Work isn’t just about getting things done anymore. It’s about proving how much you can endure. If you’re not exhausted, you’re not working hard enough. If you’re not overburdened, you’re not committed. If you’re not suffering, you’re not serious.
This mindset infects workplaces across India—whether it’s a family-run business where employees are expected to slog without question, a startup where burnout is repackaged as hustle, or a government office where inefficiency is not a flaw but a way of life. Misery isn’t an accident. It’s the system.
The Laala Business Model: Where Guilt Is a Management Strategy
The traditional Indian business—run by the old-school trader class—operates like a fiefdom. Employees aren’t professionals; they are subjects. The unspoken rule is that work should feel like a struggle. If you leave on time, you must not be working hard enough. If you ask for a raise, you lack gratitude.
There’s no concept of productivity—only presence. It doesn’t matter what you accomplish as long as you’re at your desk from morning to night, looking busy. Mistrust runs so deep that employees are watched, questioned, and kept on tight leashes. CCTV cameras aren’t there for security; they’re there to make sure you’re not “slacking off.”
Growth is a mirage. Promotions don’t exist in any real sense. The only way forward is to take on more work without expecting more pay. And when the inevitable burnout comes, there’s no restructuring—just replacement. The machine keeps running, powered by the next batch of overworked employees.
Startups: The Cult of Burnout
If laala businesses make suffering mandatory, Indian startups make it aspirational. This is where misery is marketed as passion.
The ideal employee is the one who works late, answers emails on weekends, and brags about their 18-hour days. If you’re not drowning in work, you must not believe in the vision. There’s no room for balance, only sacrifice. Work-life balance is a joke—if you mention it, you “don’t get startup culture.”
The chaos isn’t a bug; it’s a feature. No processes, no clarity, no structure—just constant firefighting. Employees spend more time fixing avoidable mistakes than building something meaningful. Founder worship keeps it all in place. The CEO, who hasn’t taken a day off in three years, is the gold standard. Employees are expected to follow suit, even though they don’t own a single share of the company.
Most startups don’t fail because of market competition. They fail because they burn out their own people before they ever figure out a sustainable model.
Government: The Original Misery Factory
If laala businesses exploit workers and startups disguise suffering as ambition, the government institutionalizes it.
The inefficiency isn’t accidental. It’s engineered. A process that could take one step will take five. A form that could be filled online will require multiple visits to an office. A signature that could be given instantly will be delayed, just because it can be.
Officers don’t solve problems—they create them. The system is designed to make people suffer, to exhaust them into compliance. The more time you waste chasing paperwork, the less likely you are to push back. And unlike businesses, where at least there’s some pressure to be profitable, government offices have no such motivation. The machine runs no matter how broken it is.
Why This Culture Persists
Because misery is control.
In family-run businesses, it keeps employees too drained to question anything. In startups, it keeps workers addicted to the illusion of future rewards. In government offices, it keeps citizens at the mercy of bureaucrats who decide how hard or easy their lives will be.
The people at the top benefit. Everyone else is just trying to survive.
Escaping the Misery Trap
Not every workplace runs on suffering. The best ones trust their employees, reward actual productivity, and don’t mistake exhaustion for efficiency.
The culture of misery isn’t some natural law. It’s a choice. A bad one. And it’s time to stop making it.