When the Click Happened: Sharma Ji Ka Ladka

In my first session with him, he asked

"Have you heard of Sharma ji ka ladka?"

I laughed and said - of course.

He smiled and said -"I am that ladka."

He continued-

We all laugh at the joke. We pass it around at dinner tables and family gatherings.

But somewhere in the middle of all that laughter there is a child.

Quietly carrying a title he never asked for.

The pressure to be perfect. To top every exam. To be good at everything, always. To never let the standard slip because the standard has a name now and that name is his.

He had been that child for as long as he could remember.

And by the time he sat across from me, the weight of it had settled deep.

Not dramatic. Not loud. Just heavy.

As we moved through the session, we gently set the title aside.

Not the achievements. Not the person he had become. Just the burden that had been placed on a child who was too young to refuse it.

And we spoke directly to that child.

Not to Sharma ji ka ladka.

To him.

The boy who had just wanted to be seen.

Not compared. Not held up as an example.

Just seen.

There was a long exhale in that moment.

The kind that tells you something has been held for far too long.

That sigh stayed with me after the session.

Because so many of us are walking around carrying titles that were never ours to carry.

Given to us with good intentions. Wrapped in pride and expectation. But heavy all the same.

And sometimes the most healing thing is simply to put it down.

To speak to the child underneath the title and say this was never your burden. You were always enough without it.

Is there a title or expectation you are still carrying that was never really yours to begin with?