Mohan leaned against the parapet of my office terrace, the evening breeze tugging at his shirt. I handed him a mug of coffee I’d just made in my office, but he barely noticed, his thumb moving across his phone screen with fast typing.
"I’m exhausted," he sighed, not looking up at the city skyline stretching out before us. "I have three dates lined up this week. One near Esplanade, one in Master Canteen, and another in Cuttack. I’m already dreading all of them."
"Then why are you going?" I asked, blowing on my steaming coffee.
"Because if I stop, I’m alone. And if I’m alone, I’m failing." He paused, finally looking at me. "I ghosted Priya, by the way."
I flinched. Priya was the graphic designer from Saheed Nagar he’d been seeing for a month. "Mohan, you can't just vanish. That’s awful."
"It’s not awful," he defended, the defensive posture of the modern dater kicking in. "I’m just doing me. I need to prioritize my own happiness. I’m exercising my freedom."
I took a sip of the coffee; strong, black, just how we liked it—and leaned in. "Mohan, you’re quoting the gospel of 'Self-Care,' but you’re missing the fine print. Freedom isn't a license to cause emotional wreckage just because you're bored or restless. It has boundaries. Remember John Stuart Mill from our college days?"
"The philosophy guy?"
"Yeah, him. He had this idea called the Harm Principle. Mill believed we should have absolute freedom to do whatever we want—up until the point where we harm someone else."
"I didn't harm her," Mohan scoffed. "I just didn't reply to her WhatsApp."
"You exercised power over her emotional state against her will," I countered gently. "You left her confused, anxious, and hurt because you were too cowardly to send a thirty-second text. Caring for the emotional wellbeing of your partner is non-negotiable. You can't inflict pain just because you need 'space.' In Mill’s world, your liberty to 'do you' ends exactly where Priya’s mental well-being begins. You aren't being free; you're just being a tyrant of the inbox."
Mohan slumped against the wall, staring at his screen. "Okay, fine. Point taken. But that doesn't fix the fact that I’m bored. I have fifty matches, and I feel nothing."
"That is because you are chasing what Mill called 'Lower Pleasures,'" I said, pointing at his phone with my mug. "He had a savage line for this exact feeling: 'It is better to be a human being dissatisfied than a pig satisfied; better to be Socrates dissatisfied than a fool satisfied.'"
"Are you calling me a pig?" Mohan asked, affronted.
"I’m saying you’re acting like one. Not you, but your strategy. Dating apps are designed to keep the 'pig' in us satisfied. They give us quick dopamine hits—matches, likes, superficial validation. It’s quantity over quality. But Mill argued that Higher Pleasures—intellectual connection, vulnerability, moral growth are the only things that actually sustain us."
"So I should just... be miserable?"
"No, you should be Socrates dissatisfied," I said. "You should be willing to be single and lonely—dissatisfied, rather than settling for shallow, swipe-based validation just to feel satisfied. You’re burnt out because you’re gorging on junk food and wondering why you aren't nourished."
A week later, Mohan called me. He sounded different. Calmer.
"I did something weird," he said. "I went on a date with that architect, Lipsa. We met at the Ekamra Kanan park. And instead of trying to impress her or follow the 'script,' I just... told the truth. I told her I’m burnt out. I told her I don’t know if I want to get married right away or just have a partner to explore Odisha with."
"And?"
"And we talked for four hours, walking all the way around the botanical gardens. She talked about how much she values her solo trekking trips to Koraput, and I realized I missed my own photography weekends. We agreed that a relationship shouldn't mean being glued together 24/7. It can be about giving each other space to pursue our own adventures while still coming back to share them. We realized that commitment is something you respect, not a cage you trap yourself in. It sounded crazy compared to the usual clingy romance, but then I remembered that thing you said about 'Experiments in Living.'"
"Yes!" I cheered. "Mill hated conformity. He thought society tries to force us all into one box, but we should be free to design our own lives. Maybe your happiness isn't the escalator of Date-Marry-Kids-Die. Maybe it's something you invent."
Mohan isn't "fixed." He’s still single, mostly. But the frantic swiping has stopped. He deleted the apps that made him feel like a satisfied pig. He texted Priya an apology (she left him on read, which he admitted was fair justice).
He is, for the first time in years, a little lonely. He is Socrates, dissatisfied. And he’s never been happier.
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