The Opposite of Practical

“Be practical.”

If I had a rupee for every time I heard that, I’d have enough money to ignore them all and still live exactly the way I do now.

I get why they say it. Life is brutal. Most people play defense. They want insurance, not adventure. “Be practical” is the shield handed to you by the already-defeated. Passed down like family silver, dented and useless, but still gleaming with caution.

But if I’d listened, I wouldn’t be here.
Not here as in “Mumbai.”
Here as in “alive.”

When you’re 17, quietly numb, body-image wrecked, ADHD, introvert, fresh off a suicide attempt, and you stand up in a class of 70 and say, “I want to do music,” you’re not practical. You’re either desperate or defiant, maybe both. I was both. The teacher laughed. Everyone laughed. I walked out knowing I’d never fit the blueprint, and somewhere in that humiliation, I made a blueprint of my ownak history.

People don’t tell you that “be practical” isn’t advice—it’s a mirror. It reflects their fear, their history, their failures. It’s what they wish they’d done differently. Or maybe what they regret never risking at all.

The irony:
Practical people rarely change anything.
Nobody writes songs about the safe choice. Nobody builds a legacy on “sensible.” Every statue you see was sculpted by someone who heard “be practical” and walked the other way.

I’m not saying burn your bridges and blame me for the ashes. You need just enough practicality to eat and sleep indoors. But if your soul ever feels itchy, or if the thing you want sounds dumb when you say it out loud—good. Chase it.

Practicality builds fences. Art kicks them down.

If I ever leave anything behind, let it be this:
The next time someone tells you to “be practical,” nod, smile, and do the exact opposite.

Or just say, “Thanks for the warning.”