You Can Do Anything. If You’re Willing to Pay the Price
I once visited a friend’s farm near Jaipur. He had what many dream of: open land, cows, homegrown food. No traffic, no office schedule. He’d even built a sports complex; tennis courts, swimming pool, gym and offered memberships to city folks looking for time in nature.
When I arrived, he was feeding his cows.
‘How’s life here?’ I asked.
He smiled. ‘Peaceful. But you clean cow shit twice a day. If the pump breaks, you fix it. There’s no municipal water.’
That was the truth. A beautiful life, but not a free one. He had paid for it. In effort, patience, and solitude. Most people could choose this life. They just don’t want to pay what it costs.
A few months later, when COVID hit, we moved to a quiet village above Bhimtal. Eight hundred people. Time slowed down. Snow in the distance. It felt like another world.
During evening walks, we met a couple who lived there full-time. They invited us for breakfast. Their house sat on a slope with a garden full of roses, tulips, and something fragrant I still can’t name. I told them I often imagined living like they did. No pollution, no rush, just peace.
The man walked me through the garden. ‘It’s calm,’ he said, ‘but last week a storm shattered our living room window. No one sells glass here. We had to order it from Delhi, 300 kilometres away. Last winter, the transformer blew. No power or heating for four days.’
That was the price. You want a quiet life in the hills. You wait when the power goes. You want peace. You take the storm too.
The good life isn’t without cost. It just comes with different problems. Most people don’t wish for this life. They wish for the version without the hard parts. But that version doesn’t exist.
It’s the same when you’re stuck in a toxic relationship or a job that drains you. You do have the option to leave. You can quit, walk away, begin again. But it costs something; maybe money, maybe loneliness, maybe starting from zero. The pain isn’t from being trapped. The pain comes from pretending you’re trapped when what you really are is afraid of the cost.
Naming the price won’t remove the difficulty. But it will reduce the confusion. The fog lifts. You stop asking, ‘Why is this happening to me?’ and start asking, ‘Do I want to pay for what comes next?’ That shift alone brings a strange kind of peace.
Mare bina swarg kabhi nahi milta. There is always something to give. Something to carry. Something to let go.
A honest life is one where you choose your limits instead of pretending you have none. One where you own your decisions instead of denying them.
Every ‘yes’ says ‘no’ to something else. Every freedom costs something. That’s life.
Most people aren’t stuck. They just don’t want to pay the price.
