From "I Should Have" to "I Have" - a path towards Nishkama karma

Somewhere along the way to fifty, news of someone's passing stopped being just news. It became a mirror. This piece comes from one such morning.

Over a lifetime, we meet people who quietly make life better: the friend who laughed at the right moment, the mentor who said the hard thing kindly. We thank the universe for them and promise ourselves we'll return the favour someday. Then life, that brilliant scheduler of everything except what matters, takes over. We drift apart, or they fade into the fine print of memory. The promise stays exactly where we left it: unkept, but very well intentioned.

Then the news arrives, and the "I should have" festival begins.

I should have called more often.I should have not fought over something so petty that I can't even remember it now.I should have tried to see their side.I should have invited them over, just once more.

Here's what I've noticed about this ritual. Some of it is genuine love. But a good part is my mind running damage control, assuring me that I'm a good person because I feel bad. It's a cheap receipt for a purchase I never made. Guilt, I've realised, is not the same as action. It just feels like it.

I'm nearing fifty, which seems a decent age to stop issuing receipts. I'd like to move from "I should have" to "I have." The payoff is a quieter mind, with settled thoughts instead of angst, pain, or a hollow echo.

The main thing I need to work on is my hesitation, which comes from old experience. One person didn't appreciate my gesture, and somehow I filed everyone else under the same folder. That's poor accounting. I've been carrying that baggage for years, and it's heavy and, frankly, a waste of good shoulder space. Time to put it down.

Today is Gandhi Jayanti, and by the Gregorian calendar, the birthday of Shri M K Gandhi. These days many of us either deify him or demonise him, depending on which side of the argument we woke up on. I prefer the title he gave his own autobiography: The Story of My Experiments with Truth. Experiments. He never claimed to have mastered truthful living. He faltered, rose, shared, and in many ways enriched the community of the people of Bharat. If the Mahatma was still experimenting, I can hardly claim to be finished.

So today I'm dedicating myself to nishkama karma: acting from care rather than calculation, without bargaining for outcomes. I'll try not to let my peace of mind be held hostage by results, and I'll cremate that baggage of memories, ceremonially and without sending anyone an invoice.

These are the Gita verses I lean on:

Chapter 2

कर्मण्येवाधिकारस्ते मा फलेषु कदाचन |मा कर्मफलहेतुर्भूर्मा ते सङ्गोऽस्त्वकर्मणि || 47 ||

You have a right to perform your prescribed duties, but you are not entitled to the fruits of your actions. Never consider yourself the cause of the results of your activities, nor be attached to inaction.

योगस्थ: कुरु कर्माणि सङ्गं त्यक्त्वा धनञ्जय |सिद्ध्यसिद्ध्यो: समो भूत्वा समत्वं योग उच्यते || 48 ||

Be steadfast in yoga, O Arjuna. Perform your duty and abandon all attachment to success or failure. Such equanimity of mind is called Yoga.

Chapter 3

तस्मादसक्त: सततं कार्यं कर्म समाचर |असक्तो ह्याचरन्कर्म परमाप्नोति पूरुष: || 19 ||

Therefore, without being attached to the fruits of activities, one should act as a matter of duty; for by working without attachment, one attains the Supreme.

Note that 2.47 explicitly includes "not attached to inaction." The Gita saw the "I should have" trap coming.

So here's my invitation: think of one person you've been meaning to call. Call them today, before the mirror shows up. And tell me in the comments how it went. Let's make this a community of people who say "I have."