Walking the Narrow Line: Responsibility vs. Freedom
February 11, 2025
In cricket, there’s a thin line called the crease. If a bowler crosses it, it’s a no-ball. Stay behind it, and it’s a fair delivery. That tiny line changes everything. Similarly, in life, we all face narrow lines that separate one side from the other, responsibility from freedom, right from wrong, or even joy from regret.
This blog isn’t about cricket, though. It’s about those narrow lines we encounter in life and how they shape our choices.
Two Sides of Fun
Let’s talk about fun. In my view, there are two distinct kinds, each with its own charm.
On one side, there’s the thrill of letting loose, dancing to loud beats, getting a little high, and living entirely in the moment. It’s spontaneous, energetic, and carefree.
On the other side, there’s the quiet joy of sitting with a cup of tea, reading a good book, and feeling the cool breeze in a serene setting. It’s calm, reflective, and enriching.
Here’s the interesting part: people on either side often criticize the other. The quiet reader might think, “What a waste of time, dancing and drinking! I’m gaining knowledge while they’re throwing their lives away.” Meanwhile, the partygoer might look at the reader and scoff, “How boring! All they do is sit with books, they don’t know how to live.”
But the truth is, both are valid forms of fun. It’s all about perspective. What brings one person joy might feel pointless to another, and that’s okay.
The problem arises when we judge one as better than the other or when we jump between the two without understanding what we truly want. Just like the narrow line in cricket, the line between fun and responsibility is one we must navigate carefully.
One evening, Kumar went to a DJ party. He smoked weed, sipped vodka, and danced like there was no tomorrow. The music was loud, the lights were dazzling, and for Kumar, it was the perfect night to unwind.
As he moved to the rhythm, someone called out, “Hello, sir! How are you?”
Kumar froze. The word sir felt like a slap in the middle of his celebration. His carefree energy vanished, and unease set in.
Who was this person? Why did a single word shake Kumar’s entire mood?
To answer that, let’s talk about the narrow line Kumar was walking that night.
Responsibility vs. Freedom
Life often asks us to choose between two sides of a narrow line. On one side is freedom — the ability to do whatever you want, without worrying about judgment. On the other is responsibility — the duty to uphold certain values and meet the expectations of a title or role.
Freedom is liberating. It’s living for yourself, making choices based on your desires. Responsibility, however, comes with limitations. It’s about making decisions not just for yourself but for those who rely on you, respect you, or look up to you.
Kumar’s night at the party was all about freedom. He was living for himself, enjoying the moment, and doing what felt good. But life isn’t always that simple. Sometimes, freedom clashes with responsibility, and we’re forced to decide which side we truly stand on.
So, why did the word sir shake Kumar to his core? The answer lies in who he is beyond the party. Kumar isn’t just a man seeking freedom — he holds a position of great responsibility.
Kumar is a teacher.
The person who called him sir was one of his students. At that moment, Kumar felt the weight of his title. As a teacher, he is a role model. His actions — both in and out of the classroom — set an example for his students.
To his students, he isn’t just Kumar. He is Sir. A teacher isn’t only expected to impart knowledge but also to guide, inspire, and uphold values. The respect that comes with the title requires a certain standard of behavior, both professionally and personally.
The Conflict
Does Kumar have the right to enjoy his personal life? Absolutely. Teachers are human too. They deserve to unwind and have fun.
But the reality is that some roles come with expectations that extend beyond working hours. Kumar’s actions that night weren’t wrong in the eyes of the law. But in the eyes of his students, they raised questions.
Would you, as a student, feel comfortable seeing your teacher in such a setting? Most people wouldn’t. We look up to teachers not just for knowledge but for values.
Here’s the dilemma: freedom allows Kumar to party, but responsibility demands that he consider the impact of his actions on others. A teacher isn’t just a person; they represent an entire community of educators. Kumar’s mistake wasn’t partying — it was forgetting the responsibility that comes with his title.
The Narrow Line
Kumar’s story teaches us an important lesson. If you want freedom, don’t take up roles that demand responsibility. But if you choose a role with responsibility, you must honor it — even when it feels limiting.
Life is full of narrow lines like this. Jumping back and forth rarely works. Instead, choose your side carefully and commit to it.
A king can’t act like a beggar — not because begging is wrong, but because the title of a king comes with certain values and expectations. Similarly, Kumar’s title as a teacher required him to uphold a standard that clashed with his actions that night.
The Final Realization
That night, Kumar learned a hard truth: his actions didn’t just affect him — they shaped his students’ perception of him and the values he stood for. The student who called him sir might never look at him the same way again. In that single moment, Kumar lost more than his mood — he lost the chance to inspire and guide his students in the way a teacher should.
It’s like a prawn covered in its own dirt pointing at other fish and calling them dirty. Kumar realized he had lost the moral ground to teach his students the values they deserved to learn.
If you carry a title, respect it. Whether you’re a teacher, a leader, or anyone with responsibility, your actions matter. They reflect not just on you but on the role you represent.
Choose your side of the line, and live it fully. Because once you cross that line, it’s not just your freedom or responsibility at stake, it’s the trust and respect of everyone who looks up to you.