Living Loud Lives with Soundproof Emptiness

Ever heard anything across a soundproof wall? No, right?
That is exactly what most of us seem to be going through.

A large number of people today are busy chasing professional titles—titles that look sassy and impressive on social media and sound smooth and regal when announced at gatherings. But the hollowness does not end there. It extends into a 24×7 cycle of brainstorming, hustling, and pretending to be passionately “into it.” Students prepare and fight examinations, interns beg for exposure and stipends, employees sabotage their schedules for career growth, managers seek compliance and respect—the list goes on endlessly.

But what does a human seek as an individual?

Survival, yes. That is the fundamental right of every creature on this land. Along with survival, however, comes happiness and the profound satisfaction derived from one’s work. Survival was never a chore. Living has slowly become one—performed with carefully crafted personas meant to shine in digital books and hooks of pretense designed to appear regal.

Cities look busy, energetic, and full of opportunity. Yet the truth is unsettling: the child back in a small town is also planning life far beyond their maturity. We romanticize cities as spaces of growth while ignoring how peaceful and majestic life can be between mountains, tea shops, and unhurried conversations. Somewhere along the way, we forget to ask what living actually means to us.

I found myself following the same old lines until I felt the urge to dig deeper into this question—curiosity, as always. Random conversations and the seemingly meaningless musings of children around us are quiet reminders of how soothing life once felt during our own childhood. Most of us experience this nostalgia, but rarely do we consider recreating it in the present.

With time, many abandon even the hope of trying. This is the effect of a cruel desire—to be the one on the chair. Being ambitious and productive is fundamentally different from obsessively acquiring titles. The latter builds a soundproof wall between the system of cognition and the soul of a person. No one hears the fracture within—not even the individual themselves. They are so consumed with filling up titles that they fail to recognize the opportunity cost: the gradual depletion of potential, happiness, and ultimately, survival itself.

Endurance and competence are admirable skills, and optimism toward one’s work is essential. But when ambition mutates into greed—to dominate, to rule, to erode another person’s happiness—it reveals nothing but emotional hollowness. A human without empathy cannot be a true leader. Such a life resembles virtual reality: convincing in appearance, immersive in illusion, yet fundamentally detached from what is real.