Everything Is Sometimes Nothing

A reflection on childhood, discipline, privilege, and purpose

By Kajal Mehta

There was a time not so long ago when school wasn’t just a building, it was a temple of learning, A sacred space. Discipline was not feared, it was honoured.

I remember those days vividly. Punishments came in many forms, 100 squats in the sun, pulled ears, kneeling for hours, or even a cane across the calves, and yet, we didn’t complain not because we were afraid, but because we were taught to reflect before we reacted.

At home, our parents didn’t question the teachers, they trusted them. If you were punished, it must have been for your good and there was no entitlement, no rebellion just belief in a greater system, one that prioritised strength of character over ease.

Fast forward to today, children have more than we ever dreamed of. Before a desire even fully forms, it’s already fulfilled. Does a fan stop working? Crisis. Wi-Fi disconnects? Meltdown. A light goes off for five minutes? Catastrophe. Parents rush to fix every discomfort, not just to provide but to over-provide, to offer not just what’s needed, but more than what’s ever been asked for, yet there is sadness.

Mental health struggles are no longer rare. Globally, rates of depression, anxiety, and even youth suicide are climbing. According to the World Health Organization, suicide is now one of the leading causes of death among 15–29-year-olds.

So, what’s missing?

Maybe everything.

In trying to give our children the world, we may have unintentionally taken away the very things that make life rich and meaningful:

• Grit

• Gratitude

• The hunger for purpose

• The joy of earning

• The beauty of waiting

• The strength born from struggle

When everything is handed over, what is left to long for?

When discomfort is erased, how can resilience take root?

When desires are fulfilled before they even deepen, where does purpose begin?

In older times, hardship was not shameful, it was a teacher. Scarcity taught us priorities. Simplicity was sacred. Growth was earned, not downloaded.

Today, we are surrounded by abundance and yet we feel so empty.

This is not a call to glorify pain, it’s a reminder that a full life includes contrast, joy and sorrow, ease and effort, comfort and discomfort. Whether as parents, teachers, or caretakers of souls, we must pause and ask ourselves:

In our desire to give everything, have we taken away the fire that forges the soul?

So today, take a breath, be still, and ask yourself honestly:

• Am I giving too much?

• Or…

• Am I taking away the sacred gift of becoming?

Because sometimes, everything is nothing, and in the quiet spaces of “not having,” we often discover who we truly are.