Comedian Zakir Khan’s decision to postpone his performance until 2030 due to health concerns left his fans worldwide unhappy. Not long before that, singer Arijit Singh had also spoken about stepping back, citing the need to prioritise well-being. These sabbaticals may be indefinite. But what remains loud and clear is the growing conversation around mental health, and the need to reclaim identity beyond performance.
And this shift isn’t limited to celebrities. Across professions, from the armed forces to journalism to corporate boardrooms, high-achieving individuals spoke to indianexpress.com, revealing they stepped away not because they couldn’t make a mark, but because they still felt “something missing”.
So what does this transition really tell us? Does that success have little to do with how long you stick to one profession? Or that external validation cannot define inner fulfilment?
Former naval officer Captain Gaurav Gautam and his wife Vaidehi Chitnavis quit when they were at the helm of their careers. He had climbed the ranks. She had built a respected career in journalism. And with Kaeya Riva Gautam, their school-going daughter, life was smooth and stable. And yet, something wasn’t aligning. “We were three individuals growing,” Gautam recalls, “but in three different directions. Not together.”
Between desk jobs, deadlines, and school schedules, family time shrank into rushed weekends and calendar-coordinated dinners. “There was no trauma,” he says. “Life was good. But something was missing.” And that’s when they decided to fructify their
During the pandemic, when boat prices dipped and the world slowed down, the thought returned, this time with urgency, says Gautam. “If you’ve been daydreaming long enough, let’s do it,” Vaidehi told him.
In 2022, quitting their well-paying jobs, the couple chose the sea over a plush lifestyle to make the oceans their permanent home. “Thereafter, it took us a few months to sell everything we owned and get our ducks in a row before we moved on board our sailboat,” the couple says.
Today, they live full-time on a sailboat, arguably the only Indian family to adopt sailing as a permanent lifestyle choice. Their daughter studies at a boarding school in
And how is life treating them now? The first year was an adventure. The second year was stressful, thanks to mechanical failures, visa complications, family illness, 16-hour workdays, and financial constraints. “When it rains on land, you shut the door and sleep,” Gautam says. “Here, you can’t. If the wind picks up, the boat moves. There is no complete switch-off.”
At one point, the pressure became overwhelming. “I would smile for the camera,” he admits, “but internally I wasn’t okay.” He sought advice from fellow sailors and began breathwork and structured routines.
“I changed everything externally, country, home, job. But inner work is what helped most.” Their life today is harder than before. But, Gautam says, it is more meaningful. “If you reach there and still don’t find peace… then what?”
For Anisha Rathore, a former journalist, the realisation came not from adventure, but exhaustion. “I feel like grind culture has completely taken over India’s corporate world,” she says. “And not just corporate. Even government workplaces are adopting this hyper-corporate mindset.”
Late nights. Weekend calls. Constant availability. An unspoken rule that logging off on time signalled a lack of commitment.
“If you don’t respond immediately, you’re irresponsible. If you ask for leave, it’s as if you’ve asked for their lives.”
“You’re expected to sacrifice your personal life, your rest, your mental space. But when it comes to appreciation or compensation, that urgency disappears,” she continues. What disturbed her most wasn’t the workload
“I felt like I had no control over my time. Work culture became so toxic that it started affecting my mental health. I was constantly anxious.”
Three years ago, she chose to step back. “Not because I lacked ambition. But I needed mental peace. Sometimes stepping back is not a weakness. It’s self-preservation,” she says.
When asked if she misses working, Rathore gestured a no, elaborating that the sabbatical years helped her gain clarity about her future endeavours.
In 2018, Indrani Chakraborty quit her high-paying marketing job. Her husband Soumya Mukherji had already left his corporate role in 2016. They were successful, well-paid, and
“We were constantly travelling. Even when we were home, we were talking about work,” Indrani says. “Calls never stopped. It was taking a toll on our relationship.”
The tipping point came after a gruelling seven-month project that demanded everything from her. When recognition didn’t follow, the emotional crash did. That night, her husband said, “Let’s go back home.”
Today, they run Svanir Wilderness Ecostay near Bhubaneswar, Odisha, a nature-based homestay rooted in community tourism and local artisan support.
Their journey was anything but smooth. Cyclone Fani destroyed parts of the property just before launch. Then Covid halted operations. Savings evaporated. “There were breakdowns. Tears. No electricity for days,” she recalls.
Yet she insists she would not return to corporate life. “Even if you give me crores and crores, I will not trade my life… The peace and good night’s sleep are priceless.”
They now travel across Odisha researching crafts, support marginal artisans, and raise their son amid trees rather than traffic. “When you slow down,” she says, “you start seeing things you otherwise miss.”
Dr Rimpa Sarkar, a PhD in clinical psychology and founder of Sentier Wellness, , sees this shift as part of a larger psychological recalibration.
“High-performing individuals often have strong self-awareness and long-term vision,” she explains. “Many are recognising that constant output without recovery eventually leads to burnout, cognitive fatigue and emotional disengagement.”
According to Sarkar, sabbaticals are increasingly preventive, not reactive. “Instead of waiting to collapse, people are choosing to pause earlier to recalibrate their energy and priorities.”
Sarkar distinguishes clearly between burnout, healthy disengagement, and avoidance. Burnout, she says, is emotional exhaustion combined with cynicism and reduced effectiveness due to prolonged stress without recovery.
“The key difference lies in intention,” Sarkar notes. “Does the pause lead to clarity and renewal? Or further withdrawal?” Importantly, she emphasises that this shift isn’t about quitting ambition.
