We need to talk about perfectionists—the ones who straighten crooked paintings, rearrange bookshelves at dinner parties, and critique your chai-to-milk ratio. They’re everywhere, quietly judging, tweaking, and micromanaging our beautifully imperfect lives.
It’s time to take drastic action: let’s pack them onto rockets and send them to Mars. The barren, dusty red planet offers a pristine canvas where nothing spills, nothing grows, and no one is ever late. It’s perfect for them. They can align craters, alphabetize Martian rocks, and debate dust storm patterns without disrupting humanity’s charming chaos.
Imagine perfectionists on Mars, armed with clipboards, laser levels, and detailed spreadsheets. By week two, they’d be debating whether the colony’s flag should be Pantone Mars Red or Dust Storm Beige. By week four, subcommittees would be formed to review rock categorization protocols.
On Mars, they could live their minimalist dreams: no clutter, no mismatched socks, no toddlers smearing jam on sofas. The planet’s emptiness would be their clean slate—a place to micromanage without end.
Meanwhile, Earth would thrive on its glorious imperfections. We’d host dinner parties with slightly burnt samosas, mismatched plates, and playlists jumping from Bollywood hits to Kenny G. Holi colours that never quite wash out, weddings starting hours late, and cricket matches played with random household items would feel even more special.
Earth’s beauty lies in its chaos. Creativity, humour, and connection are born from imperfection. Would you trade a chaotic family gathering for a sterile, picture-perfect brunch? Would you swap a spontaneous road trip for one planned down to the last fuel stop? Without a little mess, life loses its flavour—like biryani without the masala.
Perfectionism masquerades as virtue but is a trap. It demands more while giving nothing but anxiety in return. It whispers that your rangoli isn’t symmetrical, your resume isn’t polished, or your parenting isn’t Instagram-worthy.
Earth, however, is designed for surprises—sudden rainstorms, unexpected guests, and slightly over-salted dal. The next time someone critiques your messy desk or asymmetrical haircut, remind them that happiness isn’t found in straight lines. And if they disagree? There’s a rocket to Mars with their name on it.
Here’s how to free yourself—or survive the perfectionists in your life:
1.Lower the bar.
In India, we celebrate “good enough.” Is your dosa shaped like Australia? Perfect—it’s geography class and breakfast in one. Globally, simplify life: your PowerPoint doesn’t need animations, and your dinner party doesn’t need artisanal bread.
2.Laugh at the mess.
Indian weddings are the ultimate celebration of chaos: late baraats, DJs playing the wrong songs, and chutney spills on outfits. But these “mistakes” become cherished memories. Globally, embrace life’s quirks, whether it’s burnt toast or cats crashing Zoom calls.
3.Celebrate scruffy hospitality.
Indian hospitality is about warmth, not perfection. Guests show up unannounced? There’s always chai or leftover samosas. Globally, stop obsessing over spotless homes or five-star meals. Your guests came for you, not your cutlery arrangement.
4.Let go of the future.
Perfectionists overprepare: “What if this goes wrong?” In India, we live by dekh lenge (“we’ll figure it out”). Caterer missing? Someone calls the halwai. Baraat lost? Someone drops a pin. Trust that future-you is resourceful.
If they decide Mars is “too dusty” or “craters lack Feng Shui,” give them impossible tasks—like folding fitted sheets or designing a universally accepted chai recipe. Meanwhile, we can return to enjoying life: slightly unplanned, slightly messy, and fully human.
Earth doesn’t need perfection; it needs to be lived. Whether it’s a cricket match in Mumbai, a backyard barbecue in Boston, or spilled wine at a Paris dinner, the magic lies in the chaos.
So let’s send perfectionists to Mars, where they can chase symmetry. Here on Earth, we’ll celebrate crooked smiles, burnt parathas, and spontaneous moments that make life extraordinary.
Cheers to imperfection—it’s what makes us human.
(The author is the DGP and Head of Haryana State Narcotic Control Bureau.)