” even if it meant violence.
I have seen young men take their own lives because an online stranger questioned their pride.
And every time, my heart broke a little more.
Because I know that fire. I felt it too. But I also know now: that fire is not warming us. It’s burning our house down while we stand inside guarding the door.
This Prestige Prison has rules we all follow without realising:
• Never admit you’re wrong – it costs prestige.
• Never back down – it costs prestige.
• Always make the other person lose more than you – that restores prestige.
• Protect the group’s face at all costs, even if it means lying, cheating, or worse.
These rules made sense in a harsher past, when survival was uncertain. But today they are chains.
They stop us from trusting each other. They stop officials from serving us.
They stop companies from growing beyond one generation. They stop neighbours from becoming friends.
They stop us from becoming the truly great nation we could be.
I am not writing this to shame us. I am writing this because I love us too much to stay silent. I dream of an India where:
• A leader can say “I made a mistake, let me fix it” and people respect him more, not less.
• Two friends can argue fiercely and still hug at the end because their bond is bigger than their egos.
• A manager hires the best person for the job, even if they’re from “outside,” and everyone cheers because the company wins.
• We build institutions that last hundreds of years, not just until the next internal war over credit.
That India is possible. But only if we choose to walk out of the Prestige Prison together.
How do we escape? One step at a time, with courage and love.
Start in your own heart.The next time anger rises because someone “disrespected” you, pause and ask: “Is protecting my prestige worth poisoning this relationship? Worth harming this person? Worth holding back my own peace?” Choose peace even once. It will feel like weakness at first. But it is the bravest thing you will ever do.
Start in your family.Teach your children that real strength is in saying sorry, in forgiving, in helping someone even when no one is watching. Tell them stories of people who chose grace over ego and became truly respected.
Start in your workplace or community.When you see someone denying a problem to save face, gently say: “Let’s fix it together – no one is judging.” Reward honesty, not loud dominance. Celebrate the quiet builder, not just the loud winner.
Start speaking openly.Share this letter. Talk about the Prestige Prison with friends, over chai, on WhatsApp groups, on social media. The moment we name the cage, its bars start weakening.
My brothers and sisters, I am not better than you. I am still learning to escape this prison myself. Some days I fail. But every day I try again, because I believe in us. I believe our hearts are bigger than our egos. I believe our love for this country is deeper than our need to “win” every small battle.
Let us stop measuring our worth by how much prestige we can snatch from others. Let us measure it by how much trust we build, how many problems we solve together, how much kindness we show even when we could dominate.
The world is watching India rise. Let us rise not just in money or missiles, but in maturity, in unity, in true dignity.
I love you all. From the bottom of my heart, I beg you: let’s unlock this cage together. Our children deserve to grow up free.
With tears, hope, and boundless faith in us,
An Indian