Addiction, the Hungry Ghost, and the Emptiness We Keep Feeding
A shocking story, and a larger problem
Friends, a little while ago I came across a piece of news that honestly shocked me. You may have heard it too. A young man from Bihar—what you would probably call lower middle class, or maybe somewhere around that modest middle-class reality—ended up under a debt of ₹96 lakh. Ninety-six lakh. Almost one crore rupees.
Why?
Because he got trapped in an addiction: online gaming.
The same online gaming ecosystem that is advertised everywhere. The same one promoted by major celebrities and cricketers. The same one that is sold to people as harmless fun, entertainment, excitement. He got so deeply trapped in it that he began borrowing money. The fees that had been paid for his tuition, the money his family had saved and handed over for his B.Tech education—he put all of that into online gaming. Everything was ruined.
The situation became so bad that he reportedly got involved in fraudulent activities as well. His mental state deteriorated. He stopped speaking properly with people around him. His relationships and social ties started collapsing. Naturally, all of this must have been mentally exhausting. And things reached such a dark point that he even attempted suicide.
This came out when a News18 anchor, Prateek Trivedi, was taking what seemed like a random interview, and then this reality surfaced.
But the point is not just that one boy.
If you look carefully at Indian society today, you will see that many people are trapped in addictions—big addictions, small addictions, respectable addictions, shameful addictions. And these addictions are quietly, steadily, literally ruining lives.
That is why today’s conversation matters.
This is not just about “those” addicts. This is about all of us
Recently I was reading and listening to discussions around a book called In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts. At first I thought this would be a book only about extreme addiction, about people on the margins, about severe cases. But when I started learning more about the book, about its author, and about the ideas in it, I found them deeply interesting.
Because yes, the book talks about addiction—but it is not limited only to people we normally label as “addicts.” In fact, it is relevant to you, to me, to almost everyone living in modern society.
Why do I say that?
Because the author gives a very striking definition. He says addiction can be understood as any short-term behavior that gives us short-term pleasure, but harms us in the long term.
Listen to that carefully.
Any short-term behavior that gives us temporary pleasure, but causes long-term harm—that is addiction.
Now if you apply this definition honestly, then addiction is no longer a word reserved only for drugs, alcohol, or gambling. Suddenly it becomes a mirror. A very uncomfortable mirror.
Because then you and I both have to admit that we engage in many such behaviors. Things that feel good in the moment, give relief in the moment, distract us in the moment—but slowly damage our lives.
So when this definition is expanded, many different addictions begin to appear in front of us.
Eleven addictions hiding in plain sight
Now if I start naming different forms of addiction, I am almost certain that at least one of them will be found in your life, or in the life of someone around you.
Social media addiction.
Procrastination.
Addiction to consuming too much knowledge without action.
Addiction to unhealthy food.
Sedentary lifestyle.
Negative thinking.
Alcohol and other substances.
People-pleasing.
Impulse spending.
Poor time management.
Sleep deprivation.
All of these, by that definition, can fall under addiction.
And this is important, because many people imagine addiction only as some dramatic external collapse. But a person’s life can be damaged slowly as well. Quietly. Respectably. Through patterns that society almost normalizes.
So I really want you to think about this seriously: how many of these problems are there in your own life? And even if not in your life, then in the lives of people around you? Because if even one such pattern is there, then this entire conversation becomes relevant.
The “Hungry Ghost” and the endless hunger of modern life
There is a concept in Buddhist philosophy often described as the “Wheel of Life.” At the top there is heaven, where the most virtuous beings go. Below that are other realms. And one of these is the human realm, where there is neither total goodness nor total evil, but a mixture—a field of struggle, confusion, craving, suffering, and possibility.
Then there are darker realms too. But one idea that becomes especially powerful here is about “The realm of hungry ghosts.”
This is the concept from which the book takes its title.
What is a hungry ghost? It is a being that keeps consuming and consuming and consuming, but is never satisfied. No matter how much it takes in, it cannot fill itself. Its hunger remains. Its emptiness remains.
Is that not an extraordinary metaphor for our age?
People keep eating, scrolling, buying, chasing, watching, drinking, consuming, seeking validation, seeking thrill, seeking distraction—and yet remain empty. The stomach of the hungry ghost does not fill. The inner hole remains open.
That is why this concept is so useful. It helps us understand that addiction is not just about consumption. It is about insatiability. It is about trying to fill an emptiness with things that cannot truly fill it.
Addiction is everywhere—and society sees only one kind of addict
If you ask people to imagine an addict, what image comes to mind? Usually they picture a person taking drugs, intoxicated, visibly unstable, someone on the streets or someone in obvious crisis.
But that is only one image.
The author’s point is that addicts can also be highly functional, highly successful, even admired people. Sometimes their addiction is not to heroin or alcohol. Sometimes it is to power. To status. To work. To success. To domination. To achievement.
And here, there is a correction worth making: when an example comes up around historical obsession and conquest, the right reference is not Napoleon Hill. It is Napoleon Bonaparte.
The point being made is larger than one person. Society often celebrates certain addictions when they produce outward success. We glorify relentless ambition, compulsive achievement, obsession with winning, obsession with legacy. We do not always ask: what inner emptiness is driving this person? What are they running from? What are they trying to prove? What wound is hidden beneath all this conquest?
So the addict is not always the person we pity. Sometimes the addict is the person society praises.
What is “addiction culture”?
The podcast’s next important idea is about culture.
In science, especially in biology, the word “culture” can refer to a controlled environment in which microorganisms—fungi, bacteria, cells—are grown and maintained. If that environment supports life, the organisms thrive. If it becomes toxic, then those living things start becoming unhealthy or begin to die.
Now take that idea and apply it to society.
What kind of culture are we living in?
A healthy one? Or a toxic one?
The argument here is that we are living in a toxic culture—one that is deeply out of sync with actual human needs. Human beings need security, connection, affection, belonging, rest, meaning, and emotional safety. But the culture around us keeps pushing speed, comparison, insecurity, distraction, overstimulation, and performance.
So what happens? Anxiety rises. Depression rises. Loneliness rises. Disconnection rises. And addictions rise.
In that sense, addiction is not just an individual defect. It is also the result of an unhealthy social environment.
The childhood wound: what happens to a child becomes a pattern in the adult
The author also speaks from personal experience, and this is where things become very human. He talks about how traumatic his childhood was, during the Nazi period. His mother had to send him away in order to protect him, to save him. From the outside, this was an act of love and survival.
But what does a child understand?
A child does not understand geopolitics, war, fascism, historical catastrophe. A child experiences separation. A child may interpret it as abandonment. A child may think: maybe I am the reason. Maybe I was not worth keeping close. Maybe I am unsafe. Maybe love disappears.
This is one of the key insights: children personalize emotional reality. If the mother is stressed, the child may feel, “I caused it.” If the parent is happy, the child may feel, “I am the reason.” Children are not rational analysts. They are receivers of emotional atmosphere.
So when a child grows up with fear, instability, neglect, or emotional absence, that child does not simply “move on.” That child becomes an adult carrying certain beliefs: I am not enough. I must earn love. I must perform to matter. I must keep others pleased. I am safe only if I am useful. I am lovable only when I achieve.
And then later in life, many addictions grow on top of these old wounds.
Trauma is not only what happened. Trauma is also what did not happen
This is another very important point.
When people hear the word trauma, they think only of very dramatic bad events—violence, abuse, major loss, severe crisis. And yes, those are traumas. But trauma can also be something else.
Trauma can be what did not happen.
A child who needed comfort but was not comforted.
A child who needed affection but did not receive it.
A child who was frightened and nobody said, “It’s okay, I’m here.”
A child who needed one hug, one moment of protection, one sense of safety—and did not get it.
That absence can shape a life.
Sometimes the hole inside a person is not huge in a theatrical way. Sometimes it is simple and devastating. Maybe all that was missing was safety. Maybe all that was missing was one emotionally available adult.
And when that missing experience is not provided, the person may spend decades searching for substitutes.
Why punishment does not solve addiction
When society sees addiction, its instinct is often punishment.
Put them in jail. Shame them. Cut them off. Make them suffer. Teach them a lesson.
But one of the strongest arguments in this framework is that you cannot punish pain out of a person. If addiction is rooted in suffering, loneliness, trauma, inner fragmentation, and unmet emotional needs, then punishment very often intensifies the original problem.
If the reason someone became addicted was loneliness, then prison may deepen loneliness. If shame was part of the wound, public humiliation deepens shame. If the person already feels broken, then being treated as fully disposable only confirms the wound.
That does not mean harmful actions should be ignored. It means that if the goal is healing, then understanding matters more than moral grandstanding.
Someone once put this beautifully: you cannot end a person’s pain by punishing them for having pain. If you really want to reduce pain, you have to understand it.
That is the difference between a system that merely reacts and a system that actually heals.
Even the word “addiction” points to slavery
There is also a fascinating point about the word itself.
The idea is traced to a Latin root related to a person who fell into debt and could not repay it. Such a person could become enslaved. Bound. Claimed. Reduced to dependence and submission.
That history matters because it reveals something symbolic: the addict becomes a slave. Not necessarily to a master in the old physical sense, but to a behavior, a craving, a substance, a pattern, a compulsion.
And that image is powerful.
Many people today are walking around carrying chains they cannot even see clearly. Chains of phone use. Chains of approval-seeking. Chains of consumption. Chains of nicotine. Chains of lust. Chains of gambling. Chains of work. Chains of thought patterns.
They are walking, functioning, talking—but still bound.
Pleasure and pain: the two engines behind addiction
Another important point is that addiction is usually serving one of two functions: either it is chasing pleasure, or it is reducing pain.
Sometimes both at once.
That is why it is not enough to say, “This thing is bad, stop it.” You have to understand what that behavior is doing for the person. What need is it meeting? What discomfort is it softening? What emptiness is it covering?
Because if you only remove the surface behavior without understanding the root, then either the same addiction returns, or it gets replaced by another.
This is why root-cause thinking matters.
If someone has a cold, you do not just keep wiping the nose forever without understanding what is going on in the body. In the same way, addiction treatment cannot stop at visible symptoms. You have to ask why this person is needing this pattern in the first place.
The gambling brain: anticipation can be more intoxicating than winning
There is a very striking point made about gambling. When researchers studied what happens in the brain, an interesting pattern emerged. The brain did not simply light up at the moment of winning. In many cases, the strongest activation came in anticipation—in the betting, in the uncertainty, in the possibility.
That means the thrill is not only the reward. The thrill is also the suspense.
And suddenly many things start making sense.
Why do people keep returning to betting even after loss? Why does online gaming, online gambling, and speculative digital behavior become so sticky? Because the person gets hooked not only on the outcome, but on the emotional high of expectation.
In simple words: sometimes the excitement before the result is as powerful as, or even more powerful than, the result itself.
And this applies beyond gambling. Social media works this way too. Refreshing, waiting, checking, scrolling—the next thing might give pleasure. That anticipation becomes its own drug.
Loneliness is one of the biggest roots
Among the biggest drivers of addiction, loneliness stands out.
Why do people smoke, drink, binge, scroll, numb themselves, or keep returning to harmful patterns? Often because disconnection is unbearable. The act becomes a substitute companion. A ritual. A way of not being alone with oneself.
This also connects back to parents and families. Children absorb the emotional environment of the home very deeply. If parents are bitter, chronically stressed, emotionally absent, or full of unresolved pain, then children grow inside that climate.
And often, generational problems keep repeating like loops.
The weaknesses, wounds, emotional deficiencies, and unhealed patterns of one generation can flow into the next. Addiction sometimes brings these hidden wounds to the surface. In that sense, painful as it is, addiction can also become an opportunity—a golden opportunity for healing, for honest family conversations, for breaking old cycles.
But only if people are willing to talk.
Cue, routine, reward: how addictions are built
Now this brings us to the behavioral pattern.
A cue appears. Then comes a routine. Then comes a reward.
For example, imagine you have a friend with whom you always drink. Just seeing that friend becomes the cue. Meeting them, going to the same place, following the same pattern becomes the routine. Then drinking gives the reward.
Cue. Routine. Reward.
And this cycle is how habits and addictions become reinforced.
So if you want to weaken an addiction, you have to break this pattern somewhere. Reduce the cues. Change the routine. Replace the reward.
Do not meet the friend who always drags you into the same destructive behavior. Do not go to the same place. Do not follow the same script. Get a different reward—food, exercise, conversation, reading, movement, creative work, anything healthier.
This is also why environment matters so much. Recovery is not just about inner willpower. It is also about restructuring the pattern of life.
Treatment begins with one honest question
When it comes to treatment, the first question is not, “How do I stop?”
The first question is: what did I get from this behavior? And what was missing in my life that this behavior fulfilled?
That is a difficult question, but a necessary one.
Maybe the addiction gave you community. Maybe it gave you relief. Maybe it made you feel seen. Maybe it gave structure to your day. Maybe it numbed emotional pain. Maybe it made you feel alive. Maybe it helped you avoid despair.
Once you understand what function it was serving, then you have to replace it with something healthier that meets the same need without destroying you.
This is the core idea: nobody becomes addicted for no reason. There is pain somewhere. There is lack somewhere. There is a missing piece somewhere. The addictive behavior rushes in to fill that gap.
So healing is not just subtraction. It is replacement with care.
How to deal with addicted people: compassion, not superiority
From years of experience, the strongest message here is that the best way to deal with addicted people is compassion.
Not superiority. Not disgust. Not preaching.
Compassion means trying to understand the gap inside them, the wound inside them, the pain they are trying to manage. You may not be able to forcefully heal someone. But you can stop making them more ashamed of being hurt.
And that matters.
Because addicts are often already drowning in self-hatred, guilt, and humiliation. What they need is not always more scolding. Often what they need is to be seen without contempt.
If you are struggling yourself: a four-step process
Now if you yourself are dealing with an addiction or harmful habit, one practical process can help:
1. Notice the urge
The first thing is to notice that the urge is arising. Not after you have acted. Before.
2. Pause and observe
Do not immediately obey it. Watch it. Feel it. Notice what is happening in the body and mind.
3. Let it pass
If you do not act on every urge, something interesting happens: the wave rises, but then it starts fading. Its force weakens.
4. Repeat
Keep repeating this. Daily. Again and again. That is how one gradually builds distance from automatic compulsion.
This sounds simple, but it takes practice. Still, it is one of the most useful ways of reclaiming agency.
Support systems and leverage matter
We are social creatures. That is a fact.
If you are always around people who normalize your worst habits, then recovery becomes harder. If you are around people who normalize better habits, then recovery becomes easier.
Suppose you are addicted to the phone, but you spend time with people who naturally keep their phones away and read books. Over time, a social pressure appears. The environment itself begins helping you.
That is why support systems matter. Recovery is easier when you are not trying to do it in isolation.
There was also an example of someone who had a severe gambling problem from a young age, even borrowing against future income, making life miserable for himself. But what changed him was that he redirected that energy. Instead of gambling destructively, he got involved in flipping houses and real estate activity in a more constructive way.
Now, of course, not every replacement is equal, and not every story will look the same. But the principle is useful: sometimes an addictive drive can be redirected into a healthier channel if the underlying hunger is understood.
The deepest healing is inner healing
Still, all the tips and tricks in the world are not enough if inner healing does not happen.
That is the central point.
A person has to understand what hollowness exists within. What is missing. What pain remains unresolved. What love, safety, meaning, or emotional completion is absent.
Only when that inner gap is approached with honesty and care does deeper recovery begin.
Otherwise a person will keep jumping from one thing to another. From money to achievement, from achievement to pleasure, from pleasure to distraction, from distraction to more emptiness. And each time they will think: maybe the next thing will finally give peace.
Money can give comfort. Achievement can give satisfaction. Material success can absolutely make parts of life easier. But peace is something else.
Peace does not arrive automatically with deals, income, purchases, or status.
Spirituality, peace, and the path to healing
And here the speaker turns personal, and I think that matters. Because at some point this is no longer just theory.
For many people, real peace comes through spirituality. Through prayer. Through remembrance of God. Through religious practice. Through surrender. Through silence. Through returning to something deeper than the ego’s endless chasing.
This is not being said as a slogan. It is being said from lived experience: that the peace one gets from remembering God, from prayer, from devotion, from spiritual practice, is not the same as the temporary pleasure of earning more, closing bigger deals, or acquiring more material success.
Those things may feel good. But their effect is often superficial and temporary.
Deep peace is different.
And in a country like India, where spirituality still has meaning for millions, it is worth saying openly that for many people this can become a real path toward healing. Not the only path, but an important one.
Healthy anger, attention, and what we still do not know how to express
There is also a brief but important point about healthy anger. Many people in India do not know how to express anger in a healthy way. Either anger gets suppressed, or it comes out destructively. But learning how to feel and express anger cleanly, truthfully, and without self-destruction is part of psychological health.
There is also a reflection on attention deficiency and ADHD-like patterns—how when a person cannot fight, cannot flee, cannot resolve something, the mind begins scattering. Attention splinters. Focus collapses. The person starts moving from one thing to another.
These are not small matters. They remind us that many behaviors we casually judge may have deeper roots in stress, survival, and unresolved emotional states.
Final thought
So yes, this whole discussion may have begun with one shocking news story. But it does not end there.
It opens into a much larger question: what is addiction really, where does it come from, why are so many people trapped in it, and what would actual healing require?
If you are struggling with any major addiction, or if someone in your family is struggling—something that is damaging mental health, physical health, finances, peace, and relationships—then this conversation is not abstract. It is urgent.
The biggest takeaway is this: do not stop at the surface. Do not reduce addiction to weakness. Do not reduce healing to punishment. Look deeper. There is almost always pain. There is almost always emptiness. There is almost always something missing that the person has been trying to replace in the wrong way.
And if you can understand that, then recovery stops looking like mere control and starts looking like compassion, awareness, replacement, support, inner repair, and peace.
That is the real path.
And that is why this topic deserves much deeper discussion.
