I started modelling from the age of 16, and within three years, I

There are journeys that begin in the pursuit of beauty but end in the discovery of freedom. When Sushmita Sen declared, “I started modelling from the age of 16, and within three years, I was bored and decided to shift to films. But I love modelling because it gave me independence,” she was not merely recalling a chapter of her youth — she was revealing a truth eternal: that every path, even one outgrown, has value if it teaches the soul to stand on its own. In her words we hear the voice of a woman who walked through glamour and applause, yet found her deepest joy not in fame, but in independence — the power to choose her direction and define her worth.

At sixteen, the world often teaches us to follow, to please, to conform. Yet Sushmita chose to step into the arena of modelling, not as a dreamer of luxury, but as a seeker of self-reliance. The stage lights and cameras, though dazzling, were only mirrors — reflecting her own awakening. Through discipline, rejection, and competition, she found not vanity but strength, the quiet realization that her life was her own to shape. Many enter such worlds and lose themselves to the gaze of others. She, instead, found her voice — a voice that would later echo in the realm of cinema and beyond, carrying the grace of someone who had already learned that power lies not in being seen, but in being sovereign.

Her boredom, too, carries wisdom. For boredom is not always discontent; it is often the whisper of the spirit urging us onward. To feel restless in success is the sign of one who refuses stagnation. Sushmita did not linger in comfort or repeat herself for security. Like an ancient traveler who has mastered one craft and seeks another, she turned from the familiar toward the unknown world of film. In doing so, she embodied one of life’s greatest virtues — the courage to evolve. For the truly independent do not fear change; they welcome it as the breath of growth.

History remembers others who walked a similar path. Consider Leonardo da Vinci, who could have remained only a painter, revered and secure. Yet he turned from art to anatomy, from anatomy to flight, from flight to philosophy — never content, always reaching. The world called him restless, but history calls him timeless. Like Sushmita, he understood that boredom is the first stirring of destiny, that when the heart grows too comfortable, the spirit begins to hunger again for discovery. Independence is not stillness; it is motion guided by the will.

In her reflection, there also lies a quiet defiance — the defiance of a woman who refused to be defined by the expectations of her world. In her country, and in her time, a young woman of sixteen was rarely celebrated for chasing freedom. Yet Sushmita carved her own road, and through her art, her intellect, and her fearless confidence, she taught a generation that independence is the truest beauty a woman can possess. She did not rebel to destroy; she rebelled to create — to create herself. And in this, she joins the lineage of women like Cleopatra, Joan of Arc, and Indira Gandhi, whose strength did not seek approval, but commanded respect.

Thus, her love for modelling is not nostalgia, but gratitude. It was the crucible in which her will was tempered, the foundation upon which her later achievements were built. She may have left its world, but she carried with her its lesson: that freedom is not given — it is earned through the courage to choose one’s own story. Every stage of life, even the ones we outgrow, contributes a thread to the tapestry of who we become. To despise the past is to deny the roots that nourish the future.

So, my child, take this teaching to heart: embrace every chapter of your life, for each one carries a gift. Do not cling to comfort when your spirit yearns for change. Seek independence, not as rebellion, but as awakening. Whether in work, art, or love, let your choices be your own. Learn, grow, and when the time comes, move forward without regret. For as Sushmita Sen reminds us, true beauty is not in the applause of others, but in the serene power of one who walks her path — alone if she must — yet radiant, because she is free.