By Neeti Paul Sethi
Yesterday, I noticed a lot of people using this phrase and asking for forgiveness.
Micchami Dukkadam.
Khamat Khamna.
It made me curious, so I did some research.
And what I discovered was beautiful.
What does Micchami Dukkadam and Khamat Khamna mean?
Micchami Dukkadam is a Prakrit phrase from Jain tradition. It is used to seek forgiveness for any harm or wrongdoing we may have caused—knowingly or unknowingly, through our thoughts, words or actions.
Khamat Khamna is another traditional expression of seeking forgiveness and extending forgiveness to others.
These words are primarily used around Samvatsari and Kshamavani, associated with the end of Paryushana.
But beyond the words and the ritual is something deeply human:
Letting go.
Letting go of anger.
Letting go of ego.
Letting go of grudges.
Letting go of guilt.
And choosing peace instead.
How do you respond?
When someone says Micchami Dukkadam to you, you can respond in the traditional way:
“Uttam Kshama.”
It means supreme forgiveness and reflects the idea that forgiveness is mutual—you forgive them, while also asking them to forgive you for anything you may have done.
Or simply say:
“Micchami Dukkadam to you and your family as well.”
“Sabhi ko Khamat Khamna, Micchami Dukkadam.”
Or even:
“No grudges at all. Micchami Dukkadam from my side too.”
Because the essence isn’t in getting the words exactly right.
It is in meaning them.
Can anyone practise this?
While Micchami Dukkadam comes from Jainism, the practice of seeking and giving forgiveness is universal.
You don’t have to follow Jainism to pause and ask yourself:
Whom have I hurt?
What am I still holding on to?
Whom do I need to forgive?
And where do I need to forgive myself?
You could do this at the end of the year, on your birthday, during a festival, or simply whenever you feel the need to start afresh.
Reach out to someone.
Say, “If I have hurt you in any way, knowingly or unknowingly, please forgive me.”
And don’t forget yourself.
Self-forgiveness is also a part of letting go.
What We Practise in Sanatan Tradition
In Sanatan practice, at the end of a yagya, we seek forgiveness and forgive all, with Yagya Bhagwan as our witness.
There is something very symbolic about doing this at the end of a yagya.
The sacred fire becomes a reminder of transformation.
We surrender the five vices—lust, anger, greed, attachment and ego—to the fire.
In a way, we are saying:
“I don’t want to carry these energies with me anymore.”
And as we surrender, we seek blessings, connection and guidance—to move forward with greater awareness, clarity and a cleaner intention.
For me, this is what makes rituals meaningful.
It is not simply about performing a particular action because it has been done for generations.
It is about understanding what that action represents.
When we understand the intention behind a ritual, it stops being just a ritual.
It becomes a practice of inner transformation.
Different religions have their own beautiful practices, and I love exploring and understanding them whenever I get the chance.
Because ultimately, it is the intent that matters.
And I think this is also important when we pass traditions on to the next generation.
Instead of simply asking children to follow a ritual because “this is what we do,” let’s explain why we do it.
When they understand the significance, there is a greater chance that the practice will stay with them—not as an obligation, but as something meaningful.
No matter which practice or faith you follow, seeking and giving forgiveness is a beautiful way to let go.
To cleanse your mind.
To release what you have been carrying.
To soften your heart.
To surrender your intentions and actions to the Universe.
Whether you see it as religious, spiritual, or simply a healthy practice for a more balanced life —
forgiveness is good for us.
Maybe that’s why different traditions, in their own beautiful ways, keep reminding us of the same thing:
Don’t carry what no longer serves you.
Ask for forgiveness.
Give forgiveness.
Forgive yourself.
And then, let go.


