The burnout

**April 7, 2026 — 1:45 AM**

Just closed the laptop. The fan is still whirring like it's out of breath, which makes two of us.

I looked at my payslip today when the notification popped up. The number is objectively ridiculous. If I showed that number to my 22-year-old self, the kid who was grinding through LeetCode in a cramped PG, he would have thought we'd made it. We conquered the mountain.

Instead, I’m sitting on the balcony of a 3 BHK in DLF Phase 5 that feels less like a home and more like a very expensive transit lounge. I just sleep here.

We had another "urgent alignment" call with the US team tonight. Another sprint that feels like a marathon you're forced to run at a sprinter's pace. The money is great, sure. The golden handcuffs are heavy, but they *are* gold. Yet, I can't shake this constant, low-grade hum of anxiety in my chest. Every company town hall feels like waiting for a diagnosis. *Resource optimization. Strategic restructuring. AI efficiency integrations.* Corporate speak that just means, "some of you won't be here next quarter, and you better fight for your spot."

You claw your way to the top of the food chain at a tier-one tech giant, only to realize the branch you're sitting on is actively being sawed off. You aren't indispensable; you're just expensive.

Mom called yesterday evening. She asked the usual sequence of questions: "Are you eating on time? When are you visiting? Have you looked at the matrimonial profiles I WhatsApp'd you?"

I gave her the standard answer: "I'm just really slammed at work right now, Ma."

The truth is, I'm not just slammed; I'm completely hollowed out. I don't have the emotional bandwidth to date, let alone build a marriage. How do you explain to a potential partner that your mood, your weekends, and your entire sense of self-worth are currently tethered to a Jira board and a quarterly review from a VP who barely knows your last name? My friends here are all in the same boat—we meet up at Cyber Hub once a month, down overpriced craft beers, complain about our managers, and pretend we aren't all desperately exhausted.

This was the dream. The Gurgaon skyline, the premium corporate badge, the restricted stock units. But lately, it just feels like a very well-compensated punishment. I spend 12 hours a day debugging enterprise architecture, but my own life is throwing critical errors and I have no idea how to fix the code.

I need to figure something out. Not tomorrow—tomorrow I have a 9:00 AM standup. But soon. Before the burnout stops being a phase and just becomes who I am.