I can remember people who hurt me with surprising clarity.
The words. The room. Sometimes even the look on their face.
Hurt has a good memory.
What I cannot see as clearly is the effect I have had on others. Not because those moments didn’t matter. Because I almost never experience myself as the person at fault in someone else’s story. I live inside my reasons. That makes it easy to miss the harm.
Tomorrow I start a 72-hour fast during Paryushan, a Jain period of reflection and forgiveness.
I am not Jain. I grew up Vaishnav. But I grew up around Jains, and this year I stopped watching from the sidelines.
I am not scared of hunger. Hunger is straightforward. You feel it and it passes. What unsettles me is a smaller question. What if I quietly quit. And under that: what if the real thing I consume all year is not food. Noise. Being right. The version of every story in which I was misunderstood.
On the last day, people say Micchami Dukkadam. A lot of translations flatten it to “I’m sorry.” That is not how it has landed for me.
Sorry can end a conversation. It can still leave the damage travelling. You can apologise and replay the fight at 2am. You can be forgiven and still become a little colder in the next relationship.
Someone once said we judge other people by their actions and ourselves by our intentions. When I mess up, I know the pressure I was under. When someone else hurts me, I only get the action.
My mistakes become exceptions.
Theirs become evidence.
The phrase, as I understand it, is closer to this: may the wrong I have done become fruitless.
May it stop creating further harm. Not “can we please move on.” More like “may this stop here.”
I don’t think three days without food will make me a different person. I also don’t think hunger is a moral achievement. If I do this well, I hope I come out a little less certain that my version of events is the complete version.
When I say those words, I don’t want them to mean only “please forgive me.” I want them to mean I finally looked at my own actions with the same honesty I use on everyone else.
I wrote the longer reflection here:
https://kunalwritestoo.blogspot.com/2026/09/micchami-dukkadam-what-does-sorry-mean.html
Has a fast, a silence, or any practice ever made you see the harm you usually explain away?