Musings of an Anonymous Indian

~January 2026 blog

25 is the age when most people go on a quarter-life crisis. When I was young (or the age when 25 seemed far to me), I heard of the phrase ‘quarter-life crisis’ in media. I used to go through media portraying this, like- the person was 25 years old and was not satisfied with what they were doing, they were not satisfied with the job they had, they were suffering through burn-out, you name it. 25 used to be the age when most of the adults would get their first serious jobs, and were already turning to be settled. And here I am, a 25-year-old (turned this January), who hasn’t got any adult achievement to show. Well, except for my Masters’ Thesis, about which I’m not most proud of. It also has been a sort of revelation- the year that I turned. That I am not the child/teenager I once was and my mistakes would neither be forgiven nor forgotten.

I was always a serious child- or as adults used to say of me. They used to see an obedient, servient, studious child, and say that she would do good in future. If she would work hard, she would make name for herself, and make her parents proud of her.

I have lived for 25 years in this world (and counting), with nothing to my name, and I’m living with my parents, them thinking that when will this daughter of theirs will be standing on her own two feet.

My parents want me to have a job and earn money, so that I could survive in this world without them. Which is a very valid thought process, and a valid expectation. They still think of me as an adult-child- I am very much an adult, but they still think that I can’t live as an adult in this adult world.

Early 20s were like my teenager years, without me being a teenager. Like, I am beginning to understand how the world works, how the adults work, and how the 20s are really different from the children that we were and the teenagers that we were. In most of the media, people start rebelling and asking questions in their teenager years. I feel like I was stunted in my growth, and I started to have questions in my late-teenager to early-20 years. I am still in my teenager-self, for I am rebelling against the idea of billionaires and the capital hoarding. I am questioning and thinking of the poverty still not being relieved by the government. I am still questioning my ideas and thoughts regarding feminism, and how can we bring all these ideas together for an empathetic and loving community, that would also, take care of diverse people. I am questioning my parents’ thought process and how they took care of me in my childhood.

My birthday being close to New Year, make me feel that the last year reflections also sort of become my birthday reflections. The lived experiences of the year that happened, are almost similar, with a few days difference. Thus, my birthdate becomes the first day of my new year. It bring along my need to try to recap the year that was, the books that I read, the movies that I watched and the shows that I thought about. I do all these things in the first week of January. January 2026 was about new beginnings- or as new beginnings it could be said. I planned some goals to achieve; I made some resolutions to practise; I planned for the systems to achieve those goals.

Yet, here we are, in February. I did some things; I didn’t do some things. I was supposed to write this blog for January, but here I am, writing this when almost a month has passed for it.  

The first week of January was colder than the previous years, and it made me think of the winter as an analogy of old-age, written by the poets and the writers. It made me a little scared of the winter perhaps, because my father was sick for a week or so due to cold. It was scary watching him withering and shivering in the cold. It was the first time I felt the cruelty of the winter. Never before I found winter, so harsh a season. The winter finally came to its embers, and my birthday approached. My birthday this year brought happiness and wishes from people I cared about. I was happy making two cakes with my mother, with my interest in making cakes further increasing.

My 25^th year finished with me being happy for who I am and what I became, as well as, little bit of anxiety-ridden quarter-life crisis. The crisis of understanding myself and not inclining to what the society says; the crisis of my self-esteem and my belief in the society. I was grieving my childhood, my upcoming adulthood (despite being adult for 7 years, since 18) and my past self and grieving about myself.

Despite all these anxiety-ridden thoughts about adulthood, I also had fun. Having fun with people you feel safe to be yourself, to people with whom you can belong, was something I realised to be essential for a good living. I also recognized that I am lacking out on practising empathy for peer humans. The world is turning for the worst, but we need hope and community and love to make this world a better place for the people who are living, as well as people who will be there.

I didn’t realise that my quarter-life crisis will also make me realise that I lack not only in practising empathy, but I don’t get angry enough at the humans’ cruelty. It also made me realise that perhaps, I am having a coming-of-age moment in my mid-20s, with realising that, I need to become an adult that stand up for what I believe in, fight for what I believe in, and not wait for people to help me.

Having quarter-life crisis and coming-of-age transition in your mid-20s, is something I didn’t know that I will reckon with at the same time. I used to think that I had already transitioned from childhood to adulthood. I was yet to figure out that perhaps, 18-year-old is just an age, and it does not give you enough experience to be an adult. That you can experience coming-of-age at any time of your life.

My start of adult life feels so far away, and yet, I feel not an adult. It is only when I see a child, do I think that I am an adult now. Finishing 25 is the year of becoming serious. Or as serious as I can be. Quarter-life crisis feels like crisis because of the trajectory of life that didn’t happen according to what we think, and we feel lost. I have been feeling lost since I finished 20 years. At the same time, I feel that if I don’t succumb to the societal pressure, if I diligently try to know myself, I might do something with my life.

Celebrating the day of my birth and finishing 25 years in this world, I thought of my own quarter-life crisis. Yes, perhaps I get anxious about my future without my parents, and this crisis isn’t debilitating to me, but I do realise that this crisis is what might give me time to think about myself and my life.