On the 79th Independence Day of India, as the tricolor rises against the morning sky and millions sing Jana Gana Mana, we find ourselves once again celebrating स्वतंत्रता दिवस. But pause for a moment — what does स्वतंत्रता truly mean?

Does independence only mean that in 1947 the British left our shores and we began to rule ourselves? Or is independence something far deeper, something not merely political but existential?

In our shastras, tantras and philosophies, the word स्वतंत्रता is not just about political sovereignty. It points to the very core of being. In the tradition of Kashmir Shaivism, the word Svātantrya (स्वातन्त्र्य) refers to nothing less than the divine freedom of Shiva — the supreme consciousness.
Svātantrya is not the free will of a human being bound by conditioning and circumstance. It is the primal freedom, the original independence from which everything arises. It is the power by which Shiva creates, sustains, and dissolves the universe. It is not a freedom from something, but a freedom to — to create, to imagine, to be, to become.

If we want to understand what true independence means for India — and indeed for humanity — we must reframe our idea of स्वतंत्रता in the light of Svātantrya.

The way our ancients understood what it means to be a human being, what is a human being, what is his relationship with nature, what is nature, what is his nature and what is our role in the creation, what is our dharma, what can contribute to this beautiful creation and what we should and must contrubute – this is what makes us as Indians so different from the rest of the world.

The Divine Freedom of Consciousness

Kashmir Shaivism describes Svātantrya as the very essence of consciousness:

– Divine Sovereignty: The inherent power of Shiva to act freely, without constraint. The source of all manifestation.
– Energy of Consciousness: A dynamic vibration, Shakti, that brings forth the cosmos.
– Beyond Rules: Unlike human will, bound by law and limitation, Shiva’s freedom is absolute.
– Source of Illusion: It generates Maya, the veil of separation, yet also contains the seed of liberation.
– Grace and Liberation: Through Svātantrya, grace (Shaktipāt) awakens us to our divine nature.
– Beyond Duality: It holds together the manifest and the unmanifest, creation and dissolution, bondage and freedom.

The Śiva Sūtras proclaim:

“When universal energy is known in a correct way, it is simple svatantrya sakti. When it is known in the wrong way, it is energy of illusion and it is called maya sakti.”

This statement is revolutionary. It tells us that independence is not merely external. True freedom is the right understanding of universal energy. Misunderstand it, and we fall into bondage; understand it rightly, and we are free.

Independence Beyond 1947

Yes, India won political freedom in 1947. But are we truly free if we continue to live with borrowed identities, borrowed ideas, and borrowed ways of life?
“Svatantrya is your own will! If you bind yourself or if you free yourself, both are under your control.”

Political independence removed foreign chains, but spiritual ignorance still binds us. Our minds remain conditioned by alien categories. We are still trying to measure ourselves by someone else’s yardstick, forgetting that our own ancestors left us a map of freedom far more profound than any external liberation.

Udyamo Bhairavah: The Power of Active Effort

The Śiva Sūtras say:
“udyamo bhairavah // That effort — the flashing forth of active awareness — that instantaneously makes universal consciousness shine, is Bhairava.”

This is not passive effort. This is not waiting for history to change. It is udyama — a fierce, active, conscious effort that propels us into our own divine awareness.

This is what India needs today: the courage to ask fundamental questions — Who am I? What does it mean to be Indian? What does it mean to be a human being in harmony with nature and cosmos?

Without this inquiry, our independence will remain superficial. With it, स्वतंत्रता becomes Svātantrya.

The Yogic Vision of Freedom

The Svacchanda Tantra teaches:
“Oh Parvati, all mantras are successful for the one who contemplates on his own self as one with Bhairava, because he is always one with that awareness of consciousness (samavesa).”

The Spanda Kārikā adds:
“Take one thought. Contemplate on that one thought with unwavering concentration. Then, when another movement rises in your mind from that first thought, that is spanda and that is unmesa… and that will be spanda.”

Through such concentration, the yogi pierces ignorance and attains liberation. Independence, then, is not merely self-rule of a nation but self-mastery of the individual. A nation of self-realized individuals becomes a truly free nation.

Swacchanda and Swatantra: The Next Step for India

India must become both Swacchanda (self-willed) and Swatantra (self-defined). Only then can we shape our destiny not as an imitation of others but as an expression of our own genius.
“So, in the state of svatantrya sakti, there is no meditation… The play of creation, protection, and destruction is the recreation of svatantrya sakti.”

Our tradition envisioned Ardhanārīśvara — the union of opposites, the transcendence of duality. This is the vision India must hold before the world.

Nationalism based on conflict, on “us versus them,” is limited. But nationalism based on Svātantrya is expansive. It sees diversity not as a threat but as a flowering of unity. Our motto is clear: Lokāḥ Samastāḥ Sukhino Bhavantu — May all beings be happy.

Thus we need to destroy the ignorance that is keeping us in bondage. We have to develop the ability to contemplate on what we are, who we are, who we were, what it means to be Indian totally devoid of the impressions and influence of what is not us, what is not from us, free from borrowed ideas and borrowed identity.


We need to become Swachanda and Swantantra. India is now showing all the signs of heading in this direction. As Indians we need to support that effort.

One-Pointed Desire for the Good of All

The Svacchanda Tantra says:
“Lord Siva’s energy of will (svatantrya sakti) is one with devi (goddess)… concealed with the magic of yoga and, named Kumari, is desired by every being.”

Every being longs for this will — pure, undivided, one-pointed.
When we, as Indians, desire not only our own growth but loka sukha and loka hita — the happiness and welfare of all — no force in the universe can obstruct us.

“From svatantrya sakti arise the energy of will, the energy of knowledge, and the energy of action. And then all universal energies flow outward.”

This is the engine of destiny: will, knowledge, and action flowing from the center of freedom itself.

Toward a Higher Independence

So let us be clear: India will not be truly free until we rediscover Svātantrya. Political sovereignty was the first milestone. The final destination is spiritual sovereignty — mastery of the self.
This is India’s dharma. Not to dominate the world but to liberate it. Not to impose but to awaken. Not to conquer but to harmonize.

We are the natural born masters and inheritors of this knowledge that can help us understand Universal Energy in the correct way and for the benefit of the whole world. In that sense:

“Make India Great Again” = “Make the world great again” ; “Make the world peaceful again” ; “Make the world livable again.”

This is not a slogan of exclusion but of expansion — of taking our seat once again as the custodians of wisdom, as the natural-born masters of knowledge that can guide humanity toward balance.

No technology, no AI, no external power can prevent this. Because this freedom is not granted by others. It is awakened within.

Conclusion: The Call of Svātantrya

Independence Day is not just a reminder of past struggles. It is a call to present effort.
A call to remember that freedom is not simply freedom from oppression, but freedom for realization. A call to live not as shadows of others but as luminous beings in our own right. A call to contemplate deeply: Who am I? What does it mean to be Indian? What does it mean to be human?

Nationalistic thinking through dualistic constructs can only lead to conflicts. Our ancestors envisioned a world where diversity can exist and flourish. We do not see our prosperity in the poverty of other countries.

When India remembers her svātantrya, she will not only be free — she will make the world free. She will not only prosper — she will ensure prosperity for all.

That is the destiny of India. That is the promise of स्वतंत्रता दिवस.
True freedom begins in the mind, flowers in the spirit, and radiates into the world as peace and prosperity for all.

The post What Independence Means For India and Indians first appeared on Vinay Kulkarni.

Let me explain.

All the mischief in the world stems from conceptual happiness ideas that have been marketed to us from early childhood—by all the people around us who wanted to preach their own limited beliefs. These conceptual frameworks prevent you from experiencing life as it is, as it happens and flows. And hence we miss opportunities to experience pure, unadulterated, and untainted phenomenal happiness which has no form or shape, no definition and no fixed version. It can come in any form, any time, for any reason. We can experience it only if we allow ourselves to be in the flow—to flow with life instead of spending all our time analyzing. When Bill Moyers asked Joseph Campbell if we are all looking for the meaning of life, he said, “No! We are all looking for an experience of life!”

Conceptual happiness is what you were taught to chase—happiness that had a definition, a form, function, shape, color, and description. From kindergarten bulletin boards to corporate boardrooms, it has always had a clear definition. It comes with a checklist. Success. Fame. Recognition. Approval. Accolades. The right house. The right degree. The right number of likes on a social media post. It’s clean, boxed, and marketed in shiny wrapping paper.

But it is also second-hand.

Phenomenal happiness, on the other hand, is raw, unshaped, unbidden. It has no definition, no category. It cannot be predicted or pursued—it simply arises. You are walking barefoot on wet grass and suddenly, something inside you breaks open into laughter. You hear a tune from your childhood and your heart lifts. You pick up a book and land on a page in the middle, and the world disappears. That is phenomenal happiness. It is not a goal. It is a gift—offered only when you stop trying to be happy and simply show up to life as it is.

Too much left-brain logical thinking and forcing oneself to experience life through secondhand concepts and ideas is probably the root cause of all misery. It is the condition of the hunter who ignores all the prey in front of him and goes looking for that golden musk deer. He does not realize it may just be urban legend—just a made-up story from someone’s imagination. Why not use our own imagination? But the chains of mental conceptual bondage are very strong and very many and very hard to break, especially when you do not know how many of them are tying you down.

All the mischief in the world comes from the tyranny of conceptual happiness.

It is a mischief that begins early. By the time we are four, we are told what happiness looks like. By the time we are sixteen, we’ve internalized these ideas so deeply that we no longer see the world; we only see what we were taught about the world. This is what I mean when I say we live life through second-hand concepts. And this—this disconnection from reality, this compulsive filtering of experience through ideas—is, I believe, the root cause of our misery.

The left brain, for all its gifts, has hijacked our perception. It doesn’t let you play the game—it only wants to analyze it. The sad result is that we miss the sheer, pulsing nowness of life. We don’t see the sunrise; we evaluate it. We don’t feel the joy of music; we compare it to other music. We don’t experience love; we assess its future. We do not live. We strategize, conceptualize, optimize—and in doing so, we anesthetize. We create all these concepts in our mind and soon they become the walls of a self-created prison—we reject what life throws at us because it does not meet our definitions of love, success, quality, whatever. In the end, we may never know what someone really meant to say, whether someone really loved us, whether someone really meant to harm us, and so on. We may not even know what is good for us… but we certainly judge everything based on some ideas that are never tested or examined. So sad!

We have spent too many years worshipping the ideas that came from other people’s minds, while doubting the ones that sprang from our own. In my own experience, the deepest truths, the most luminous thoughts, have always visited me when my mind was in communion with something beyond—beyond logic, beyond tradition, beyond even language—the infinite source of everything. Call it silence. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that the moment I stop believing that truth must be validated by others to be real, I become free.

This reminds me of the first essay that I enjoyed reading—Ralph Waldo Emerson’s Self-Reliance. I found it as a teenager at the Indian Institute of World Culture, one of my favorite havens growing up. I didn’t understand all the words then, but I understood the music.

The essay begins with these two quotes:

“Man is his own star; and the soul that can render an honest and a perfect man, commands all light, all influence, all fate; Nothing to him falls early or too late. Our acts our angels are, or good or ill, our fatal shadows that walk by us still.”
~Epilogue to Beaumont and Fletcher’s Honest Man’s Fortune

And another:

“Cast the bantling on the rocks,
Suckle him with the she-wolf’s teat,
Wintered with the hawk and fox—
Power and speed be hands and feet.”

Emerson says: Trust thyself. And yet how few of us do. Most of us are too busy living as echoes—repeating the values of our teachers, the ambitions of our parents, the dreams of society, the morality of our religion, and the desires of advertisers. We fear being misunderstood. We fear being alone. We fear breaking the pattern.

But to be great, Emerson writes, is to be misunderstood.

His essay Self-Reliance is a fierce call to arms—a reminder that our first thought, our private conviction, is often more universal than the inherited wisdom of the ages. He says every man is a cause, a country, and an age. That our duty is not to conform, but to become. That we must stop asking the world for permission to live.

And we are so scared of saying the wrong thing, making the wrong choice, attracting ridicule and criticism. We need to overcome this fear.

Quoting Emerson again: “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do. He may as well concern himself with his shadow on the wall. Speak what you think now in hard words, and tomorrow speak what tomorrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict everything you said today.—’Ah, so you shall be sure to be misunderstood.’—Is it so bad, then, to be misunderstood?” We may have to give up the quest to be understood and also to understand everyone. It may not be worth it! Those who want to will understand, others may not even want to! Nothing should be too strained or forced. Some things are best allowed to happen organically.

It’s almost eerie how Emerson’s words echo those of Krishna on the battlefield of Kurukshetra. Arjuna, trembling, confused, and heartbroken, is us. Krishna, serene and luminous, simply says: “Do your duty. Live your Swadharma. Be who you are. The rest is noise.” (paraphrased).

So much of what we call “the pursuit of happiness” is simply running away from ourselves. This pursuit is an alien idea. And all the philosophies in the world are meaningless if they don’t bring us back home—to our breath, our heart, our moment. When we are kids we are in the here and now and we are happy in just being ourselves and enjoying whatever is happening at the moment. The mistakes begin to creep in when we first learn to set goals from others. Inadvertently we end creating a concept of happiness which is achieved when those goals are achieved. What if we are taught dharma at this moment. What if we had learned to do things because they needed to be done, for everyone’s benefit. And we would do it in a state of happiness. We are just happy doing things that simply need to be done for everyone’s benefit. The moment you create the idea of “individualized” happiness is when perhaps the second mistake happens! So 1) Tying happiness to an outcome and 2) Tying it to an outcome that I like or prefer even though it may not benefit others and 3) Choosing to define it in black and white terms based on someone else’s notions or beliefs and finally 4) Describing an unfavorable outcome as a sad failure – and all this without really understanding the process of “Sristi.”

There is nothing more you can get from the outwardly gaze, it makes more sense to turn our gaze inward—where all the mystery lies and all the answers.

And it is thus that I have come to realize that I must carefully analyze my every belief, notion, concept, mental model and study myself—study my own thoughts, my own actions and reactions, my own emotions and emotional responses to external stimuli. Observe what attracts me, what disgusts me, what causes delight and what brings trauma. This is indeed the most interesting research project in the world. My God! There is so much to study and learn. And how much joy it brings—the knowledge of self and the knowledge of “the” self. This is the real university. This is the Ph.D. I never pursued. And oh, what a fascinating curriculum it is! The syllabus changes every day. The classes are in session 24×7. And the only examination is: Are you awake? Are you aware?

That is why my guru always says, “Aap Ko Dhyaao, Aap ko Bhajo, Aap Mein, Aap Ke Ram, Aap Banke Rehete hain” ( “Meditate on your self, worship your self, Your Ram dwells inside you as the self”) Oh, how much peace and tranquility it brings—the simple act of removing attention from the objects and focusing it on the subject which is me. Forget the scenery and focus on the seer. It appears God has hidden all the secrets of the universe at the tip of my nose!
No lab is more profound than your own mind. No microscope more powerful than attention. And the best part? The more you look, the more you discover that there is nothing in you that is not also in the stars. Worship yourself—not in arrogance, but in reverence. For within you is Shiva. Within you is the witness. The still point. The seer of the scenery.

Happiness, it turns out, is not something to be chased or achieved. It is not in the destination. It is in the undisturbed presence at the center of your being. It is in the smile that arises when you’re not trying. It is in the moment when your breath deepens for no reason at all.
Forget the scenery. Focus on the seer. God, I believe, has hidden the secrets of the universe at the tip of your nose. In the one place you’ve never truly looked!

So, I must goad myself to pause. And look again.

You are not here to live a conceptual life—either your own or someone else’s. Happiness that hangs at the end of a long process that you are pushing yourself to go through may not be happiness at all. In fact, the idea of happiness that needs to be achieved may itself be an illusion. You are not here to perform for an audience. You are here to experience. You are here to taste the juice of this moment, raw and unfiltered. We are here to feel the phenomenon of being alive.
Just be here now. Just be. Do not resist the reality that is bursting forth. Let it flow. Through.
 

The post The Raw and Unfiltered experience of Life first appeared on Vinay Kulkarni.

Why Stories Matter More Than Ever
At the heart of every strong culture—whether it is a family, a company, a country, or a civilization—you will find stories. Stories recount situations encountered and how people in those situations responded. They teach us that we are bigger than any situation and that adversity can be overcome with grit, courage, belief in self, belief in the divine, creativity, and hard work.
Stories nourish the human spirit long before food nourishes the body. Temples tell stories. So do books, epics, sculptures, festivals, and even recipes passed down generations. Gurus, elders, and parents are our original storytellers. And that’s how civilizations are raised: not on information, but on imagination.

The truth is, we’re wired for stories. Our brains don’t just process narratives—they crave them. When someone tells us a story, something magical happens. Neural coupling occurs, synchronizing the brain activity between storyteller and listener. We don’t just hear the story; we live it. Mirror neurons fire, allowing us to emotionally experience what the characters experience. Oxytocin floods our system, creating bonds of empathy and trust.
This isn’t just poetry—it’s biology. And it’s why stories have been humanity’s primary technology for transmitting wisdom across millennia.

The Crisis of Modern Storytelling
Somewhere along the way, we have forgotten how to tell stories. People have forgotten how to have long, leisurely conversations. Grandparents, once the repositories of wisdom and tales, no longer know how to tell stories. They often don’t have anything to pass on to their grandchildren anymore.

The statistics are sobering. Children today spend an average of seven hours daily on screens. Family dinner conversations have shrunk from an hour to barely fifteen minutes. The art of oral storytelling, practiced for thousands of years, is dying in a single generation.
Perhaps it’s time to not only teach Indian Knowledge Systems (IKS) to children, but also create courses and camps for grandparents—to help them rediscover the art of storytelling, to learn the stories and their meanings, and to relive their role as living libraries.

There is nothing quite like story time with grandparents. For many of us, summer vacation meant a fun train ride to Ajji Mane (Grandma’s house) in Dharwad. And enjoying “Beladingala Oota” on the terrace with Ajji Kai Tuthu—dinner under the moonlight with Grandma feeding us tasty food and captivating us with Mahabharata stories.

We read Amar Chitra Katha, listened wide-eyed to legends, and slowly imbibed values we didn’t even know we were learning. Each story was a seed, planted deep in our consciousness, blooming years later into principles that guided our lives.

The Digital Disruption of Human Connection
Recently, I conducted a 3-day children’s camp focused on developing the capabilities of the mind. I noticed that children today are so distracted that their observation skills have weakened. Schools have conditioned them to focus only on taking notes. So, we worked on unlearning these habits and cultivating good mental practices.

But the goal is not just to tell stories to children—it is to make them into storytellers. In that process, they become ambassadors of Sanatana Dharma and Indian Knowledge Systems. They carry forward not just knowledge, but a living, breathing tradition.

Most importantly, we have forgotten the art of conversations. When we were kids, there were no phones. Aunts and uncles would show up unexpectedly. Then we would have so much fun! Mom would rush to make something nice in the kitchen. Kids would bring out the chess boards and carom boards and start playing. But the party would never be complete without some good, real, old-fashioned storytelling by grandparents, parents, and older kids.

But now, everyone is glued to their phones. Storytelling is happening on reels and shorts. No one cares about human storytelling anymore. The heart-to-heart connection that stories used to build is being replaced by scrolls and swipes. And that is a loss we must consciously reverse.
The irony is palpable. We have more ways to communicate than ever before, yet we’ve never been more disconnected. We consume more stories through Netflix and Instagram than any generation in history, yet we’ve forgotten how to tell our own.

The Art and Science of Storytelling
Humor is an essential ingredient in storytelling—it disarms, connects, and makes even the most profound truths digestible. I really appreciate the way Upanishad Ganga was produced. The presence of a Sutradhar who acts as a bridge between the audience and the story and its characters transforms each episode into an intimate conversation. This narrative device, deeply rooted in Indian storytelling traditions, reminds us that stories must be told with rasa—with flavor, emotion, and life—not just recited like facts.

The Sutradhar doesn’t just narrate; he interprets, comments, and occasionally winks at the audience, creating a multi-layered experience. This ancient technique makes complex philosophical concepts accessible while maintaining their depth. It’s storytelling that respects both the story and the listener.

Beyond Listening: The Power of Writing Stories
We must go beyond just consuming stories—everyone should try their hand at writing them. Writing stories is an act that requires tremendous concentration, imagination, and creativity. It utilizes all parts of the brain simultaneously. When you write, you’re not just recording words; you’re architecting worlds, breathing life into characters, and weaving meaning into existence.
The process is transformative. As you struggle to find the right word, visualize a scene, or capture an emotion, your neural networks fire in ways that no passive activity can match. Writing is meditation in motion, therapy without a couch, and education without a classroom.
The science backs this up. Stories with clear narrative structure naturally appeal to our brains.

Reviving Storytelling in Every Sphere
We need to host storytelling nights everywhere—at restaurants and hotels, in schools and colleges, and especially in corporate establishments. Imagine walking into your favorite restaurant to find not just good food, but a corner where stories are being shared. Picture hotels hosting weekly story circles where travelers exchange tales from their journeys. Envision corporate boardrooms transformed into narrative spaces where employees share not just quarterly reports, but the stories behind the numbers.

The Theater of Life: Beyond Passive Listening
But we shouldn’t stop at storytelling. We must embrace the full spectrum of narrative arts—writing, directing, and enacting plays in both social and corporate settings. When people don’t just tell stories but embody them, transformation happens. The shy employee discovers confidence playing a king. The rigid manager learns flexibility through comedy. The disconnected team finds unity in shared performance.

I’ve experimented with this extensively through my summer camps at Sanskritishaala, and the results have been nothing short of magical. In one session, we had children create, write, and perform their own interpretations of ancient stories.

Kids are natural-born actors and storytellers. Their imagination hasn’t yet been constrained by the “proper” way to do things. They don’t need to be taught much—just given permission to explore and express. They instinctively understand that stories aren’t meant to be perfect; they’re meant to be lived.

The biggest challenge? Keeping them away from gadgets. But that’s easier said than done.

Storytelling in Families
In a family, storytelling is how values, identity, and resilience are passed down. Grandparents who share tales of struggle, migration, devotion, or transformation do more than entertain. They encode within the next generation a sense of where they come from, what matters, and what is possible.

History gives us powerful examples of this transformative power. Consider how Jijabai shaped the mind and character of Shivaji Maharaj through storytelling. She didn’t just tell him bedtime stories—she strategically narrated tales from the Ramayana and Mahabharata, stories of valor from Rajput heroes, and accounts of their own ancestors’ bravery. Each story was carefully chosen to instill courage, dharma, and a vision of Swarajya. Through her narratives, she sculpted not just a son, but a leader who would change the course of Indian history. Jijabai understood what modern neuroscience now confirms: stories shape neural pathways, build character, and inspire action.

Without storytelling, families raise children who know facts but not meaning. They grow up with gadgets but not grounding. But tell a child stories of their ancestors, or mythological figures who wrestled with their dharma, and you raise a different human being altogether.

Every family has its epic tales—the grandfather who walked miles to school, the grandmother who started a business with nothing, the uncle who chose principle over profit. These aren’t just anecdotes; they’re the DNA of family identity.

Storytelling in Business
In a business, storytelling is the keeper of culture. Every founding story, customer testimonial, early failure, and big win has to be told, retold, and woven into the fabric of the organization. It builds emotional connection, preserves hard-won insights, and passes on cultural DNA to new employees.

When a company loses its stories, it becomes a transaction machine, not a living entity. Stories create belonging. They explain why things are done a certain way. They show what the company stands for.

The most successful companies understand this. Apple doesn’t sell computers; it tells stories of creative rebels. Nike doesn’t sell shoes; it narrates tales of human potential. Every brand that touches hearts does so through story.

Storytelling in Civilization
For a civilization, storytelling is food. Gross food comes later. If you want to build a 1000-year society, you must feed it the stories of its gods, its heroes, its founders, its scientists, its saints, its rebels, and its poets.

Stories are the seeds of civilizational consciousness. Lose the stories, and you lose the civilization.

Take India, for example. Every major cultural practice—from temple architecture to dance forms—is steeped in narrative. Our deities are not abstract symbols; they are characters in elaborate stories. And the way they act, decide, bless, punish, or transform becomes the map by which generations orient themselves.

India’s Treasure Trove of Storytelling Traditions
India has a breathtaking range of storytelling forms, each a universe unto itself:
Harikatha Kalakshepam – Philosophical storytelling with music and drama
Villu Pattu – Tamil and Malayalam bow-based folk music tales
Kaavad – Rajasthani box-shrine storytelling
Pandavani – Mahabharata retellings from Chhattisgarh
Burra Katha – South Indian three-person storytelling combining music, satire, and social commentary.

Karnataka for example, boasts an extraordinary array of traditions that deserve special mention:
Yakshagana – A spectacular folk theater combining dance, music, dialogue, and elaborate costumes to present stories from Hindu epics. Performers spend entire nights bringing mythological characters to life.
Dasapadas – Songs in Kannada narrating stories from Puranas and real-life events, carrying both emotional depth and spiritual wisdom
Katha/Kathe – An umbrella term for various narrative traditions including Kamsale, Chaudike, Jogi, and Tatva—all performed through recitation and music
Jogi Kathe – Jogi performers use the kinnari (stick zither) while singing stories interspersed with relevant songs
Kamsale – Ancient dance form where performers create bell-like sounds with disc-shaped instruments while singing about Lord Male Mahadeshwara
Chitrakathi – Picture storytelling using painted scrolls, particularly popular in the Pinguli area

Each form carries centuries of refinement, audience engagement techniques, and cultural wisdom. They blend music and metaphysics, entertainment and enlightenment, creating experiences that transform both performer and audience.

Our literary traditions are equally profound. The Upanishads use stories to express the inexpressible—philosophical and spiritual truths that transcend logical explanation. The Panchatantra teaches strategy and ethics through animal tales that have traveled the world. The Kathasaritsagara is a vast ocean of nested legends, romance, and wonder.

The Global Language of Story
Storytelling isn’t unique to India—it’s humanity’s shared heritage:
Bali: Kechak, Barong, and Legong transform dance into narrative
France: Medieval troubadours sang tales of love and chivalry
Japan: Noh and Kabuki preserve ancient narratives through stylized performance
Africa: Griots serve as living libraries, memorizing generations of their people’s history
Across the globe, storytelling is survival, memory, and identity. Every culture that has survived has done so by telling its stories.

Stories as Medicine: The Psychological Healing Power of Puranas
I believe our Puranas and Itihasa-Puranas are not just stories but profound tools for psychological healing. They function as mirrors that reflect our consciousness, revealing truths about ourselves we might otherwise never see.

Take the Mahabharata, for instance. It’s more than a story; it’s a psychic and psychological mirror. How you respond to it—whom you idolize or despise, whom you worship or condemn, which characters confuse or amaze you, or who feels utterly transparent—reveals profound truths about your state of consciousness. These reflections uncover your deepest fears, prejudices, vices, and aspirations—your samskaras and vasanas.

This is why our ancestors insisted on regular exposure to these stories. They weren’t entertainment—they were medicine for the soul, therapy for the psyche, and maps for spiritual evolution. Each hearing reveals new layers, not because the story changes, but because you do.

Bridging the Urban-Rural Storytelling Divide
In villages, storytelling remains communal, participative, and organic – shared over fires, in fields, or at temples. The audience isn’t passive; they respond, interject, and shape the narrative. The story breathes with collective life.

In cities, storytelling has become digital, fragmented, and performance based. We consume stories alone, on screens, without the warmth of human presence. Both forms have their place, but we must ensure village-style oral traditions don’t vanish in the urban rush.

The Transformative Power of Stories
In health communication, storytelling is emerging as a game-changer. WHO’s Communication for Health framework uses personal narratives to promote health behaviors. Real stories—like that of Mildred, a TB survivor, or Roy, the “Mangrove Man” from Papua New Guinea—humanize statistics and inspire action.

These stories don’t just inform—they transform. They change not just what people know, but how they feel and what they do. A single well-told story can shift behavior more effectively than a thousand facts.

The Path Forward: Practical Steps
So how do we revive this lost art? Here are concrete steps we can take:
Start Story Circles: Gather friends and family monthly for dedicated storytelling sessions. No phones allowed.
Document Family Stories: Interview elders. Record their voices. Transcribe their memories before they’re lost forever.
Integrate Stories in Education: Every subject can be taught through narrative. History is already stories—but so are science, mathematics, and even coding.
Corporate Story Initiatives: Create “Story Fridays” where employees share founding myths, customer victories, and lessons learned.
Write Your Stories: Start a journal. Write one story from your life each week. You’ll be amazed at what emerges.
Support Traditional Storytellers: Attend performances. Invite them to schools. Ensure these art forms don’t die with their practitioners.
Create Modern Formats: Podcasts, video essays, and interactive narratives can carry ancient wisdom in contemporary vessels.

The Urgency of Now
We stand at a crossroads. We can either become the first civilization to abandon its stories, or we can consciously choose to revive, preserve, and evolve our narrative traditions.
The stakes couldn’t be higher. Without stories, we raise a generation that knows everything but understands nothing. That has information but lacks wisdom. That can code but cannot connect.

Final Reflections
In a world obsessed with data, productivity, and speed, let us return to story.
Because story is where the human soul lives.

As parents, teachers, leaders, or citizens, our primary responsibility is not just to pass on wealth or information—but stories.

Because only stories can awaken the next generation to who they really are—and what they must become.

Let us bring storytelling back—not as performance, but as practice.
Not as nostalgia, but as nourishment.

Because the future of our families, our companies, and our civilization depends on it.
The next time you’re with family, put away the phones. Light a candle if you must, to mark the moment as sacred. And begin with those three magical words that have launched a thousand journeys:
“Once upon a time…”
Because every time we tell a story, we keep civilization alive. One narrative at a time.
 

The post The Vanishing Art and Culture of Oral Storytelling first appeared on Vinay Kulkarni.

Rediscovering Rāga Yoga in a World That Has Forgotten Its Own Rhythm
“We are all legally Indian, geographically Indian, but are we truly culturally Indian?” This question struck me during a recent gathering where 25 children could name every Disney character but couldn’t identify a single Pāṇḍava. We export our culture, market our heritage, yet somehow remain disconnected from its living essence.

Perhaps this disconnection explains why International Yoga Day celebrations focus almost entirely on physical postures—āsanas—while the deeper purpose of yoga remains unexplored. Yoga means union: the merging of individual consciousness with cosmic consciousness. Physical practices merely prepare us for the ultimate goal—samādhi, the state where we transcend body and mind rather than becoming more entangled in them.

This discussion with my friend Hariprasad Varma led to the idea of celebrating the International Day of Yoga with something musical which can help our minds enter into samadhi and also a process of self-discovery : Rāga Yoga, a forgotten pathway where music becomes the vehicle for divine union.

The entire team of Rāga Yoga festival did a great job: Aarti Sivakumar, Rajam Shanker Ji, Hamsini Murthy Ji, Hariprasad Varma and Shruti Bode – all worked in sync under the guidance of Hari ji to help the participants experience something profound and non-physical and derive key insights into their own nature and being. And thus the objective of Upadesha Academy was achieved – From Anubhava to Anubhuti.

The Cosmic Dance of Light and Sound

When asked to name the two most visible, experienceable forms of energy in existence, the answer emerges clearly: light and sound. Both carry the fundamental property of waves—sound waves and light waves—though light also exists as particles. Through dedicated practice, our ancestors mastered something remarkable: the art and science of converting sound into light.
This isn’t mere metaphor. Consciousness creates vibrations, vibrations give birth to energy, and energy manifests as physical reality. Everything emerges through this miraculous conversion of sound into tangible existence.

The Vedic tradition speaks of Nāda Brahma—the concept that the universe itself is sound. This isn’t ordinary sound but vibration carrying specific resonance, connected to Oṃ, the praṇava mantra that echoes through creation. When we truly listen, we discover that everything vibrates with this cosmic frequency.

Our ṛṣis understood this deeply. They developed the concept of Mantra Śarīra—the body of sound. Through tāntric practices, practitioners establish different devatās within various cakras and their petals through bīja mantras (seed sounds). Each sound carries specific power, each vibration unlocks particular doorways of consciousness.

The Science of Sacred Sound

Mantras represent coded sound formulations designed to produce specific effects on consciousness and reality. These aren’t random combinations of syllables but precisely calibrated tools for transformation. Different rāgas—melodic frameworks in Indian classical music—generate distinct effects on the human mind and spirit.

Consider Rāga Megh Mallār, traditionally believed to summon rain. This isn’t mere folklore but recognition of music’s power to influence physical reality through the interconvertibility of energy. Sound produces emotions, emotions generate thoughts, thoughts create vibrations, and vibrations alter the energetic fabric of our bodies and surroundings.

The ancient fire ceremonies (homas) demonstrate this principle beautifully. Specific vibrations produced by the mantras transfer energy to the ahuti, the ahuti is then offered to the agni which converts it to ether, affecting physical reality. Through millennia of practice, our ancestors mastered the art and science of converting sound into light – through thousands of repetitions of a mantra, one can transform the gross body into a mantra sharira and then into linga sharira or jyotirmaya sharira. God has been described a Nirguna, Nirakara, Jyotirmaya, Shabdarupa. Thus Shabda and Jyoti have great significance for us.

The Many Facets of Light

Light exists simultaneously as waves and particles, a truth that mirrors its spiritual significance. People often sign messages with “love and light,” but what does light truly represent? Beyond physical illumination, light embodies wisdom, insight, and freedom. When we speak of “light at the end of the tunnel,” we mean liberation from darkness—a way out of suffering. When someone is explaining something to us and we finally understand what they are saying, we say, “I see what you are saying” even though they are communicating through sound. Or, “I see what you mean.” Or just, “I see.” When we need someone to educate us we sometimes say, “Please enlighten me.” And of course there is “Enlightenment.”

यथैधांसि समिद्धोऽग्निर्भस्मसात्कुरुतेऽर्जुन |
ज्ञानाग्नि: सर्वकर्माणि भस्मसात्कुरुते तथा || 37||
yathaidhānsi samiddho ’gnir bhasma-sāt kurute ’rjuna
jñānāgniḥ sarva-karmāṇi bhasma-sāt kurute tathā

Translation
BG 4.37: As a kindled fire reduces wood to ashes, O Arjun, so does the fire of knowledge burn to ashes all reactions from material activities.

Consider Naṭarāja’s cosmic dance: one foot pushes the demon (representing our ego) deeper into saṃsāra, while the raised foot points toward the hand displaying abhayamudrā—”do not fear.” The other hand holds a lamp, the light of illumination, showing there’s always a path beyond suffering. Beyond the circle of life and death.

Light also describes our emotional states in fascinating ways. When sadness weighs us down, we feel heavy; when joy lifts our hearts, we feel light. Our physical weight remains unchanged, yet the feeling transforms completely. This occurs because we possess five layers of being—the pañca kośas. The prāṇamaya kośa (energy body) vibrates thousands of times faster than the annamaya kośa (physical body), followed by increasingly subtle layers: manomaya (mental), jñānamaya (wisdom), and ānandamaya (bliss).

These four subtle bodies actually carry our physical form. When sadness overwhelms us, these subtle bodies collapse, making the physical body feel heavier. When joy fills us—when we connect with the ānandamaya kośa—the subtle bodies become so powerful that carrying the physical form becomes effortless play. We feel genuinely light.

Nature’s Orchestra and Universal Communication

Listen to ocean waves washing against the shore. Their rhythmic pulse lulls us toward sleep because sound waves harmonize with brain waves, creating natural rhythm—a cosmic lullaby. As the Vietnamese Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh beautifully expressed: “Enlightenment for a wave is to realize it’s only water.” Even here, in this metaphor, light—enlightenment—emerges through understanding.

One of Earth’s finest orchestras exists in every forest. Birds, crickets, and countless creatures create perfect symphonies without visible conductors. This invisible coordination reveals a profound truth: continuous communication flows throughout the universe. Trees communicate with humans despite lacking vocal cords—what scientists now call biosemiotics. Sit quietly with a tree for days, and beautiful communication emerges.

In Japan, they practice shinrin-yoku—forest bathing—which provides not just connection with trees but immersion in sound itself, a healing sound bath that realigns us with universal rhythm.

Shinrin Yoku is the Japanese practice of “forest bathing”—a mindful, meditative experience of immersing yourself fully in nature using all five senses. More than just hiking or walking, this intentional time spent among trees has scientifically proven benefits including reduced stress, lower blood pressure, improved mood, and increased focus. The practice can be done anywhere trees are present, from wilderness areas to city parks or even your backyard, and its healing effects can be brought home through essential oils, cypress baths, and other nature-based rituals. Essentially, shinrin-yoku is about slowing down and reconnecting with the natural world to combat modern life’s overwhelming pace and restore both physical and mental wellbeing.

The Guru’s Teaching

My Guru revealed a profound truth: “Mantra Hī Maheśvara Hai”—the mantra itself is Maheśvara (the supreme divine). When we surrender to the mantra, recognizing it as divine presence, it carries us beyond the Bhavasāgara—the ocean of worldly existence.

When mantras combine with rāgas—when they’re sung within specific melodic frameworks—their power intensifies dramatically. They can transform human consciousness and even influence the physical universe around us.

Beyond Entertainment: Reclaiming Sacred Purpose

Modern minds hear “dance” or “music” and immediately think “entertainment.” Yet ancient India created hundreds of different pathways to samādhi—states of divine union between finite and infinite consciousness.

Contemporary classical dance may have drifted from its original form, intent and purpose. We call practitioners “performers” focused on audience applause. A true classical dancer is not even aware of the audience; instead her mind is totally focused on the divine – the deity for whom her dance is an offering – a Nrityarpane. When dancers enter samādhi states, completely absorbed in divine consciousness, audiences catch a glimpse of that sacred state through a window (as if). Through mirror neuron effects, observers also experience transcendent states.

This represents the true purpose: raising human consciousness. Everything becomes sacred when approached with proper understanding. Nothing exists as merely jaḍa (inert matter) versus cetana (conscious). Everything vibrates with caitanya—consciousness itself.

Our classical music and dance exist to help us connect with universal rhythm and align our personal geometry with cosmic geometry. The Śrī Cakra represents this cosmic geometry, and through dedicated practice, we don’t merely worship the divine—we become the divine pattern ourselves, achieving union with the Adhiṣṭhātrī Devī.

Finding Your Personal Rāga

Music therapy essentially guides us back to natural rhythm—returning to the forest, the womb, the primordial sounds that heal. During leadership retreats, participants discover their personal rāga by listening to various melodic frameworks until one resonates deeply. They record this rāga and carry it throughout daily life. When feeling off-center, they return to their rāga, finding homeostasis—that perfect state of balance.

For some, Rāga Mārvā or Rāga Candra Kauṃs provides this centering effect. Each person’s nervous system responds uniquely to different rāgas, creating personalized pathways back to inner equilibrium.

This practice represents profound wisdom: recognizing that we each carry unique vibrational signatures that harmonize with specific aspects of cosmic music. Finding our rāga means discovering our individual note in the universal symphony.

The Sacred Path Forward

While much of the modern world celebrates yoga primarily through physical postures, and wellness centers compete with “hot yoga,” “beer yoga,” and even “rap yoga,” Rāga Yoga offers something authentic and profound. We’re not seeking another fitness trend but rediscovering our connection to the cosmic rhythm that pulses through existence.

In a culture where children know cartoon characters better than epic heroes, where we’ve become so westernized that we can’t speak without colonial influence coloring our thoughts, Rāga Yoga provides a pathway home. It offers direct experience rather than mere theory—the difference between reading about meditation and actually entering meditative states.

Learning represents the most joyful human activity, though it’s tragically underrated. Nothing matches the joy of understanding something you’ve sought your entire life, when pieces suddenly align in perfect clarity. Rāga Yoga creates such moments: instant recognition of truths that have always existed within us.

The path reveals that sound and silence, music and stillness, individual expression and universal consciousness aren’t separate experiences but aspects of one magnificent whole. Through dedicated practice, we hear the anāhata nāda—the unstruck sound continuously resonating within—the eternal music of existence itself.

This is Rāga Yoga’s gift: discovering that we’re not separate from the cosmic symphony but essential notes in its infinite composition. When we understand this deeply, every moment becomes conscious participation in creation’s ongoing song. Music transforms from entertainment to enlightenment, from performance to prayer, from art to the very essence of spiritual practice itself.

In this sacred understanding, we don’t just practice yoga—we become yoga, living embodiments of the divine union that has always been our true nature.

The post The Sacred Symphony: Music as the Gateway to Divine Union first appeared on Vinay Kulkarni.

There are books you read to gather information. There are books you read to find inspiration. And then, once in a while, you stumble upon a book that reads back to you. Reading such a book feels like a sadhana in itself, especially because every chapter ends with a suggested meditative practice. This is a clear indication of the focus and emphasis on Sadhana by the author.

Dr. Ishan Shivanand’s The Practice of Immortality is not the story or the work of an academic or a scholar from an premier institute in India or abroad. It is not the voice of someone who read Indian texts in translation while sipping green tea at Cambridge. This is the story of a real-life monk—meticulously prepared, groomed, trained, and shaped from childhood by his father Avdhoot Shivanand Ji, to carry the light of Sanatana Dharma into a modern world of noise and numbness. A monk who has been nurtured by the Aravallis and Himalayas, matured in ashrams, forests, gaushalas and sacred rivers—and who has now stepped into boardrooms, universities, and hospital corridors with equal ease. I have watched this evolution from close quarters over the last 10 years. I have to say this young monk has squeezed every drop of juice from every second of every hour of every day of the last 10 years – working relentlessly in the pursuit of his goal of helping good people become better all over the world (this is not an exaggeration).

This is not the polished storytelling of a Hemingway or a Naipaul. This is the raw, earthy, visceral, deeply human autobiography of someone who has actually walked the path. Someone who has bled on it. Who has stumbled, fallen, risen, and walked again. A monk who was not crafted through marketing, but through the sheer dent of his tapasya and sadhana. In a day and age when most of the 1.4 billion Indians continue to be colonized in their minds, Ishan is like a breath of fresh air with the tejas, ojas and varchas of a true “son of the soil” yogi who is comfortable in any attire, in any setting (rural, urban, corporate, medical – you name it) and in any country. He has inspired and animated the spiritual imagination of people of all age groups and from all walks of life from all continents (www.ishanshivanand.com). His childhood was spent in various parts of India including Alwar, Lucknow and other places – rural, moutainous, desert areas in a true gurukula – where his own father was his guru. He grew up as just another student amongst many and went through rigorous sadhana of various dimensions over many years. This monastery was his school, college and university. And often the gentle, noble, humble and divine cows of his ashram were his companions.

And you feel that in every page.

A Book that Breathes and Talks

The book is structured in short, powerful chapters—each with poetic titles like “Drinking the Poison of Ego,” “The Balloon Tied to Your Toe,” and “From Destruction, a Seed Grows.” Each chapter begins with a Sanskrit shloka or an Indic quote—deeply anchoring the wisdom in Bharatiya tradition. And each chapter ends with a practice—a small meditation, a breathwork suggestion, or a contemplation. Between the quote and the meditation is a story that captures Ishan’s spiritual encounters and growth.

In that sense, this is not a book for your bookshelf. It’s a book for your meditation room.
The chapters don’t follow a fixed doctrine or formula. They unfold like petals—gently but unmistakably guiding you inward. First comes the story—rich, lived, emotional. Then the insight—never didactic, always discovered. Finally, the practice—an invitation to apply it.
This is not information. This is transformation.

This Is Not That…

Let me be clear. This is not the story of a billionaire who gave up his Lamborghini for 10 days of silence. This is not the memoir of a Western-trained coach who dabbled in Vedanta and now offers “tantric abundance coaching.” This is not about building a following on Instagram with moody pictures of prayer beads and waterfalls.

This is not borrowed wisdom. This is embodied truth.
This is the lived journey of a monk who was born into a lineage of yogis. Who trained under a Siddha. Who was taught by saints and sadhus. Who learned from the rising sun and ripening mangoes. Who spent years in solitude and then stepped out into a chaotic world filled with ignorace, delusion and suffering—not to enoy it, but to serve it.

He has spoken at Ivy League universities, top hospitals, and Fortune 500 companies—but he never forgets that his roots lie in Bharat, in dharma, in seva. His social media following didn’t come from hype—it came from the healing that he has brought into the lives of millions.

The Balloon Tied to Your Toe

Let me pause here and speak of one chapter that hit me particularly hard—Chapter 10: The Balloon Tied to Your Toe. It begins with a parable:


“There was once a man who had to sleep in a dormitory with 100 strangers. Afraid he would lose himself in the crowd, a monk offered a solution: tie a balloon to your toe. In the morning, find the person with the balloon, and that’s you.”

But during the night, a mischievous monk moves the balloon.

And the next morning, the man wakes up, sees the balloon on someone else’s toe, and begins to cry, “That’s me!”


The story is deceptively simple. But the commentary that follows is razor-sharp

“Ego is the man with the balloon on his toe. Because we have not answered the question, ‘Who am I?’, we cling to the fallacy that the balloon must be me.”


And what are these balloons? Our degrees. Our titles. Our jobs. Our family names. Our beauty. Our achievements. Our religion. Our social media bios. Our projections.

“Instant gratification and the approval of others can be the enemy of immortality,” he writes.

Through this chapter, Ishan lays bare the traps of identity. He shows how even spirituality becomes corrupted when used to inflate the ego. And then, softly, lovingly, he guides us back to the path: not by shaming the ego, but by unmasking it.

The chapter is a masterclass in deconstructing identity. It doesn’t shame the ego. It reveals it. And then gently, but firmly, shows us how to outgrow it

Each chapter is built like a meditation in three parts:

A sutra—a thread of insight from the “Siva Sutras”, “Bhagvad Gita” or from his Guru’s Teachings
A story—usually from the author’s own lived experience
A practice—what he calls samadhi, not as a lofty goal, but as a lived experience of stillness

This rhythm—thread, story, stillness—becomes the book’s real power. You don’t rush through it. You breathe through it.

The path of Shiv Yog

Not the yoga you think you know.

Let me be clear: this is not the yoga of contorted poses and influencer aesthetics.
This is yoga as it was meant to be—therapeutic, integrative, and transformative.

Ishan Shivanand’s lineage-based teachings emphasize Kriyas, Dharana, Dhyana, Samadhi, Seva and Sankirtana (meditative chanting and singing) — not as abstract ideas but as daily disciplines for navigating the chaos of modern life. This is Yoga of realizing your true nature – eternal, expansive, infitinite. The way to become one with the source of creation itself. Discovering your true identity and acting out of that knowledge. A lineage that carries the wisdom of Dattatreya, Parashuram, Gorakhnath, Matsyendranath, Adi Shankara, Agastya Mahamuni, Lopamudra, Acharya Abhinavagupta, Vasishta Maharishi and Rishi Markandeya.

But what stands out is how non-performative it all feels. You’re not being asked to become someone new. You’re simply asked to stop pretending to be someone you’re not.

The mirror and the window

There’s a beautiful moment in the introduction where Dr. Shivanand shares a lesson from his guru: A piece of glass can either be a mirror or a window. A mirror shows you only yourself. A window shows you the world. Most of us are stuck looking into mirrors, looping within our small selves. This book, if you let it, helps turn that mirror into a window—through which you glimpse your own vastness.

The focus on Anubhava

What makes this book powerful is that it is not theoretical. It’s lived. Each sentence breathes the air of ancient shrines and global cities alike. From meditating in the holiest of sthalas to taking dips in sacred rivers across the world, to serving in some of the most remote and forgotten corners of the planet—Dr. Ishan’s life is a testimony to what mastery of mind, body, and spirit actually looks like.


And yet, the language remains humble. Approachable. Personal. For instance:


“Even the greediest child learns to wait just one more day for perfection.”
— On waiting under a mango tree, and learning the rhythm of ripening


Or this moment of spiritual memory:


“Now I understood why my father was wearing white… In my culture, white is the color worn at the time of death.”
— A meditation not on fear, but surrender


This book is deeply devotional too—offering glimpses into the author’s love for Mahadev, his worship of Lalithamba, his surrender to his Guru, and his unwavering dedication to Rashtra, Vishwa, and Dharma.


And at the heart of it all, what truly shines is the emphasis on sadhana. Dr. Ishan is not a philosopher with opinions—he is a practitioner with direct experience. The practices he shares aren’t borrowed or imagined; they come from decades of training, austerity, and inner realization.

A note of caution: Readers seeking a quick “how-to” guide might find the book too poetic or slow. There are no lists, no hacks. But to see that as a weakness is to misunderstand the nature of this work. Its strength is its pace—each word asking you to pause, reflect, and breathe.

Snippets and Small Stories from the book

1. The Mango Tree Meditation
In one chapter, a young Ishan and other children visit an ancient mango tree every day in the summer, eagerly checking to see if the fruit has ripened. They learn to wait—not because someone teaches them to—but because nature does. It’s a simple but profound lesson in divine timing.

“We all learned to wait just one more day. Even the greediest child did.”

2. The Crow That Woke Him Up
One day, Ishan is sitting at his desk, lost in daydreams of the time he received shaktipat. Suddenly, a crow appears and screeches at him—waking him from his trance like Kakkbhushundi, the divine bird-sage of Indian lore. He looks down and finds scriptures his father left for him. The message is clear: it’s time to move from dreaming to doing.

“The crow, like Kakkbhushundi himself, had come to wake me up


3. Meditation on Death
In Chapter 5, his father walks into the meditation hall dressed in white. He announces that they will meditate on the final journey—death. It’s not a moment of sorrow, but of immense peace and spiritual insight.

“Now I understood why he was dressed in white. In our culture, white is worn at the time of death.”

The honesty here is rare. Most spiritual books skip the fall. Ishan shares it—fully. Both his mistakes and his triumphs. His victories and his failures on the spiritual path. And that makes it more relatable.

A Structure that Mirrors the Inner Journey

The structure of the book is not linear—it is cyclical, like sadhana itself. It begins in purity, moves through complexity, confronts shadows, and returns to light.
Each chapter is like an upāsana. You sit with it. You breathe it. You reflect. You don’t read this book. You walk it.

This is your intro to spirituality

What makes The Practice of Immortality extraordinary is its utter lack of pretense. It’s not trying to be smart. It’s trying to be true.

Dr. Ishan Shivanand gives you practices. Not theory, but therapy. You start where you are.

“Jab Jago Tab Savera” as his guru often says.

In Conclusion

We have for years consumed translated, often distorted ideas, concepts, methods and practices that were shipped out, packaged and shipped back to us. Now, with this book, we have the opportunity to hear the true story of an authentic Indian monk.

This is not just the story of a monk. It is the journey that each one of us can take, must take. It is a journey that you can use to inspire your son or daughter or any young person that you know and want to help.

Read the book, practice the meditations.

Shubhamastu! Shubhavagali!

ॐ सर्वेषां स्वस्तिर्भवतु ।
सर्वेषां शान्तिर्भवतु ।
सर्वेषां पूर्णंभवतु ।
सर्वेषां मङ्गलंभवतु ।
ॐ शान्तिः शान्तिः शान्तिः ॥

Om Sarveshaam Svastir-Bhavatu |
Sarveshaam Shaantir-Bhavatu |
Sarveshaam Puurnnam-Bhavatu |
Sarveshaam Manggalam-Bhavatu |
Om Shaantih Shaantih Shaantih ||




 

The post BOOK REVIEW first appeared on Vinay Kulkarni.

In the rush toward technological advancement and economic growth, we’ve created a world of incredible capabilities but questionable wisdom. Our educational systems, once meant to nurture complete human beings, have become factories producing specialized workers, with little regard for the deeper meaning that makes life worth living. The consequences of this transformation are evident everywhere – from rising mental health issues to environmental degradation, from technological threats to societal division. Yet, we continue to see various problems which are interconnected as separate unrelated issues. If this is not a failure of the modern education system then what is?

The Crisis of Modern Knowledge

What we’re facing today isn’t simply an educational challenge but a fundamental crisis in how we define knowledge itself. We’ve reduced knowledge to mere information—facts and figures that produce no transformation in the individual. We’ve shattered the unified field of human understanding into incompatible silos that not only operate in isolation but actively oppose each other with an almost morbid hatred. In this fragmentation, we’ve lost both common sense and a sense of overall meaning relevant to building a balanced society.

When we design a world that is against the design philosophy of nature itself, breakdown is inevitable. Yet our hasty solutions to these breakdowns simply create new problems. When people become depressed and unhappy in our modern world, we classify it as a “mental health problem” and develop another discipline to fix it. In the United States, they created anti-depressants, which in turn created new issues, perpetuating an endless cycle of treating symptoms rather than addressing root causes. We have forgotten the ancient Indian pursuit of “Knowing that by knowing which we can know everything.”

Over the decades the Indian society has lost their ancestral wisdom about how to choose a profession and build a meaningful life. The conversation has degraded to: “My friend Shankar’s son is an IT engineer making so much money, so you should do the same!” This assembly-line approach to career planning shows blatant disregard for individual differences, natural inclinations, and what ancient Indian traditions recognized as different swabhavas (inherent nature) in people.

The Poverty of Modern Education

Our current educational system offers essentially the same education and goals for everyone until college, with little acknowledgment of individual differences. We’re beating around the bush, avoiding the core issue: should we build lives around what is meaningful to the individual, or take an assembly-line approach and struggle throughout life to find meaning? Tragically, the latter describes what’s happening today.

When modern thinkers struggle to understand the complex but related phenomena in our world, they call it a “wicked problem.” But if you start with an understanding of nature’s design, things aren’t so complex. Once you comprehend how a human being is constructed, how nature is designed, the fundamental forces at work, and the interrelationship between humanity and nature, everything falls into place.

The issue isn’t about how many graduates we need in engineering or humanities. Our current social design (or lack thereof) doesn’t account for the natural, innate, inborn tendencies of individuals that hint at what each person would find meaningful and fulfilling. The only measure we apply is how lucrative a career path is, and in this universal chase after money, people are becoming both materially and spiritually impoverished.

We focus blindly and thoughtlessly on quantity—how many engineers or accountants we’re graduating—rather than quality. We pay little attention to the natural distribution of various talents in society. In fact, we barely discuss natural talent, inclinations, and proclivities today. Our conversation revolves solely around which professions are lucrative and in demand, as if human beings were interchangeable parts in an economic machine. If some geniuses emerge out of such a misguided system, it is despite the system rather than because of it!

The Missing Foundation: Common Sense and Clear Thinking

Perhaps the most important subject missing from our schools and colleges is “Common Sense, Simple Logic, and Clear Thinking”—the ability to apply basic reasonableness to most situations. Our educational system has become so specialized and fragmented that students can graduate with advanced degrees yet lack the fundamental capacity to evaluate claims, detect contradictions, or make sound judgments about everyday matters. Even traditional education may have lost its way in some cases. 

Education should gradually lead a person to realize truths for themselves instead of receiving them as pre-digested capsules or commandments. For example, if an individual is simply “told” to worship a formless, nameless god instead of being allowed to discover and arrive at their own version of spiritual truth, it can lead to intellectual indigestion.

What someone is supposed to realize from within often becomes enforced as an external commandment, transforming profound insights into mere “beliefs” that people then want to enforce on everyone regardless of their stage of spiritual or intellectual development. What should be the endpoint of a long spiritual or intellectual journey becomes instead the foundation of a belief system. For someone who hasn’t yet realized these truths personally, such imposed beliefs amount to superstition, defeating the entire objective of education. This is just an analogy or example. Of course, this probably never gets discussed in a modern school setting. 

Read: The Art of Thinking Clearly

The Fragmentation of Life

We have somehow accepted the division of life into separate compartments—personal, professional, spiritual, and so on—as if these weren’t deeply interconnected aspects of a single human existence. This artificial separation creates internal disharmony and prevents us from achieving genuine integration in our lives. And what is worse is there is no place where all the different aspects of life come together seamlessly and where one can exist, express and experience life as a comprehensive whole. Thus, we must wear masks and play roles in different scenarios and settings and there is no setting that helps to make a person whole and complete or even allows for such an expression without judgement and ridicule. 

Sri Aurobindo, in his essays on the Bhagavad Gita, explains the three-step solution offered by Sri Krishna, which offers a more integrated approach:

“The first step is Karmayoga, the selfless sacrifice of works, with an insistence on action. The second is Jnanayoga, the self-realization and knowledge of the true nature of self and world, with an insistence on knowledge; yet the sacrifice of works continues, and the path of Works becomes one with—but does not disappear into—the path of Knowledge. The last step is Bhaktiyoga, adoration and seeking of the supreme Self as the Divine Being, with an insistence on devotion; but knowledge remains, now raised, vitalized, and fulfilled, and still the sacrifice of works continues. This threefold path of knowledge, works, and devotion leads to the ultimate fruit: union with the divine Being and oneness with the supreme divine nature.”

Sri Aurobindo further clarifies what constitutes the true basis of action.

“When we understand the mechanism of outer Nature and how the gunas (qualities of nature) influence our actions, we see that we have not yet discovered the true basis of our activities. He points out that we must identify with our inner being: “The real truth of all this action of Prakriti is, however, less outwardly mental and more inwardly subjective. It is this that man is an embodied soul involved in material and mental nature, and he follows in it a progressive law of his development determined by an inner law of his being; his cast of spirit makes out his cast of mind and life, his Swabhava. Each man has a Swadharma, a law of his inner being which he must observe, find out and follow. The action determined by his inner nature, that is his real Dharma. To follow it is the true law of his development; to deviate from it is to bring in confusion, retardation and error.”

Thus, a person is required to discover his own true nature, his swabhava and consequently his Swadharma and a model for how to act and work. In the modern context that is a tall order. It is easier to say it than to do it. 

The Challenge of Knowing Oneself

Our modern society finds the task of self-knowledge extraordinarily difficult. One often needs guidance from a guru or teacher. But that has always been the case.

Perhaps this is why Swami Vivekananda emphasized:
“My idea of education is personal contact with the teacher—gurugrha-vāsa. Without the personal life of a teacher there would be no education. Take your universities. What have they done during the fifty years of their existence? They have not produced one original man. They are merely an examining body. The idea of the sacrifice for the common weal is not yet developed in our nation.”

But where is the scope for such a model and for such contact in the modern educational set up? Yet, if we explore this suggestion in depth and determine the underlying principles of the idea, we may be able to apply these principles to good effect. 

The Profound Disconnect in Modern Education

If you were to visit a modern school today, your observations would indeed follow a predictable pattern: “Grade 1 learning this curriculum, Grade 2 covering that material, Grade 7 working through these concepts…” What you’d witness is not education in its deepest sense, but rather a mechanized processing of groups through arbitrary curricular checkpoints.

There’s a fundamental arbitrariness in this system—not just in the curriculum itself, but in the pedagogy and in our rigid insistence that young Srinivas must be in 7th grade rather than 9th based solely on his chronological age and his ability to pass standardized exams that measure… what exactly? Certainly not wisdom, character, or true understanding.Swami Vivekananda’s vision of education as “Guru Gruha Vasa” speaks to a profound truth: genuine education cannot exist separate from the personality of the teacher.

This forces us to question these ubiquitous “Faculty Development Programs”—do they actually develop any real faculties in our teachers, or do they merely perpetuate the same flawed educational paradigm that sits at the root of our modern educational crisis, our collective “dis-ease” in education?

Some claim Indian Knowledge Systems must be “contextualized” and “made suitable” for modern circumstances. But this fundamentally misunderstands what IKS has always been about. IKS concerns itself not with external circumstances, but with the individual who finds himself amid those circumstances—how he perceives them, how he responds to them, how he grows through them. It is a shift of focus from the scene to the seer. And his drishti. And from this drishti, srishti happens.

In the modern educational factory, we see only batches of anonymous students “going through” Grade 7. In our Indic tradition, an individual “Rama” learning from a “Vasistha” is a unique event of great significance not an assembly line running through its course. It is very interesting to note that both Ayurveda and ancient education looked at each individual as a unique human being with unique characteristics, qualities and needs.

The Vital Art of Meeting Students Where They Are

The most profound teaching doesn’t follow rigid plans, but rather recognizes the precise moment of student readiness. As Sri Aurobindo wisely observed: “The first principle of true teaching is that nothing can be taught. The teacher is not an instructor or taskmaster, he is a helper and guide.”

When we discern what a student needs to learn right now—rather than imposing what we’ve scheduled to teach—we open the door to transformative learning experiences. These moments of alignment can catalyze remarkable growth, allowing the student to make significant leaps in their developmental journey. But it should not be viewed as binary. First address the immediate learning need, activate the learner, prepare the learner to learn the defined curriculum.

A note on Curriculum

Ideally the curriculum should be a gentle guideline rather than a rigid, inflexible structure. The curriculum should be objective or goal focused rather than on the methods to achieve that goal. It should give each teacher the flexibility to adapt the curriculum to the needs of individual learners. This is a tough ask but we must invest time and resources into developing pedagogies that make this possible.

Click Here For an example of one such attempt

the impact of an involved and engaged teacher

Such perceptive teaching creates a powerful realization within the student: they see that their teacher is truly present—an alert, conscious being who recognizes their internal state and stands ready to provide meaningful guidance. This recognition builds a vital bridge of trust and connection between teacher and learner, across which extraordinary learning can flow.
This connection represents a crucial step in what I call “activating the learner.”

While Sri Aurobindo is correct that nothing can be forcibly taught, students can be inspired to learn when we create the right environment and awaken their intrinsic motivation. The activated learner becomes a willing, engaged participant in their own education—the ultimate goal of genuine teaching.

Read: You only see what you are ready to see!

Gunas: The Three Basic Forces in Samkhya Philosophy

According to Samkhya philosophy, everything in the universe comes from three basic forces:

Sattva – harmony and purity
Rajas – activity and passion
Tamas – inertia and darkness

We can’t see these forces directly, but we can notice their effects in the world.
Every object or thing can make people feel pleasure, pain, or nothing at all. Something might make one person happy, another person sad, and a third person might not care about it at all.

How the Three Forces Work in Our Lives

Rajas (the active principle) serves as a transformative force in our lives. It can:
Transform tamas (inertia) into sattva (clarity)—directing energy toward positive growth
Convert sattva into tamas—depleting our mental clarity through misdirected activity

We can harness rajas in two distinct ways:
Channel rajas to cultivate sattva, enhancing meditation and higher consciousness
Allow rajas to increase tamas, resulting in lethargy and mental dullness

The optimal state requires balanced rajas:
Excess rajas → physical restlessness and mental agitation
Insufficient rajas → dysfunction in the overall guna system

External factors (substances, excessive worry, disturbances) disrupt this natural equilibrium of rajas. According to Samkhya philosophy, restoration comes through deliberately increasing sattvic activities rather than fighting against any guna. This approach reveals how sattvic predominance creates:
(1) Mental lightness
(2) Genuine happiness
(3) Clear knowledge
(4) Inner peace
While sattva itself doesn’t contain permanent happiness, its pure nature acts as a reflective medium for consciousness. When sattva dominates our mental state, it functions as a clear mirror reflecting the peace and happiness inherent in pure consciousness. Thus, the earlier in the education process we focus on learning, studying, managing and utilizing the mind the better. 

The True Basis of Education

Sri Aurobindo articulates what should be the real foundation of education: “The true basis of education is the study of the human mind, infant, adolescent and adult. Any system of education founded on theories of academic perfection, which ignores the instrument of study, is more likely to hamper and impair intellectual growth than to produce a perfect and perfectly equipped mind… He has to work in the elusive substance of mind and respect the limits imposed by the fragile human body.”

When I once asked a prominent physicist about the purpose of science and whether the mind of the scientist matters, he replied that the question made no sense. He maintained that scientists aren’t interested in their own minds or the effect of their studies on their consciousness—they only care about objectively examining their subjects while building on the work of previous scientists.

Swami Sarvapriyananda offers a contrasting perspective, noting that Indian thinkers and scientists clearly understood that the purpose of all study and investigation is to remove avidya (ignorance) and realize the true nature of the self.

Education that Nourishes the Soul

True learning should create joy in the learner. It should generate insights, spark imagination, inspire wonder, challenge and stimulate the mind, transform mental models, and leave the student with valuable life lessons. Education should help learners understand their role in the universe and their relationship with themselves, others, all living beings, the planet, and the cosmos itself.

Is our current education system accomplishing any of this? Why are children stressed about school, studies, and exams if education is supposed to be a journey of discovery and growth?
Certainly, there is some sense in separating spiritual education from vocational training, but not to the extent that we’ve done in modern times. Learning should create joy in the learner, which happens when it generates insights, sparks imagination, inspires wonder, challenges and stimulates the mind, transforms mental models, and provides valuable lessons. Education should help learners understand their place in the universe and their relationship with themselves, others, all living beings, the planet, and the cosmos.

Authentic, deep learning isn’t just about accumulating information. It psychologically settles a person, producing a profound satisfaction that nothing else can match. When done right, education nourishes the soul and touches the heart. It can put learners in a state of flow where they become so absorbed that they lose track of time and remain undisturbed by external distractions.

Does our current educational approach achieve these outcomes? The answer is painfully obvious.

Read: Happiness is not the dish: it’s the main ingredient!

The Wisdom of Tradition

Should every generation have to figure out these fundamental truths from scratch? Ideally not. That’s why traditional Indian culture developed sampradayas (traditions) and the Upadesha method (direct instruction) of transmitting knowledge.

“Sampradāya” implies transmitting spiritual knowledge in the most effective way possible. Whatever is shared must be preserved without losing its essence. Thus, sampradaya represents an unbroken chain of communication between gurus and disciples across generations.

“Upadeśa” means that what has been handed down through sampradaya is assimilated through texts along with their meanings and significance not just rote learning. Students should understand these teachings through Anubhava (personal experience) and through relishing or savoring the knowledge. The method of maintaining continuity through practice and experience is called Upadeśa.

Our tradition emphasizes the importance of practice and personal experience as opposed to mere informational education. Today’s education is more like visiting a zoo where you observe caged animals for a fee and imagine how they might behave in the wild. Actually, it’s even more removed than that. Modern education is more like seeing pictures of animals in a zoo and reading essays about them. It’s one thing to see a picture of Yakshagana and read about it in a textbook while being taught by a teacher who has never witnessed a performance; it’s entirely another to visit an Udupi village and experience a live performance seated among the villagers who have preserved this art form for centuries.

Technology Without Wisdom: A Dangerous Path

Technology that isn’t tempered and guided by a vision of social well-being—that doesn’t question itself and assumes unlimited growth is possible—is incomplete and dangerous. Today’s education and industry glorifies technology without sufficient critical evaluation of its purpose, ethics, methods, effects, consequences and negative outcomes.

Simultaneously, humanities disciplines that remain oblivious to technological developments and their impact on human life are equally blind. Current humanities departments in most universities are focused on teaching ideologies or specific narrow points of view rather than help students develop a more balanced and holistic mind and thinking that can temper excessive technological focus. It is time our humanities departments introduced a systematic study of the four purusharthas – Dharma, Artha, Kama and Moksha.

Neither technical knowledge without ethical grounding nor philosophical insight without practical application can address the complex challenges we face.

The fragmentation of knowledge into specialized disciplines has created experts who know more and more about less and less, while lacking the capacity to integrate their knowledge into a coherent whole. Scientists develop powerful technologies without considering their social implications; economists propose models that ignore environmental constraints; politicians make decisions without understanding scientific evidence; and spiritual leaders sometimes offer guidance disconnected from contemporary realities.

What we need isn’t more specialized knowledge but wisdom—the ability to see connections, understand complex systems, recognize patterns, and make decisions that account for both immediate needs and long-term consequences. This integrative wisdom was once central to educational traditions in India but has been largely abandoned in favor of technical expertise and economic utility.

Rediscovering Maturity

“Real maturity is observing your own inner turbulence and pausing before you project how you feel onto what is happening around you.” This self-awareness and emotional regulation should be a primary goal of education. Instead, our schools primarily teach content while neglecting the development of the self.

Education should produce this maturity—the capacity to understand oneself, regulate emotions, consider multiple perspectives, and act with compassion and wisdom. Yet our current approach fails to cultivate these essential human capacities, focusing instead on standardized testing, credential acquisition, and career preparation.

A Path Forward: Integrating Ancient Wisdom with Modern Knowledge

The challenge before us isn’t to reject modern education but to transform it by integrating the wisdom of traditional approaches with contemporary knowledge and methods. This doesn’t mean uncritically accepting everything from the past but recognizing that traditional educational systems often addressed aspects of human development that modern approaches neglect.

From the Indian tradition, we can draw several principles that might guide educational reform:

Recognition of individual nature (Swabhava): Education should help students discover and develop their unique qualities, talents, and purpose rather than forcing everyone into the same mold.
Integration of knowledge, action, and devotion: Learning should engage not only the intellect but also the will and the heart, preparing students to live lives of meaning and purpose.
Direct experience (Anubhava): Education should emphasize firsthand experience and practical application rather than merely abstract knowledge.
Teacher-student relationship (Guru-shishya): Personal mentorship and guidance remain essential for deep learning and character development.
Harmonizing Approaches: Educational approaches should help students develop harmony, clarity, and balance in their lives rather than simply driving activity and achievement.
Common sense and clear thinking: Education should cultivate basic reasoning abilities and sound judgment applicable across domains.
Integration of life domains: Learning should help students integrate various aspects of life rather than fragmenting existence into disconnected compartments.
These principles don’t require abandoning modern knowledge or technology but incorporating them into a more comprehensive vision of human development. They suggest an education that prepares students not only for careers but for meaningful lives—lives characterized by purpose, wisdom, compassion, and joy.

Conclusion: Towards a New Educational Paradigm

The crisis in modern education reflects a deeper crisis in our understanding of the purpose of human life itself. Rediscovering this purpose requires integrating traditional wisdom with contemporary knowledge—not returning to pre-modern models but creating new approaches that honor education’s transformative potential. True education transforms lives, helping students become not merely knowledgeable but wise, not just skilled but virtuous, not simply successful but fulfilled. Innovation does not always have to be in technological applications. Innovation in education is the need of the hour. 

This transformation demands reconsideration of both content and methodology. We must create educational environments that:
(1) Nurture the whole person
(2 ) Honor individual differences while fostering common understanding
(3) Integrate theory with practice and intellect with emotion
(4) Connect knowledge across disciplines into a coherent vision of reality

The path forward begins with acknowledging our current system’s fundamental drawbacks. By drawing on the Bhāratīya Jñāna Paramparā while embracing modern knowledge and tools, we can create an educational paradigm that serves both individuals and society—preparing students not just for jobs but for lives worth living.

As Abhinava Shankara Bharati of Kudali Sringeri Matha beautifully articulates, true learning embodies five principles:
Kakṣā Nirapekṣatā – Learning not confined to classrooms
Kāla Nirapekṣatā – Learning not restricted by time
Pustaka Nirapekṣatā – Learning not dependent solely on books
Parīkṣā Nirapekṣatā – Learning not centered around exams
Sarkāra Nirapekṣatā – Learning not reliant on government systems

True education awakens souls to their potential, helps each person discover their unique gifts and purpose, and integrates diverse insights into a coherent understanding of reality. By recovering this holistic vision, we can address not just the crisis in our schools but the deeper crisis of meaning that pervades modern society.

सा विद्या या विमुक्तये…
True Vidya is that which liberates (a person from avidya). 

The goal is not merely better educational institutions but a better world—one characterized by wisdom, compassion, and genuine human flourishing. This approach bridges ancient wisdom and modern knowledge, creating an education system that transforms individuals, enriches communities, and fosters a society guided by wisdom rather than mere economic growth metrics. However, there is still more to say on this. More on that later. 
 

Next: A more detailed on the “How to fix it?” portion is coming soon…

The post The Blind Spots of Modern Education and How to Fix Them first appeared on Vinay Kulkarni.

Likewise, immerse yourself in the sacred study of the shastras. Let their wisdom fill your being. Let them challenge and shape your understanding. Let them expand your horizons. But do not become a Pandit. If others call you one, let them. But in your own mind, remain free. Become nothing. Just be.

Maybe you are a seeker. Maybe you are someone on a journey for knowledge, for truth. No—not even that. Seek to know, but do not let seeking become your identity. The moment you see yourself as “a seeker,” you have already built walls around yourself. The seeker’s journey becomes an institution, an establishment, a fixed path. And in doing so, you have lost the very thing you sought—truth in its rawest, purest, most unshaped form.

Whatever label you choose, that label will shape you. It will confine you. It will define the way you see the world. It will become your prison. You will become your position. You will become your point of view.

Certainly you can have a point of view. You must. But do not become identified with your point of view. Do not mistake your perspective for truth itself. When you attach yourself to a position, you become rigid. And an imprisoned mind cannot think freely. A free mind moves. It flows. It adapts. It shifts, not out of inconsistency, but out of a commitment to truth beyond personal investment.

Learn concepts. Study them deeply. Use them wisely. But do not become them. Concepts are tools, not truths. A map is not the territory. A model of reality is not reality itself. If you want to access phenomenal reality, you must be willing to break through concepts, not worship them. The greatest breakthroughs happen when we dare to step beyond what we know. The most profound realizations arise in moments of silence, when concepts fall away, and we see directly.
Write books, but do not become an author. Let words flow from you. Let them create, destroy, inspire, and challenge. But in your own mind, tell yourself you are nothing. The moment you say, “I am an author,” you risk writing for the identity rather than for the truth. Use the boat to reach the shore but then be ready to let that boat go after you reach the shore.

Most of all, never accept an ideology as your own. Never let yourself be absorbed into a belief system. The moment you do, you have decided the answer before truly understanding the problem. You have chosen a side before seeing the whole. You have limited your ability to think, to perceive, to understand. Ideology is a pre-packaged mental framework that spares you the effort of thinking for yourself. Do not take the easy way. Think. Question. Explore.

Do not paint yourself into boxes. Concept boxes. Position boxes. Point-of-view boxes. Category boxes. These are the barriers that restrict your mind. The moment you settle into a box, your vision is limited to its walls. You stop seeing beyond. You stop questioning what is outside. Painting yourself into concept or other boxes means you are superimposing a map or many maps onto reality and hence you will be only seeing a conceptual reality and the phenomenal reality underlying all concepts and ideas will be inaccessible to you. People say apples and oranges are different but they miss the fact that both are fruits. People say black and white are different but both are colors.

Learn to think without second hand labels and distinctions. Try to see things for what they are instead of looking at them through conceptual lenses. You know thinking is very risky business and one must be ready to encounter many strange beasts. But be a slayer of these beasts, never a victim. Learn to think “from” your “self.” The self is all there is. 

Do whatever you need to do whenever you need to do it, but do not become identified with what you do. In any case, Sri Krishna has said you are not the doer. Most of the chaos and confusion in the world is because of people who have painted themselves into boxes coming to the table to debate—not to seek the truth, not to ask what is the truth of the matter and what is the right thing to do, but only to defend their right to superimpose their own maps onto the territory, only to defend their right to stay imprisoned in their own boxes and to persuade or cajole others to join them in those boxes.

As Sri Ramakrishna said, bondage is of the mind and freedom is also of the mind. 

Freedom is always ‘from something.’ What are you to be free from? Obviously, you need to be free from the person you take yourself to be, for it is the idea you have of yourself that keeps you in bondage.
~ Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj

Step outside all these boxes and enter the nothing box. The Shoonya box. This is not an empty void. It is not a lack of thought. It is a state of pure, unfiltered awareness. A space within your mind that is directly connected to the cosmic mind. In this space, creativity flows unhindered. Insights arise without preconceptions. Understanding emerges from the depths, untainted by dogma, ideology, or identity.

Certainly, think out of the box. But let your mainstay be the Shoonya box. It is from this place of absolute emptiness that the greatest ideas, the deepest wisdom, and the most transformative breakthroughs arise. And the best part? It has been inside you all along.
So be. Just be.
 

The post The Art of Thinking Clearly: Beyond Labels, Concepts, and Boxes first appeared on Vinay Kulkarni.

The post Collaboration for Truth first appeared on Vinay Kulkarni.

In the ancient text of Yoga Vasishtha, sage Vasishtha teaches: “The mind creates its own bondage and the mind creates its own liberation.” This profound truth lies at the heart of how assumptions shape our reality, creating suffering where none need exist.
 
The Upanishads speak of “avidya” – ignorance that clouds our perception of reality. As the Katha Upanishad states: “The self-existent Lord created the senses to turn outward. Thus we look to the world outside and see not the Self within us.” This outward gaze leads us to paint reality with the colors of our assumptions, missing the deeper truth that lies beneath.
 
Sri Ramakrishna taught through a simple parable: A man walking in darkness saw a rope and assumed it was a snake. His heart pounded, his body trembled with fear, until someone brought a light and showed him it was merely a rope. Such is the nature of our assumptions – they create phantoms that haunt us needlessly.
 
The Bhagavad Gita speaks of “gunasya dharma” – the inherent nature of things. When we assume, we override this natural state with our mental projections. As Krishna counsels Arjuna: “Perform action, O Dhananjaya, abandoning attachment, being steadfast in yoga, and balanced in success and failure.” This balance is impossible when we are caught in the web of our assumptions.
 

An ancient Indian tale powerfully illustrates this truth through a story captured in the beautiful Kannada poem “Keliddu Sullaaga Bahudu” (What you hear may be false, what you see may be false). The poem tells of Gangamma, who lived in a forest dwelling with her baby and a faithful mongoose. One day, needing water, she left her baby in the mongoose’s care. While she was gone, a cobra entered their home, threatening the child. The loyal mongoose fought and killed the snake, its mouth stained with blood from the battle. When Gangamma returned and saw the blood on the mongoose’s mouth, her mind immediately conjured the worst scenario. In her anguish and rage, she struck the mongoose dead with her water pot. Only then did she enter to find her baby safe, sleeping peacefully beside the dead cobra – a tragic testament to the price of hasty judgment.
 
This story reveals a profound truth about the physiology of assumption. When we make erroneous assumptions, particularly those that envision worst-case scenarios, our body and mind don’t distinguish between imagination and reality. They react as if our darkest fears are actually occurring, triggering a cascade of physical, physiological, mental, and emotional responses. Just as Gangamma’s assumption led her to commit an irreversible act, our assumptions can create self-fulfilling prophecies in three devastating ways:
 
(1) We make our worst fears manifest through our misguided reactions
(2) We amplify situations beyond their actual severity
(3) We inflict significant physical and emotional damage upon ourselves

To counter this phenomenon, we can adopt a practice that involves regulation of our breath – our most fundamental connection to life itself. The practice is focused on establishing and returning to what we might call our “base breath.”

To find this base breath, begin by surrendering – let the body breathe by itself, without any effort or control. Observe how the breath flows when you relinquish all attempt to guide it. This natural, effortless breathing is your base state. Like a village woman carrying a pot of water on her head must maintain perfect balance to prevent spillage, you must maintain awareness of this breath as you move through your day.
 
As you encounter various situations and interactions, notice how your breath responds. Does it quicken when someone doesn’t return your call? Does it become shallow when you feel slighted? These changes in breath pattern are early warning signs of assumption and reaction taking hold. The practice is simple yet demanding: whenever you notice your breath deviating from its base state, gently guide it back. Don’t fight or force – simply return to that natural rhythm you identified in moments of peace.
 
This practice of breath awareness gradually leads us toward the yogic ideal of “stitha prajna” – the state of steady wisdom where external events no longer provoke strong reactions. Just as a deep lake remains undisturbed by surface waves, one who maintains awareness of their base breath develops a profound stillness that prevents hasty assumptions from taking root.

The ancient wisdom traditions understood what modern science now confirms: our bodies respond to our thoughts as if they were reality. When we assume the worst, our nervous system activates its stress response – cortisol floods our system, our heart rate increases, our breathing becomes shallow, and our capacity for clear thinking diminishes. This biological reality makes the practice of breath awareness not just spiritually significant but physiologically essential. Modern medical science reveals the full scope of how anxiety and fear-based assumptions affect our bodies:
 

1. Central Nervous System: When we make fearful assumptions, our brain floods our system with stress hormones like adrenaline and cortisol. While these hormones are helpful for genuine threats, chronic activation through persistent negative assumptions can lead to headaches, dizziness, and depression.
 
2. Cardiovascular System: Fear-based assumptions trigger rapid heart rate, palpitations, and chest pain. Chronic anxiety can increase risk of high blood pressure and heart disease.
 
3. Respiratory System: Anxiety causes rapid, shallow breathing – exactly what the practice of base breath awareness helps prevent. This can worsen conditions like asthma and COPD.
 
4. Digestive and Immune Systems: Chronic stress from persistent negative assumptions can cause stomach aches, nausea, diarrhea, and weakened immunity, making us more vulnerable to illness.
 
5. Muscular System: The tension created by anxiety and fear-based assumptions can cause chronic muscle tension and physical fatigue.

By maintaining our base breath, we create a biological anchor that helps prevent our body-mind system from spiraling into these assumption-driven stress responses. This practice becomes both a spiritual and medical intervention.
 
As the Kannada poem concludes: “Nidhaanisi Yochisidaaga Nijavu Thilivudu” – When we think calmly and carefully, the truth becomes clear. This wisdom echoes through every tradition that teaches us to pause, breathe, and look more deeply before allowing assumptions to guide our actions.

The Mundaka Upanishad declares: “Truth alone triumphs, not falsehood.” Our assumptions are often falsehoods we tell ourselves, veiling the simple truth of what is. The practice of breath awareness becomes our tool for lifting this veil, allowing us to see reality as it truly is, moment by moment.
 
In this way, we transform what could be poison into medicine, learning from each instance where our assumptions led us astray. Every challenging interaction becomes an opportunity for growth, every misunderstanding a step toward wisdom.
 

A beloved tale* carries this wisdom forward: A king once asked his wise men, “Is there a single mantra that holds truth for all moments – in victory and defeat, in joy and sorrow?” After much deliberation, they presented him with a sealed message, with one condition – he could open it only in his darkest hour.
 
Months later, the kingdom fell to invaders. The king fled alone, eventually finding himself trapped at the edge of a cliff, enemy horses thundering closer. In this moment of despair, sunlight glinted off his ring, reminding him of the message. With trembling hands, he opened it and read: “This too shall pass.”
 
Something shifted within him as he absorbed these words. Just as his days of glory had passed, so too would this moment of danger. In his newfound calm, he noticed for the first time the stunning beauty of the cliffside – a part of his own kingdom he’d never truly seen before. The sounds of pursuit faded as his enemies took a different path through the mountains.
 
The king survived, regrouped his forces, and eventually reclaimed his kingdom. During the magnificent celebration that followed, as flowers rained down from every window and songs of victory filled the streets, he felt pride swelling in his chest. “Truly,” he thought, “I am invincible.”
 
But then the sun caught his ring again. Reading those same words – “This too shall pass” – his pride dissolved into wisdom. He realized: neither the defeat nor the victory belonged to him. He was simply witnessing the endless dance of life’s changing circumstances.
 

This story illuminates a profound truth: our assumptions about both triumphs and troubles are equally misleading. Nothing is permanent – not our judgments, not our fears, not even our certainties. When we truly understand this, we can release our grip on assumptions altogether and become pure witnesses to life’s flowing river.
 
In doing so, we honor both the ancient wisdom and our modern need for clear, compassionate understanding in an increasingly complex world. For in the end, all assumptions shall pass, but the truth of what is remains ever-present for those with eyes to see.

*https://www.citehr.com/346028-too-shall-pass-thought-provoking-story.html

The post Cutting through the misty veil of Maya first appeared on Vinay Kulkarni.

 
In the vast landscape of human experience, success is often defined by material achievements, societal recognition, and the pursuit of goals. This definition propels countless individuals into a relentless chase, believing that fulfillment lies somewhere beyond their current state. However, the timeless wisdom of the Vedas, Upanishads, Bhagavad Gita, Ashtavakra Gita, Avadhuta Gita, Kashmir Shaivism, Shiva Sutras, and other ancient scriptures offers a radically different perspective: success is not something to be achieved; it is an inherent state of being. This article delves into various definitions of success, distills insights from ancient teachings, and ultimately settles on a profound, effort-free definition of success rooted in the eternal bliss of the Self.
 
 
The Conventional Definitions of Success
From the earliest days of human civilization, success has often been tied to external accomplishments. Wealth, power, influence, and intellectual mastery are frequently viewed as hallmarks of a successful life. Modern thinkers like Steve Jobs emphasize passion, perseverance, and the ability to endure hardship:
 
“You’ve got to have an idea or a problem or a wrong that you want to right… Otherwise, you’re not going to have the perseverance to stick it through.”
 
This perspective highlights the value of determination and effort, presenting success as the result of a journey through challenges. Similarly, Paramahansa Yogananda equates success with sustained effort and alignment with divine will:
 
“Your success in life does not depend only upon natural ability; it also depends upon your determination to grasp the opportunity that is presented to you.”
 
While inspiring, such definitions imply that success lies in the future, creating a perpetual pursuit. This idea, though empowering, often leads to dissatisfaction, as the goalpost of success keeps shifting.

Key insight: By the time a person begins to think, a very tall and deep foundation of pre-digested, undigested, cooked, uncooked thought has already been built in his mind. So, when he or she beings to think, the thoughts arise from this foundation, this substratum. The key building blocks which are full of half-baked assumptions, unverified “facts” and untested “theories” are already there. These are never brought out and examined under the sun. These are never revisited. 99% of the people don’t even know these things exist in their minds. They truly, honestly believe their mind is generating pure and original thoughts independent of this layer foundation of old thought material. I encourage everyone to take an earth mover and dig up these mounds of thought earth and see what you find. So for most people the definition of success does not come from inside, it comes from outside mixed with all that other junky thoughts using which their mind was actually constructed! So, they may be able to define success but they may not be able to tell you why they want that so bad!
 

 
 
Effort and Fate: The Teachings of Sage Vasishta
Sage Vasishta’s teachings offer a nuanced view of effort and fate. He describes fate as the cumulative result of past actions but asserts that present effort has the power to transform it:
 
“Present acts destroy those of the past life, and those of the past life can destroy the effect of present acts, but the exertions of a man are undoubtedly successful.”
 
He compares the struggle between fate and effort to two rams locked in battle, where the stronger one prevails. This philosophy encourages human agency and acknowledges the transformative potential of courage and diligence. Yet, it also cautions against despair when external circumstances seem insurmountable:
 
“As a hail shower lays waste the cultivation of a whole year, so also does predominant fate sometimes overpower the attempts of this life. However, it does not behoove us to be sorry at the loss of our long-earned treasure, for what does it serve to have sorrow for something that is beyond our control?”
 
These teachings emphasize balance: effort is essential, but surrendering to the flow of life is equally important.
 
The Inner Alignment: Swabhava and Svadharma
In the Bhagavad Gita, success is framed as alignment with one’s Swabhava (inherent nature) and Svadharma (duty aligned with that nature). Krishna advises Arjuna:
 
“It is better to perform one’s own dharma, even imperfectly, than to perform another’s dharma perfectly.” (Bhagavad Gita 18.47)
 
This wisdom underscores authenticity. Success arises not from external validation but from living in harmony with one’s intrinsic qualities. For example, a teacher’s success lies in imparting knowledge, while a warrior’s success lies in upholding justice. Swami Vivekananda echoes this sentiment:
 
“Take up one idea. Make that one idea your life—think of it, dream of it, live on that idea.”
 
Such alignment leads to inner fulfilment, yet it still revolves around action and duty. Is there a higher state of success, free from even these subtle pursuits?

In the Bhagavad Gita (Chapter 18, Verse 14), Lord Krishna outlines five factors essential for the accomplishment of any action. These five factors emphasize the interplay between human effort, external circumstances, and divine grace:


The Five Factors of Success
1. Adhishthana (The Body):
The body serves as the physical foundation for performing actions. Without a functioning body, no action is possible, making it the first essential factor.
2. Karta (The Doer):
The individual who performs the action. The karta includes the soul’s identification with the body-mind-intellect complex, as influenced by the ego and willpower.
3. Karana (The Instruments):
These are the various senses, organs, and tools required to carry out the action. For example, hands for manual work, speech for communication, or external tools for achieving specific goals.
4. Cheshta (Effort):
The effort, energy, and intention put forth by the individual to accomplish the task. This includes physical, mental, and emotional exertion.
5. Daiva (Divine Providence):
The unseen forces, destiny, or grace of the Divine that influence the outcome of an action. While effort is crucial, divine will and external circumstances also play a significant role.

Even if you can control and manipulate the first four factors, the fifth factor is something you cannot control by definition!

 
The Bliss of Effortlessness: Insights from the Ashtavakra and Avadhuta Gitas
The Ashtavakra Gita takes us beyond action and duty, pointing to the ultimate realization that success is not a pursuit but an inherent state:
 
“You are the one witness of everything, and are always completely free. The cause of your bondage is that you see the witness as something other than this.” (Ashtavakra Gita 1.7)
 
This teaching shatters the illusion of becoming. It asserts that the Self is already complete, requiring no external achievements to validate its existence. The Avadhuta Gita expands on this:
 
“The Self is pure consciousness, beyond action, beyond desire, beyond effort. It is untouched by the fruits of actions and free from the illusions of gain and loss.”
 
Abhinavagupta, a luminary of Kashmir Shaivism, describes the experience of self-realization as a state of spontaneous bliss:
 
“The supreme reality is the universal consciousness. When the individual realizes their unity with this consciousness, they attain the state of effortless freedom, known as ‘Sahaja’ (natural state).”
 
The Shiva Sutras echo this sentiment:
 
“By meditation on one’s own true nature, the universe becomes an extension of the Self.” (Shiva Sutras 1.5)

In a sense, success lies in the effortless awareness of the Self, transcending the limitations of effort and duality. Because this success aligns with the cosmic purpose of your life!
 

The Pot of Water: A Metaphor for Inner Focus
Imagine a village woman walking 2 miles to fetch water in a mud pot. She balances the pot on her head and walks back home. Her full focus is on that pot, and she pays no attention to the distractions around her. Even if she stops to talk to someone, she does so while keeping her focus on the pot. The pot represents her highest state of being—a state of bliss, peace, and presence. It symbolizes the state of being fully connected to the divine, being in communion with the eternal now, and surrendering to the flow of life.
This metaphor teaches that true success lies in maintaining unwavering focus on your inner state of bliss, regardless of external stimuli. It’s about avoiding reactions to external distractions that might disturb your state of balance and peace, just as the woman avoids actions that might cause the pot to fall. At every possibility of a disturbance, ask yourself, “The pot of water or reacting to the taunts of the other village women, which one is more important?”

 
The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali highlight this focus:
 
“Yoga is the cessation of the fluctuations of the mind.” (Yoga Sutras 1.2)
 
When the mind is steady, success is not sought but revealed as the natural state of being.
 
Success as Surrender and Stillness
Bhagavan Ramana Maharshi and Sri Papaji emphasize the power of surrender. Maharshi describes the waking world as a dream, urging us to transcend its illusions:
 
“Just as the dream-world, being only a part of yourself and not different from you, ceases to interest you upon waking, so also the present world would cease to interest you if you awaken to your true Self.”
 
Sri Papaji reinforces this with radical simplicity:
 
“Don’t try to become anything, don’t go anywhere, don’t do anything, and don’t undo anything. Simply stay quiet. This is bliss, nothing else.”
 
The Shiva Samhita adds another layer to this understanding:
 
“The yogi who sees all beings in the Self and the Self in all beings, whose mind is steady and filled with inner light, is truly free.”
 
These teachings redirect the seeker from doing to being. Success, in this view, is not measured by accomplishments but by one’s ability to rest in the effortless awareness of the Self.
 

A Unified Definition of Success
True success transcends all definitions rooted in effort, fate, or achievement. It is the state of being fully present, undisturbed by the past or future, and anchored in the bliss of one’s true nature. This state is characterized by:
 
1. Effortless Being: Success is not something to strive for but to recognize within. Like the flute in Krishna’s hands or Shiva’s damaru, you are an instrument of divine harmony.
2. Inner Focus: Maintain unwavering awareness of your inner state, like the woman balancing the pot of water. Engage with the world without losing sight of your inherent bliss.
3. Surrender to the Divine: Let go of the illusion of control. Success lies in surrendering to the flow of life, trusting that you are already complete.

First come up with your Own definition of success without any input from anyone, living or Dead. no books, no videos, no movies, no speeches, no discourses, no coaching, no consultation; truly your own Definition of Success. One that does not give rise to a journey but keeps you rooted to where you are, in your highest state of effortless bliss. In other words, a definition of success that produces stillness rather than furtive movement. That helps you remain in an already experienced state of bliss and in fact helps you establish it or establish yourself in it more strongly. Something that does not take you anywhere – only makes you realise there is no where to go but right here, right now. Something that makes you realise that this shore is that shore and there is no ocean to cross. You are already in the ocean of joy. If your definition of success can show you how to remain in the ocean of bliss you have already discovered yourself to be, then its a keeper. No other person can show you how to be successful as only you know your own purpose. You should!

 Practical Steps to Embody Success
To integrate this profound understanding into daily life, consider these practices:
 
1. Self-Inquiry: Reflect on the question, “Who am I?” This will reveal the false identifications that keep you bound to the pursuit of external success.
2. Mindful Awareness: Treat your inner state like the pot of water. Stay centered, avoiding reactions that disturb your equilibrium.
3. Detach from Outcomes: Follow the Bhagavad Gita’s principle of Nishkama Karma (desireless action). Act with sincerity but without attachment to results.
4. Seek Wisdom: Immerse yourself in the scriptures, such as the Shiva Sutras, Upanishads, and Gitas. Their teachings illuminate the path to effortless success.
5. Surrender Daily: Begin and end each day with a moment of surrender. Acknowledge that your true nature is beyond effort and achievement.
 
Success, as defined by the highest teachings, is not a destination or an achievement. It is the realization that you are already complete, already blissful, and already free. The pot on the woman’s head is your inner state of peace. Walk through life with grace, undisturbed by external distractions or internal doubts. The world’s definitions of success will fade into irrelevance as you awaken to the truth that you are the success you have always sought.
 

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