We speak much of our civilisation. We speak, again and again of the achievements of science.

We speak of the wonderful things done, according to some, in the past two centuries. We speak, especially, of our economic and industrial gains.

We speak of our new educational experiments. And we speak of our democratic institutions and of the rights of men. But I have asked myself the question: “Have animals no rights?”

We speak of the rights of man: do we speak of the duties of man to the bird and beast?

Horses, bullocks and camels are overworked, lashed and, in other ways, cruelly treated. Cows, oxen, goats and other domestic animals, when they become old and unfit for work, are driven out, or sold to the butcher. What a pity!




They served in the day when they were strong. Have they no right to pass in peace the evening of their life? The same rule applies to animals. A traveller tells us he saw an old camel near a hut passing the evening of its days in plenty and tranquillity.

Appalling, indeed, is the suffering of these animals whose helper and guardian man should be, just because man’s mind is richer. Yet, alas!

We let them suffer day by day. With anguish in my heart, I pray to Him, my Lord and my Master: “O Thou, who hearest pain of the weakest and lowliest of Thy creatures! Teach our hearts to hear their pain, to hear the voice of these voiceless ones, to hear them and heal them.”

Humanity was disgraced by what was formerly done to slaves, women and children. Humanity is still disgraced by what is done to animals.

This seems to be one of those long-closed avenues of development.

The fate of a dog chained for life to the wall in uncivilised villages, unprotected from frost and the heat of the sun, a horse harnessed to an overloaded cart with his master making a fire under him to urge him on, animals bred for fur and adornment, wild animals and birds in cages, and animals offered as sacrifices – these are but a few instances of the hell suffered by animals all over the world.

It takes centuries for egoism to yield to insight. Future generations will see our present acts of cruelty towards innocent creatures as unbelievable barbarity.

They will be surprised not only at our indifference but at our attempts to justify our conduct. They will feel humiliated to be our posterity.

Is there not a brotherhood broader than the East, broader than the West? Is there not a brotherhood broader than that of Humanity?

There is the Brotherhood of Life: to it belong birds and beasts, animals and insects.

If we could but appreciate the poetry of animal life. Some of the birds are a miracle of beauty in nature’s wonderland. There is the great

Cosmic Law that what you do comes back to you. What you do unto others, you do unto yourselves. You are your own friend, and you are your ownenemy.

Be your own friend. Do not be your enemy! He who blesses others is blessed, and he who injures others is injured. Such is the Great Law.

Kindly observe November 25 as International Meatless Day

Who thought that ‘6-7’ would be selected as ‘word’ of the year 2025 by Dictionary.com, while conceding that ‘6-7’ is a usage that is impossible to define? And on his talk show, an exasperated Stephen Colbert lamented that ‘6-7’ is not even a word; it is a numeral!

Many may be familiar with the idiomatic phrase, to be ‘at sixes and sevens’ denoting a state of confusion, uncertainty or simply put, when one feels addled. What does ‘6-7’ mean, something that the Alpha generation and Gen Z have made a part of their vocabulary?

The numerical term was first heard used by rapper Skrilla in a song, something thrown in for effect or rhythm, perhaps, not intended to mean anything. Now it has gone viral among teens, who delight in the fact that adults are stumped and puzzled, wracking their brains as to what this new slang could possibly mean.

And nothing could delight youngsters more than their communications to be incomprehensible to adults.

That apart, it is interesting to extrapolate on such usages, and ponder over phrases like Unees-bees (19-20 in Hindi) and Comme ci Comme sa (in French).




The former alludes to a minor difference in measurement or quality and the latter refers to something that is indefinable, neither here nor there, as in saying something like neither are things going well with me nor are they going not-so-well. Delightful uncertainty.

Today, no one has the patience to listen to word-filled speeches. With digital explosion and short attention spans, acronyms, slang, and emojis have become ubiquitous, as has the amorphous ‘6-7’. Filibusters in Parliament are now history. There is more of aggression, and outbursts, rather than well-thought-out, even literary, expressions of opinion, anguish and concern.

The most infuriating response a tween could give to an adult, is to fall silent, say some. For silence can be deafening. In one of his works of science fiction, Arthur C Clarke wrote of how one fine day, all triggers in the world became disenabled. So no guns could fire, and the world fell silent, so to speak, and what else could prevail then, but peace?

To live in a soundless world may mean the end of firing and abuse, shouting and screaming, but it may also mean the end of good music and conversations, of the chirping of birds and gurgling of streams, of the crunch of a crisp wafer in your mouth, of waves breaking, of whooshing winds and the pitter-patter of rain.

A world that falls completely silent would be a dead world. As someone said philosophically, if a tree falls in the forest, and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? It is all about observation and perception.

Many existential questions could arise, like, could something exist outside of our consciousness? That is, if we do not observe or perceive it?

A sound is a sound, only if it is perceived by the ear. And by that token, 6-7 is a word only if it is perceived so by those using it in the word-sense.

And with all of this, now I am experiencing a kind of 6-7 situation, something that I am unable to put in words, with all the addling going on. Maybe 6-7 is the answer, then.

brotherhood broader than that of Humanity?

There is the Brotherhood of Life: to it belong birds and beasts, animals and insects.

If we could but appreciate the poetry of animal life. Some of the birds are a miracle of beauty in nature’s wonderland. There is the great

Cosmic Law that what you do comes back to you. What you do unto others, you do unto yourselves. You are your own friend, and you are your ownenemy.

Be your own friend. Do not be your enemy! He who blesses others is blessed, and he who injures others is injured. Such is the Great Law.

Kindly observe November 25 as International Meatless Day

By Tapan Susheel

A concept highlighted in James Clear’s influential book, Atomic Habits , often referred to as the Bible of habit science, suggests that success is closely tied to our habits. Clear argues that ‘success is the product of daily habits’ and that ‘your habits shape your destiny.’ This idea aligns with the Greek philosopher Aristotle’s wisdom; he said that 95% of everything you do is the result of habit, raising an important question: what types of habits are there, and how do they affect our lives?

Habits can indeed be classified into two types, each having a profound impact on our actions and life direction. Positive habits, such as goal setting, time management, and continuous learning, act as catalysts for productivity and achievement. In contrast, negative habits, including laziness, procrastination, and addiction to alcohol or drugs, can serve as obstacles, impeding progress and success. Developing positive habits promotes discipline, resilience, and personal growth, laying the foundation for long-term success.




A habit is a repeated behaviour that, according to the Cambridge Dictionary, is ‘something you do often and regularly, sometimes without realising it.’ Meanwhile, success can be broadly defined as achievement of personal goals through one’s own efforts.

JK Rowling’s and John McAfee’s lives offer valuable insights into the relationship between habits and success. Rowling’s story highlights the transformative power of positive habits. Despite facing repeated rejections and personal hardships, she remained committed to writing daily, even while juggling the demands of single parenthood and financial struggles. Her persistence ultimately led to the global success of the Harry Potter series, making her a literary icon.

On the other hand, John McAfee, a pioneering computer programmer who developed the first commercial antivirus software and built a company worth millions of pounds by the 1990s, saw his life unravel due to addiction to alcohol and drugs. By 2021, at the age of 75, instead of enjoying his later years in comfort and peace surrounded by loved ones, he died in a prison cell in Spain as a fugitive.

Benjamin Suulola, a respected leadership expert, succinctly captures the essence of the relationship between habits and success: “The habits that govern our lives determine whether we will be victors or victims.” Thus, cultivating positive habits through a disciplined lifestyle becomes essential for achieving success. Jack Canfield, a co-author of the famous Chicken Soup for the Soul series, reinforces this idea, stating, “Your habits will determine your future

By Ullhas Pagey

Pitru Paksh, beginning with the full moon of Bhadrapada and ending at the new moon of Ashwin, calls families to pause, reflect, and offer gratitude to their ancestors.

As autumn’s breeze carries whispers of the past, people gather by rivers or in homes, presenting pinds, simple balls of rice and sesame to soothe their ancestors’ souls, fulfilling a timeless duty that binds generations in love and respect.

The roots of Pitru Paksh stretch deep into the Mahabharat, an epic that tells of Karn, who, after his death, found himself in a heavenly realm, his soul hungry despite his earthly charity. He had given gold to the living but neglected his ancestors.




Yam, the guardian of the afterlife, granted Karn a brief return to earth, a fortnight to perform shradh, a ritual of offerings to nourish his forebears’ spirits.

From this divine act, Pitru Paksh was born, a reminder that our lives are woven with those of our ancestors. By honouring them, we receive their blessings for our own journey towards inner freedom.

Pitru Paksh is more than a ritual; it is a heartfelt act of connection, a way to repay the debt we owe our ancestors for the gift of life. This duty, called pitru rin , is a cornerstone of our tradition, alongside obligations to the Divine.

Families offer tarpan; water poured with prayers to send love and energy to their pitrs, helping them rest in higher realms.

The waning moon during this period symbolises letting go of selfishness, inviting us to reflect deeply, much like a seeker striving for inner peace.

People avoid starting new ventures to focus on these quiet acts of remembrance, often reciting verses from sacred texts such as the Garud Puran that warn of struggles ancestors face if their souls are not honoured.

Pitru Paksh reminds us that our ancestors are an integral part of us, and by caring for them, we heal ourselves, finding clarity and purpose in our lives.

This reverence for ancestors is not unique to India; other cultures, too, hold space for the departed, showing a shared human need to stay connected across time. In Christianity, families pray for deceased loved ones in purgatory on All Souls’ Day.

In China, people honour their ancestors during the Qingming Festival with food and incense, in a way that echoes Pitru Paksh’s spirit of gratitude. Japanese light lanterns during the Obon festival to guide spirits home, blending Buddhist and Shinto beliefs to help ancestors find peace.

These traditions reveal a universal truth: honouring the past strengthens our path forward, uniting us with those who shaped our lives. Pitru Paksh philosophy is simple yet profound. Feeding crows, seen as messengers of Yam, is a humble act of giving, symbolising purity and goodwill.

It reminds us that our actions ripple beyond the present, touching lives of those who were there before and those yet to come.

Rituals offering food, water, and prayers are acts of love that clear obstacles, not just for ancestors but for us, bringing harmony to our homes and hearts.

As the Bhagwad Gita beautifully affirms: “Whatever you do, whatever you eat, whatever you offer or give away, do that as an offering to Me.”

By Jug Suraiya

When we think of the environment, we think of the world out there, and for the majority of us, that world out there is of increasing concern because of the jeopardy it faces through our interaction with it.

In pursuit of what we deem to be progress, we have darkened the skies with the smoke of factories, our ‘dark satanic mills’. We have poisoned the oceans and rivers with industrial effluents, garbage and oil spills.

We have cut down forests and turned green woodland and fields into arid desert.

We have even given a geological name to what we have done to this world outside by calling it the Anthropocene epoch, denoting an age in which human activity has adversely, perhaps irreversibly, affected entire ecosystems, resulting in climate change, extreme weather events like floods and droughts, and wiped out whole species of flora and fauna at an estimated rate of 30,000 every year.




We have imperilled, perhaps beyond salvation, the outer world in which we live. But as we accord paramountcy to all efforts and rescue missions to save this world on which our own survival depends, it is imperative that we not overlook that other world, equally crucial to our existence, which is the world within us. That limitless landscape of the spirit, the internal environment of consciousness.

The outer world of the physical environment is an infinitely intricate web of interdependent relationships, each supporting and complementing all others. The greater the complexity and diversity of these interactive linkages, the richer and more resilient is the environment.

The fewer and less varied the interconnections, the more barren and sterile the ecosystem. Think of a Sahara desert; think of an Amazon rainforest.

Which of the two is more life-supportive, more enriched and enriching?

The inner world of consciousness, the ecosystem of mind and spirit, is founded on the same principle of plenitude: the greater and more numerous the divergences it encompasses, the more rainforest-fertile and life-affirmative it is, in contrast to the sterile sameness of the Sahara.

The health of the environment, external or internal, is based on its capacity to absorb and sustain the heterogeneity on which it thrives; homogeneity leads to the barrenness of desolate wasteland.

In today’s world, diversity, both of the physical outer world and that of the inner world of the psyche, is threatened by the seemingly unstoppable steamroller of mass-produced similarity, be it in terms of tangible products or intangible perceptions of customs and cultural differences, political ideology, religious belief, or lack of it.

Increasingly, there is less and less space for non-conformism in any or all of its many variants; the individual who would march to a different drummer is subsumed under the overriding orchestration of an undifferentiated majority.

In his 1982 apocalyptic book, The Fate of the Earth, American journalist and author Jonathan Schell postulated a post-nuclear holocaust world as a devastated “Republic of grass and insects”.

That metaphor seems as chillingly appropriate in the context of the environmental degradation of both our outer and inner worlds.

Both environments are in vital need of protection by Greenpeace eco-warriors in the conjoined realms of matter and mind.

US President Donald Trump recently approved the process to rename the US Defense Department. It will go back to the earlier, post-World War II nomenclature: Department of War, “as it sounds better”.

The New York Times reports that “this measure has been expected for some time, and it underscores Mr Trump’s efforts to reshape the military to align with his goals of projecting a more aggressive image by showcasing war-fighting capabilities”.

Intention is what eventually gets translated into action. If the intention is aggression, then war cannot be far behind.

If the intention is peace, then there is a good chance that wars could be averted and peace, attained. UNESCO in the Preamble to its Constitution states: “Since wars begin in the minds of men, it is in the minds of men that the defences of peace must be constructed.”

If Donald Trump as President of the United States is stating his intention to operate from a space of aggression and force, what hope could there be for even a glimmer of peace? War-fighting capabilities are taking precedence over peace-building capabilities.




When going to war or aggression is your baseline, then there is little chance of exploring peaceful options that could avert war and bloodshed, avoid loss of lives and livelihoods.

War-mongering encourages negative emotions like anger and revenge; they spread feelings of hatred, of division and isolation rather than nurturing feelings of love and togetherness, unity and connectedness.

“No one is born hating another person because of the colour of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite,” said Nelson Mandela.

Former chairperson of Bennett, Coleman and Company, Indu Jain, an ardent advocate of peace, would often say that woman power is often invoked as both Shakti and Shanti. These two aspects may be perceived as being diametric opposites, but they in fact, complement one another.

For, power is not only the power to destroy; it is also power to create and nurture peace. As embodiments of both these qualities, women are spiritual lifelines in society; they are normally never instigators of violence and war, she would say.

Muscle power and aggression may invoke fear and thereby create the illusion of power; aggressors are indeed powerful but their power is short-lived and destructive. Love and understanding create more lasting relationships and these could be so powerful that they become formidable, even invincible.

When the foundation of a relationship is respect and love, the superstructure stays strong, no matter how grave the challenges are; but when the foundation is made with aggression, hatred and suspicion, the superstructure could crumble and get destroyed in seconds.

A Facebook page titled ‘US Department of Peace’, seems to have been created by peace lovers to promote the concept of peaceful coexistence. The introduction says, “Official page for a national movement advocating for peacebuilding policies and for the prevention of violence to be held as a national priority.”

PeaceAlliance.org – their website seeks to promote peace and amity. But until such time as our daily diet of violence and hatred gets replaced by a healthy diet of love and pacifism, a peaceful world will remain a chimera.

In the wake of devastating floods in Punjab, where countless families grapple with loss, uncertainty, and hardship, the Sikh spirit once again turns to its timeless source of resilience.

Even amid waters of despair, the principle of Chardi Kala – ever-rising spirit – reminds us that hope, strength, and faith can never be drowned.

This uniquely Sikh ideal doesn’t merely urge optimism; it embodies a profound spiritual resilience, grounded in divine trust, contentment, and service.

The secret to happiness is Santokh, contentment. Unlike desire, which multiplies endlessly, contentment draws a full stop after basic needs are met.

In one telling incident, a man complained to a friend about a modest salary raise. The friend asked, “Back in college, did you ever imagine earning this much?”




The man admitted he hadn’t. “Then your discontent isn’t about your salary; it’s about someone earning more in comparison to you.” Such reflections illustrate how comparison, not reality, robs us of happiness.

True joy stems from an inner alignment with hukam , Divine will, cultivated through naam simran , humility, remembrance, and gratitude.
Guru Granth Sahib repeatedly reminds us that real happiness cannot be found in fleeting pleasures but is rooted in an inward journey.

Bhagat Namdev offers a metaphor: just as a boy flying a kite talks and laughs with friends but remains focused on the string, a spiritually aware person engages with the world but stays anchored in the Divine. This balance – being in the world but not of it – is the essence of Chardi Kala.

Guru Nanak Dev says, “Chintat hee deesæ sabh koe. Cheeteh ek tahee sukh hoe (SGGS P932)” – everyone has worries and cares. He alone finds peace who thinks of one Lord.

Guru Nanak Dev, in opening verses of Japji Sahib, addresses the human quest for truth: Hukam rajaaee chalnaa Naanak likhiaa naal (SGGS P1) – O Nanak! It is written that you shall obey hukam of His command and walk in the way of His will.

“How can one become truthful? By walking in hukam.” To accept hukam is to accept that not everything goes according to our individual will, but everything unfolds according to a higher plan.

Yet, accepting hukam is not always easy. The haumai , human ego, rebels, desiring control. It asks, ‘Why me?’ The root of suffering often lies in the gap between our expectations and reality. Chardi Kala bridges this gap – not by eliminating pain, but by transforming our relationship with it.

Bhai Vir Singh compares naam simran to cleaning a mirror: just as a dusty mirror cannot reflect light, a distracted mind cannot perceive peace. Through consistent remembrance, the grime of ego and desire is wiped away, revealing a radiant Self. Path of seva frees one from shackles of ego.

To dwell in Chardi Kala is not to suppress sorrow, but to surpass it with spiritual strength. It is spiritual optimism that sings even in sorrow, that perseveres in faith even when circumstances betray it.

A Sikh Ardaas concludes: “Nanak Naam Chardi Kala, tere bhane Sarbat da bhala” – may the spirit always rise, and may all humanity prosper in Your will.

Bhai Vir Singh compares naam simran to cleaning a mirror: just as a dusty mirror cannot reflect light, a distracted mind cannot perceive peace. Through consistent remembrance, the grime of ego and desire is wiped away, revealing a radiant Self. Path of seva frees one from shackles of ego.

To dwell in Chardi Kala is not to suppress sorrow, but to surpass it with spiritual strength. It is spiritual optimism that sings even in sorrow, that perseveres in faith even when circumstances betray it.

A Sikh Ardaas concludes: “Nanak Naam Chardi Kala, tere bhane Sarbat da bhala” – may the spirit always rise, and may all humanity prosper in Your will.

Sept 10 is observed as World Suicide Prevention Day. According to govt of India figures (National Crime Records Bureau), around 13,000 students (7.6% of the total suicides in India) committed suicide in 2022.

It is imperative to examine pressures on young minds that force them to commit suicide. And how have we come to this sorry situation where the students lose their desire to live? The young and formative minds are more prone to come under pressure. At a young age, the brain is powerful and unhampered by memory knots. This makes it sensitive, and such sensitive minds (which are also highly intelligent) easily buckle under pressures.

From early childhood, children are conditioned to excel in exams and achieve good grades. Consequently, we have become an exam-passing society, which not only puts tremendous pressure on young minds but also suppresses their curiosity and inventiveness. Society must introspect on why we stress so much on grades. Most children are afraid of failing exams. The pressure to perform creates fear. Such strong fears created at a young age make the mind highly strung, and any trigger can break it.

Also, during young age, sexual hormones rage in the body. Those energies need to be channelled. If left unattended, they create havoc in the brain and lead to loneliness. This is not a green signal for promiscuous behaviour but a warning to adults to recognise signs and help in their sublimation.




If we can create conditions that allow us to sublimate these strong desires into something positive, for example, by having children engage in challenging physical and creative work and presenting them with interesting tasks, then loneliness may be reduced.
One way to help children is to instil in them a desire and interest in reading. If children read a lot, it will be good for their mind and their development.

Reading helps create an internal mental movie, which uses a major portion of the brain. This expands the mind’s horizon by allowing one to think, assimilate, and reflect on new ideas. This is far better than the information onslaught from social media and mobile phones. The physical interaction that children lack increases loneliness. In older days, there was no way to avoid physical contact; it helped in overcoming loneliness and resolving mental issues.

So, how can all of us help in reducing suicide among students?

By creating curiosity among children and making them aware that there are other things in life than only passing exams – making them aware that there are other avenues of employment besides engineering and medicine. Parents need to spend more time with their children.
By creating an interesting environment in school that children become interested and curious about issues surrounding them. Once their bright formative minds are seized of the idea, then they will vigorously pursue it. In its absence, they revert to social media and idle chit-chat.
By enabling development of empathy and compassion in them through counselling services or spiritual practices. Being empathetic to others and compassionate towards other people’s suffering to a greater degree reduces the sense of aloofness and helps in developing resilience.

The first chapter of the Gita is named Arjun Vishaad Yog , which means yog of Arjun’s anguish – Arjun’s journey through the spiritual discipline of anguish in order to be united with his self-nature. How can this be so? What is the connection between anguish and yog? And in what sense has the word ‘yog’ been used in the Gita?

The yog of anguish! There are many meanings of yog. There are even meanings that are exactly the opposite of our commonly held understanding of yog.

So, it is right to ask this question: How can anguish be yog? Bliss can be yog, but how can anguish be yog? But anguish can be yog precisely because it is only an inverted form of bliss; it is bliss standing on its head. You are still a man whether you are standing on your feet or on your head. Even what we call the opposite of our self-nature is just our self-nature standing on its head. Whatever we call insanity – even though it is a perversion of our self-nature – is still a part of our self-nature.




Gold that is mixed with dust is called impure gold. We may ask why we call it ‘gold’ when it is impure – but it must be called gold; even with these impurities it remains gold. It has to be called gold because the impure element in it can be burnt away and the gold that was mixed with the dust can again become pure.

No one has ever come upon such a state of anguish that he cannot return to his true self-nature. Even in the deepest state of anguish the path leading back to one’s true self-nature remains intact. It is for the remembrance of this path that yog is being mentioned – and this anguish is happening for that very reason.

Why is anguish there in the first place? A rock never feels anguish. It never feels anguish because it can never feel bliss either. This is the reason why anguish is felt. In a deep sense it is because of a memory of bliss. It is a remembrance of the fact – somewhere deep within our consciousness, the understanding is there – that our consciousness cannot be what it actually can be, is not able to attain what it actually can attain; that what is possible is not actually happening. This is the reason why anguish occurs.

Hence, the greater genius a person is, the deeper into anguish he will go… For someone who knows what he can become, for someone who knows that bliss is possible, the darkness of anguish will become more pronounced; he will feel anguish more intensely. One who knows about the morning will find the darkness of night to be very dark. But for one who has no idea about the morning, even night may appear to be the dawn – and he may find the night quite acceptable.
Even the state of Arjun’s anguish is being called ‘yog’ here, because an awareness of anguish only becomes possible when it is contrasted with our self-nature. Otherwise, it cannot be seen.

Abridged from Inner War and Peace/OSHO Times International/www.osho.com

The practice of forgiveness is not an exclusive domain of Jainism; anyone can observe Kshamavani Parv, Day of Forgiveness. At the global level, resolving border disputes, conflicts, and disagreements through mutual understanding and goodwill can establish peace worldwide.

A ceasefire can be achieved in the ongoing tensions between countries such as Russia and Ukraine, China and Taiwan, Israel and Palestine, and India and Pakistan.

The recent tariff war on the economic front can also be resolved, paving the way for peace in the world. Kshamavani Parv can offer a lesson in conflict resolution.

Ultimate objectives of all religions are Self-realisation, human welfare, and well-being of all. These objectives can only be achieved when we act in accordance with religious principles. However, we are social beings. Everyone has different kinds of work, incomes, thoughts, and so on.




These differences often lead to disagreements and conflicts, causing mental unrest and anger, and sometimes result in chaotic situations that can be difficult to resolve.

This is a natural part of human life. But to overcome adverse situations, we have the wonderful weapon of forgiveness. Both asking for forgiveness and forgiving are powerful.

Those who make mistakes have the option of asking for forgiveness. A deliberate mistake stems from ego, and that is not forgivable. However, one can always ask for forgiveness for unintentional mistakes, and wise people employ this method.

As one sows, so shall one reap. Therefore, emphasis is placed on purifying actions for a happy life. Observing Das Lakshan Dharm in Jainism is part of this.

These ten virtues are the natural qualities of the soul. During Das Lakshan festival, followers of Jainism purify their karm by practising them.

The festival begins with virtue of forgiveness and culminates on the first day of the dark fortnight of Ashwin with a grand, harmonious celebration of forgiveness in all Jain temples after worship and ritualistic ablution of Jina.

On this day, everyone, without any hesitation, sincerely and simply asks for forgiveness from each other, both individually and collectively, for any unintentional mistakes.

Intentionally or unintentionally, our actions often hurt others. Kshamavani Parv offers us an opportunity, at least once a year, to reflect on this and to release any feelings of resentment from our hearts.

Through the practice of repentance, pratikraman, we seek forgiveness from all beings for our daily shortcomings and offer forgiveness to all. Repenting for our mistakes and resolving not to repeat them helps us move forward on spiritual path.

Forgiveness is the true measure of a person’s strength. Forgiving is an adornment of the brave; cowards retaliate. When we ask for forgiveness, we are doing ourselves a favour.

Our soul feels lighter, and positive feelings arise in the other person’s heart, thus ending mutual animosity. “Mitti ma savve bhuyesu, vair majan na kena vi,” this Prakrit proverb means: Let there be friendliness among all beings; let no one harbour ill will towards another. Mahavir says, “Kodha piye yapana sai” – anger destroys affection.

The only way to overcome anger is through forgiveness.

Speaking Tree Speaking Tree

Shashank R Joshi and Shambo Samrat Samajdar

During Onam, homes are decorated with pookalam flower carpets, families gather over feasts, and joy fills the air. Yet beyond the outward celebration lies a spiritual story that continues to echo through centuries – the story of Mahabali and the Vamana avatar of Vishnu.

This is not just a tale of gods and kings. It is a reminder for every seeker who wonders why suffering persists, why fortune fades, and why the divine often seems silent in the face of human sorrow. Mahabali, the great Asur king, was known for his generosity, justice, and devotion. His reign was so prosperous that it rivalled heaven. Yet, hidden beneath that grandeur was the subtle seed of pride.



The devas, feeling threatened, turned to Vishnu for balance. Vishnu visited not in splendour, but as Vaman, a humble brahmachari dwarf. With a gentle request, He asked the mighty king for just three paces of land. Amused by the simplicity, Bali agreed. But in an instant, the dwarf grew into Trivikrama, the cosmic form of Vishnu. With one stride He spanned the heavens, with the second He covered the earth. For the third, Bali offered his own head.

At that moment, the proud king became the humble devotee. By surrendering all, Bali found something eternal –union with the Lord.
Every human heart carries the same question Bali faced: Why do we suffer even when we live righteously? Why does the divine not always intervene to shield us from loss? We pray, chant, surrender, and still pain pierces our lives – through illness, separation, or the cruel march of time. At such moments, faith wavers. We feel abandoned, as though truth drowns in an ocean of falsehood, and injustice dances in victory.

Yet God’s silence is not absence. His grace often works through what seems like loss, shaping us for something higher. When Vishnu placed His foot on Bali’s head, it was not an act of punishment but of liberation. The king lost his throne yet gained what no wealth can buy –freedom from ego and closeness to the Divine. This is the hidden message of Onam: suffering is not meaningless; it is the chiselling of the soul. Loss may be the opening of a greater gift. In surrender, man becomes more than man – he becomes one with Narayan.

The tale also reminds us that fortune is never fixed. Even Lakshmi, goddess of wealth, is depicted as moving from place to place, sometimes even in disguise as a beggar. Worldly prosperity is transient, but divine grace is constant. What appears to be a decline may be a doorway to inner abundance.

Onam is not only about the harvest of fields but also about the harvest of the heart. It teaches us: Ego builds empires, but surrender enables union till eternity; suffering is not abandonment, but an invitation to union; the Lord often arrives quietly – in humble forms, in moments of loss, in whispers of the heart.

When we let go of bargaining with the Divine and learn to offer our lives without expectation, His presence transforms pain into prayer. Onam’s true celebration is not in feasts or flowers, but in the inner step of surrender. The same step Bali took when he bowed his head, the step we are invited to take – away from ego, into grace. In that step, boundaries of sorrow dissolve.

September 5 is commemorated as Teachers’ Day. S Radhakrishnan wasn’t just a teacher, philosopher and educationist. He was a moralist who believed that true education and proper knowledge create morally upright humans.

Like Socrates, Radhakrishnan believed that education is the kindling of a flame, not the filling of a vessel. Education is not just about acquiring knowledge and facts but rather igniting a passion for inquiry and critical thinking.

It emphasises the importance of curiosity, open-mindedness, and the exploration of ideas.

Education is not a passive process of filling a vessel, but an active journey of discovery where the flame of knowledge is sparked and nurtured. True education should inspire individuals to think, question societal norms, and seek wisdom.

The purpose of learning goes beyond mere accumulation; it encourages students to become lifelong learners and thinkers.




Radhakrishnan believed that true virtue and morality could only be achieved through the attainment of knowledge and understanding.

He argued that ignorance was the root cause of all wrongdoing and misdeeds, as it prevented individuals from recognising what was truly good and just. He believed that by pursuing knowledge and questioning one’s own beliefs, individuals could elevate themselves towards a higher state of consciousness and live a more virtuous life.

Radhakrishnan’s teachings serve as a timeless reminder that wisdom and understanding are the guiding lights in distinguishing right from wrong, and that ignorance is the breeding ground for all forms of evil and injustice.

He believed that ignorance is the root and stem of all evil. People do not intentionally commit evil acts but do so out of a lack of knowledge and understanding. It is only through true knowledge and awareness that individuals can discern right from wrong and act virtuously.

Ignorance prevents individuals from recognising the consequences of their actions and perpetuates a cycle of wrongdoing. Radhakrishnan said, “God lives, feels and suffers in every one of us, and in course of time, His attributes, knowledge, beauty and love will be revealed in each of us.”

He was a practical thinker and educationist who was of the view that books are the means by which we build bridges between cultures. Radhakrishnan said, “My ambition is not only to chronicle but to interpret and reveal the movement of the mind and unfold the sources of India in the profound plane of human nature.”

Reading and implementing should be the sole (and also soul) objective of a seeker. Education and knowledge that get you a decent job and also hone your sensibilities making you a humanist must be the purpose of modern education.

He wasn’t an armchair philosopher; Radhakrishnan was a pragmatic philosopher who combined education with philosophy and moral values and asserted that intelligence plus character must be the goal of true education.

He said, “The main function of a university is not to grant degrees and diplomas, but to develop the university spirit and advance learning. The former is impossible without corporate life, the latter without honours and postgraduate.”

His moral approach to education made him a universally venerable teacher who disliked being called a professor.

The age of retirement at the workplace is being extended to beyond 58 and 60, to 65 and 70 in some countries or sectors, as the case may be. Lifespans are increasing with better quality of life, and medical advancements.

Those who retire in their late fifties and early sixties, with healthy body and mind, are finding themselves at aloose end. What do they do with the wealth of experience and knowledge they have? Not everyone can afford to work gratis; the cost of living keeps rising and the interest earned on savings gets diminished over time.

Jancee Dunn, writing in the New York Times, points out that besides lifespan and health span, there is another ‘span’ that we need to take cognisance of, and that is joy span. If you live a long life but do not enjoy it, what is the point, asks Kerry Burnight, former professor of geriatric medicine and gerontology at the University of California, who promotes the concept of joy span.

Health problems and other challenges in your senior years do not have to equal suffering. “How we step up to those challenges can be the difference between thriving and suffering,” she says. And that’s what joy span is all about.




Can seniors keep their spirits up in the twilight of their lives, even if they face challenges and despite experiencing some ill health? It all depends on whether you can find creative ways to deal with issues.

Burnight points out that keeping your curiosity alive, to want to explore new things, are all ways to be open to new learnings. It is never too late to learn new skills like perhaps playing a musical instrument, learning a new language, story-telling or drawing and painting.

Another way to boost your spirit is to make a list of things that you think get better as you age. You could create affirmations that reinforce why you feel things are getting better and not necessarily worse. So what if you find it tiring to read small print or do not have the energy to plough through a book? You can always listen to the audio version.

Howsoever old you are, each one has something they can offer to or give to others – your wisdom from life experiences, your expertise in your area of interest, your infinite fund of funny anecdotes, your patience and interest in lending your ear to listen to someone’s story and so on. This way you are not isolated, you will enjoy an active social life and feel useful, too.

Importantly, avoid the company of killjoys. Stay away from those who start their sentence with: “But you are now too old to….” Or, “You may die any moment, so why start a new thing now…” or “Do you realise that when you were hospitalised, you almost died? Where are your documents, your keys, your passwords…”

If you can, stay close to happy people who have no agendas; watch films that make you laugh or thrillers that you enjoy; listen to uplifting music, whether classical, rock and roll or K-pop if you will… You will soon see yourself feeling joy, and this will add to your joy span.

Finding joy in your later years is not something unachievable. Go for it!

The axis of our existence is whoppingly long: 149,597,870,700 meters, or 149,597,871 km. It has its roots in Earth and canopies onto the Sun’s surface. Energy flux occurs on the solar surface, and our biomolecules are energised. That is the essence of our existence.

However, our energy, spiritual, connects with the Sun is not direct; the energy in light produced by the Sun is infused into us via a phenomenon called photosynthesis. Should there be no photosynthesis by chlorophyll-containing plants, there is no question of our existence.

This is true not only about us, the human beings. This is true of most of the biosphere. Almost all terrestrial life and most oceanic life exist, prevail, and are sustained through photosynthesis. Planet Earth is the living planet – the only one we know – thanks to the phenomenon of photosynthesis. Other planets in the cosmos are also bathed in light, but they do not support life because they lack the phenomenon of photosynthesis.




This phenomenon prevails on Earth, weaving life in diverse forms through various biomes, ecosystems, and species, making the planet resonate with life.

Life is organic. The rest of the cosmos, as we know it, is inorganic. It is only through photosynthesis that inorganic compounds are transformed into organic compounds. About 90% of Earth’s biomass is produced through photosynthesis.

Only green plants, algae and some chlorophyll-containing microorganisms, like cyanobacteria and microalgae, are empowered to transform sunlight into life. It is thanks to photosynthesis that our Earth is an oasis in the cosmos, a place we call ‘Blue Beauty’.

Forests on Earth generate 40-60% of terrestrial precipitation through transpiration. Fixing atmospheric carbon into life, photosynthesis strikes a balance in the atmosphere and regulates Earth’s climate system.

Our contemporary world is cursed by gradual warming, resulting in the breakdown of its climate cycle.

In times of unprecedented challenge, photosynthesis remains the last hope to reduce and halt global warming processes and heal the planet, which is being tormented by life-annihilating climate change. Our self-healing is impossible without the simultaneous healing of our planet. Photosynthesis assures the healing of both.

Photosynthesising organisms establish a bridge between inorganic cosmos and organic biosphere and keep distilling life out of light, choosing only two matters from the Earth: carbon dioxide and water. Photosynthesis is a cosmic phenomenon.

Wherever photosynthesis prevails, life must inevitably prevail. It is the first and foremost phenomenon to fertilise the universe with life. Photosynthesis, in essence, is a spiritual phenomenon through which light transcends into the spirit of life.

If we wish to colonise an extraterrestrial planet, that would be possible by creating environmental conditions conducive to photosynthesis.

Photosynthesis is the foundation of life on Earth. It also serves as the basis of our food and nutrition security. All our vegetarian foods are produced through the process of photosynthesis. The greater the photosynthetic efficiency of our agricultural crops, the stronger the basis of our food and nutrition security.

To effectively manage and monitor our holistic progress, we need to establish ecological banks, such as ‘Photosynthetic Reserve Banks’. Such developments, emanating from policies guided by the core laws of nature, are not only necessary but also imperative for ushering in a healthy, vibrant, promising, sustainable, and happy future.

Bani’s hymns are spiritually, socially, culturally and poetically rich; they wean seekers away from hatred, bigotry, fanaticism and irrational impulses. Those who are devoted to Bani automatically learn about Self-realisation, introspection, selfdiscipline, simplicity and learn to steer their own paths. They attain spiritual bliss and solace through recitation of God’s name, without ignoring their household duties, or losing their earthly touch. This meditation is the ultimate stressbuster.
Gurbani advocates jivanmukt way of life that means attaining salvation while alive. It also advocates renouncing one’s pride, attachment and greed, and doing good for humanity through seva.

The messaging is simple. We can help ourselves and that will enable us to create a better world. The wisdom is here. We just have to ensure we don’t miss it.

Bani Guru, Guru hai Bani…’ Comprising the text of Guru Granth Sahib, ‘Gurbani’ or ‘Baani’ is like a vast, deep ocean of knowledge and divinity. It teaches us how to follow the true path and live it on a higher plain.

Significantly, because of what it teaches, Gurbani is also a great teacher, healer and stressbuster.

Why do these religious scriptures profoundly calm and heal us? Certain thought and behaviour patterns have a profound effect on our mental and physical health. A positive attitude, a giving nature and kindness are considered effective health tools.

Spiritually rich Gurbani possesses all these attributes. Besides its universal message and profound appeal, it promotes general welfare through love and selfless devotional service to humanity. It espouses peace, amity, friendship, simplicity and forgiveness – virtues that transport us into a positive frame of mind and treat and heal us.

‘Awal Allaha noor upaya kudrat ke sabh bande,’ – regardless of our caste and creed, we are all children of God. Gurbani advocates coexistence, the best way to engender peace and harmony, so badly needed today. It makes us feel calm and fulfilled.




It preaches benevolence and kindness, as practised by Sikh gurus in exemplary fashion. The gurus embodied kindness throughout their lives, the level of their sacrifice is unparalleled.

The sermon is clear. Accept God’s will. He is the creator, provider, friend, philosopher, guide and healer. Not only does He heal us, but He also teaches us to self-heal. ‘Pavan guru paani pita, mata dharat mahat balihari kudrat vasaiya,’ – Gurbani tells us that natural elements are akin to our parents. Today, the world has seen havoc unleashed through global warming and climate change.

Gurbani teaches us to avoid addictions. Addictions overpower us, then imprison us and eventually ruin our lives. Greed is a vice that engenders evil thoughts and actions. Avoiding these has a calming effect on us.




Guru Nanak Dev had strongly advocated gender equality. It also addresses family concerns and encourages us to develop altruism. Family concerns and problems create great stress. Addressing these helps us enormously.

Bani’s hymns are spiritually, socially, culturally and poetically rich; they wean seekers away from hatred, bigotry, fanaticism and irrational impulses. Those who are devoted to Bani automatically learn about Self-realisation, introspection, selfdiscipline, simplicity and learn to steer their own paths. They attain spiritual bliss and solace through recitation of God’s name, without ignoring their household duties, or losing their earthly touch. This meditation is the ultimate stressbuster.
Gurbani advocates jivanmukt way of life that means attaining salvation while alive. It also advocates renouncing one’s pride, attachment and greed, and doing good for humanity through seva.

The messaging is simple. We can help ourselves and that will enable us to create a better world. The wisdom is here. We just have to ensure we don’t miss it.

By Gurudev Sri Sri Ravi Shankar

We have all heard the beautiful story from the Puranas about Ganesh. The story goes that Shiv returned home to meet his wife, Parvati. He found a boy standing outside, blocking his path to meet Parvati, who was taking a bath. Angered, Shiv chopped off the boy’s head. Parvati came out to see her son, born from the impurities of her own body, lying lifeless. She became miserable and pleaded with Shiv to bring his son back. To pacify her, Shiv sent to look for the head of a person sleeping with the head towards the north. They could not find anyone but an elephant with the head in that position. Its head was placed on the little boy. This is the story of Ganesh.

Now, for someone listening to this story for the very first time, it can seem absurd and raise many questions: Shiv, who is all-knowing, all-pervasive, and all-powerful, who can see through time, how could he be so angry and rude? Secondly, did he not even know that the boy was his son? Third, even if so, the boy just stopped him for a while because Parvati was taking a shower. Why did Shiv become so impatient? If this story is taken literally, Shiv comes across as an angry, absurd, violent, and illogical figure.




The essential meaning of this story symbolises something stupendous. Shiv represents transcendental consciousness. Shiv is that Self, consciousness, which is ever peaceful, all-pervading, summum bonum of all creation – unmanifest energy. Parvati represents Prakriti, manifest energy. Her body’s mala, dirt, represents distortions and ignorance that accumulate in nature, covering the soul like mud mixing with pure water. When Parvati infused these impurities with life, she created Ganesh – the jiva-atma, living soul, born from Nature.

Prakriti, nature, and vikriti, distortion of energy, are part of the same whole. Nature has decay as part of it. Distortion guards creation, just like compost supports a tree’s growth. Death supports life. So many cells in your body are dying every day. Only then does it give space to new cells to be born.

It’s called Lesha Avidya, a little distortion of energy, or relative energy is essential. When you go into the depths of the oneness of the universal spirit, you are there as one. But when you have to come out of it to the world, to even express that ‘i had a great meditation,’ there has to be somebody who comes out of it. From the absolute realm, you have to come to the relative realm. The seen world and the unseen world both go together. The unseen world glorifies the seen, and the seen world glorifies the unseen – that is Shiv and Shakti.

Parvati bathing symbolises Nature withdrawing into its purity, ready to unite with consciousness. Shiv represents Purush – pure, non-dual consciousness where no impurity can remain.

‘Shiv beheading the boy’ symbolises removal of all impurities. The head indicates intellect, which needs to be transformed to find wisdom. The elephant has the largest head and stands for vast wisdom. It unites jnanendriyas, organs of perception, and karmendriyas, organs of action, in one, its trunk, which can both perceive and act. It constantly moves its ears, teaching harmony between what is heard and what is seen, as integrated knowledge.

Placing the elephant’s head signifies establishing complete wisdom; it becomes capable of removing obstacles and bestowing buddhi, intellect and siddhi, accomplishment. That is the Ganapati principle.

By the XIV Dalai Lama

We live in a time of profound global challenges – climate change, inequality, conflict, and deepening isolation. These problems know no borders. They affect us all. And so, they call for something greater than individual or national interest. They call for a sense of universal responsibility.

At its core, this responsibility arises from recognising our deep interdependence. In the past, we lived in relative separation – villages, nations, and religions evolved independently. Today, information, goods, people, and ideas move freely, revealing how interconnected we truly are. The well-being of one is linked to the well-being of all.

We can no longer believe that our actions are contained within personal or national boundaries. When forests disappear in one country, the air suffers everywhere. When war breaks out in one region, it displaces people and shakes the peace of others far away. The pain of one becomes the burden of many.

This is why we must move beyond narrow self-interest. Universal responsibility asks us to shift from ‘me’ to ‘we’ – to recognise that compassion for others is not a luxury, but a necessity.

This shift begins not with great acts, but with awareness. When we realise that others’ happiness is linked to our own, compassion arises naturally. From this, action flows: to ease suffering, promote justice, and care for the Earth that sustains us.

Some may ask, ‘But what can one person do?’ The answer is: a great deal. History is shaped by individuals who chose not to be indifferent. A single act of kindness, born of courage and sincerity, can ripple outward. A warm heart can be quietly powerful.
Education is key – but it must educate both heart and mind.

Knowledge alone is not enough. Without ethical grounding, intelligence can be used to divide, deceive, or destroy. This is why I often speak of secular ethics – basic human values such as compassion, honesty, patience, and self-discipline. These are not tied to any one faith. They are universal.

Whether one believes in God or not, these values remain the foundation of a good life. I have met deeply ethical people of many religions, and also those of none. Goodness is not exclusive to believers. Responsibility belongs to all.

This includes responsibility to the environment. The Earth is our only home. We cannot treat its resources as endless. We must develop ecological awareness – not only for ourselves, but for future generations. A clean river, a green forest, a clear sky – these are gifts we owe to our children.

We also carry responsibility for peace. In the modern world, violence is an outdated response to conflict. It causes immense suffering, and rarely solves the problems it claims to address. Peace cannot come from weapons or domination. It must be built through understanding, dialogue, and respect for human rights.

Is universal responsibility realistic? I believe it is not only realistic – it is essential. Without it, division will grow, conflict will spread, and the environment will collapse. Our survival depends on cooperation.
And it begins with each of us. We all have daily chances to live this responsibility – by being kind, by acting honestly, by showing care. Parents, teachers, leaders – all can guide by example.

When we feel love for others, we find peace in ourselves. When we act from that love, we heal the world. An ocean is filled drop by drop. Let us each be one drop. Together, we can create a sea of kindness strong enough to heal even the deepest wounds. Let us not wait. Let’s begin.

As told to Rajiv Mehrotra

(By Partha Sinha)

There is a thin line that separates confidence from arrogance. Confidence is porous, open to air and light. Arrogance calcifies into a shell. Confidence grows with learning, while arrogance hardens into certainty. The difference is not always visible, but it becomes clear the moment a question enters the room.




Questions are the natural solvent of pride. They loosen what has become stiff. They remind us that no matter how high the pedestal, gravity still applies. When you are asked a question, you are being invited to revisit your own truth. That invitation can be unsettling. People in authority often reject it, not because the question is flawed, but because it threatens the fragile armour they mistake for strength.

I have seen this often in boardrooms, classrooms, even in living rooms. The most dangerous sentence in any of these places is, “That is a silly question.” It is not the question that is silly. It is the refusal to acknowledge that another perspective exists. Confidence says, “Let us consider.” Arrogance says, “Do not bother me.”

Children know better. Their days are filled with why, how, when, what if. Their questions are not rhetorical devices but lifelines. Each one is an act of humility, a confession that the world is too vast to be managed alone. That is why their questions disarm us. They reveal the pretence of adulthood. When a child asks, “Why is the sky blue?” the right answer is not a lecture in physics. It is wonder.

Our spiritual traditions also honour this truth. Socrates never tired of asking questions, because he believed wisdom was not a well to be filled but a river to be entered again and again. In Zen practice, the koan is not meant to be answered. It is meant to unsettle the self that insists on neat solutions. The Bhagwad Gita begins with a question from Arjun, paralysed by doubt, and it is only through his asking that wisdom flows.

Yet in modern life we prize answers more than questions. The quick reply, instant solution, clever sound bite. Answers inflate the ego, while questions deflate it just enough for humility to enter. To sit quietly with a question, is to let the self breathe.

Think of the last time someone asked you a real question. Not a trap, not a test, but a true inquiry. For a moment you slowed down. You listened more deeply. You put aside the armour of performance. That moment itself was grace.

Questions and silence are siblings. Both clear the noise. Both remind us that the ego is not a fortress but scaffolding, temporary and fragile, built to be taken down so that we may rebuild again.
So when a question unsettles you, do not swat it away. Hold it gently, the way you hold a seashell to your ear. Listen for the ocean inside it. For in every question lies a hand tugging softly at your sleeve. Take that hand. It does not shrink you. It only reminds you that to be human is not to defend certainty, but to remain curious, open and alive.

Because in the end, it is not answers that keep us alive. It is the courage to keep asking

(By Partha Sinha)

There is a thin line that separates confidence from arrogance. Confidence is porous, open to air and light. Arrogance calcifies into a shell. Confidence grows with learning, while arrogance hardens into certainty. The difference is not always visible, but it becomes clear the moment a question enters the room.

Questions are the natural solvent of pride. They loosen what has become stiff. They remind us that no matter how high the pedestal, gravity still applies. When you are asked a question, you are being invited to revisit your own truth. That invitation can be unsettling. People in authority often reject it, not because the question is flawed, but because it threatens the fragile armour they mistake for strength.

I have seen this often in boardrooms, classrooms, even in living rooms. The most dangerous sentence in any of these places is, “That is a silly question.” It is not the question that is silly. It is the refusal to acknowledge that another perspective exists. Confidence says, “Let us consider.” Arrogance says, “Do not bother me.”

Children know better. Their days are filled with why, how, when, what if. Their questions are not rhetorical devices but lifelines. Each one is an act of humility, a confession that the world is too vast to be managed alone. That is why their questions disarm us. They reveal the pretence of adulthood. When a child asks, “Why is the sky blue?” the right answer is not a lecture in physics. It is wonder.

Our spiritual traditions also honour this truth. Socrates never tired of asking questions, because he believed wisdom was not a well to be filled but a river to be entered again and again. In Zen practice, the koan is not meant to be answered. It is meant to unsettle the self that insists on neat solutions. The Bhagwad Gita begins with a question from Arjun, paralysed by doubt, and it is only through his asking that wisdom flows.

Yet in modern life we prize answers more than questions. The quick reply, instant solution, clever sound bite. Answers inflate the ego, while questions deflate it just enough for humility to enter. To sit quietly with a question, is to let the self breathe.

Think of the last time someone asked you a real question. Not a trap, not a test, but a true inquiry. For a moment you slowed down. You listened more deeply. You put aside the armour of performance. That moment itself was grace.

Questions and silence are siblings. Both clear the noise. Both remind us that the ego is not a fortress but scaffolding, temporary and fragile, built to be taken down so that we may rebuild again.
So when a question unsettles you, do not swat it away. Hold it gently, the way you hold a seashell to your ear. Listen for the ocean inside it. For in every question lies a hand tugging softly at your sleeve. Take that hand. It does not shrink you. It only reminds you that to be human is not to defend certainty, but to remain curious, open and alive.

Because in the end, it is not answers that keep us alive. It is the courage to keep asking.

(By Partha Sinha)

There is a thin line that separates confidence from arrogance. Confidence is porous, open to air and light. Arrogance calcifies into a shell. Confidence grows with learning, while arrogance hardens into certainty. The difference is not always visible, but it becomes clear the moment a question enters the room.

Questions are the natural solvent of pride. They loosen what has become stiff. They remind us that no matter how high the pedestal, gravity still applies. When you are asked a question, you are being invited to revisit your own truth. That invitation can be unsettling. People in authority often reject it, not because the question is flawed, but because it threatens the fragile armour they mistake for strength.

I have seen this often in boardrooms, classrooms, even in living rooms. The most dangerous sentence in any of these places is, “That is a silly question.” It is not the question that is silly. It is the refusal to acknowledge that another perspective exists. Confidence says, “Let us consider.” Arrogance says, “Do not bother me.”

Children know better. Their days are filled with why, how, when, what if. Their questions are not rhetorical devices but lifelines. Each one is an act of humility, a confession that the world is too vast to be managed alone. That is why their questions disarm us. They reveal the pretence of adulthood. When a child asks, “Why is the sky blue?” the right answer is not a lecture in physics. It is wonder.

Our spiritual traditions also honour this truth. Socrates never tired of asking questions, because he believed wisdom was not a well to be filled but a river to be entered again and again. In Zen practice, the koan is not meant to be answered. It is meant to unsettle the self that insists on neat solutions. The Bhagwad Gita begins with a question from Arjun, paralysed by doubt, and it is only through his asking that wisdom flows.

Yet in modern life we prize answers more than questions. The quick reply, instant solution, clever sound bite. Answers inflate the ego, while questions deflate it just enough for humility to enter. To sit quietly with a question, is to let the self breathe.

Think of the last time someone asked you a real question. Not a trap, not a test, but a true inquiry. For a moment you slowed down. You listened more deeply. You put aside the armour of performance. That moment itself was grace.

Questions and silence are siblings. Both clear the noise. Both remind us that the ego is not a fortress but scaffolding, temporary and fragile, built to be taken down so that we may rebuild again.
So when a question unsettles you, do not swat it away. Hold it gently, the way you hold a seashell to your ear. Listen for the ocean inside it. For in every question lies a hand tugging softly at your sleeve. Take that hand. It does not shrink you. It only reminds you that to be human is not to defend certainty, but to remain curious, open and alive.

Because in the end, it is not answers that keep us alive. It is the courage to keep asking.

By Ullhas Pagey

In the stillness of early morning, there is a sacred space when timeless wisdom is revealed through recital of Ganapati Atharva Shirsha , an ancient text dedicated to Ganesh, symbol of wisdom, remover of obstacles, and guardian of beginnings.

Ganesh is described not as a distant god, but as the fundamental energy rooted within the human body and consciousness. This energy resides at the base of spine, the seat of potential and source of life’s momentum. Thus, the hymn invites us to turn inward, to locate the Divine not in temples or rituals, but in the subtle presence within the Self. The journey is not towards a god, but towards awakening.

As verses unfold, a striking declaration emerges: Ganesh is not one god among many but the essence of all gods, all energies and all forms. He is creation, preservation, and dissolution: all aspects of life rolled into one unifying force. Through this lens, we begin to understand that names and identities are mere masks. The Divine is not many; it is one, appearing in countless guises. Ganesh is not just a character from Indic mythology, but a symbol of unity that underlines all diversity.




This leads to another insight that everything in the universe is interconnected. There are no separate parts, only expressions of a whole. The remover of obstacles is not someone who clears life’s path, but the real obstacles are within. Ganesh represents clarity that dissolves these internal blocks. By invoking this clarity, we become free, not because the world changes, but because our perception changes.

Another powerful element in the text is its focus on wisdom, not information or knowledge, but an insight: Asking not for wealth or favours, but for the illumination that helps us understand what truly matters.

Through the hymn, we learn that spiritual growth is less about accumulation and more about refinement. The final message the text offers is about fearlessness. It promises that one who truly understands this wisdom will live without fear, sorrow, or confusion.

This does not mean a life free from hardship, but a life rooted in something deeper than circumstances. When we realise that the Divine lives within us, then fear naturally dissolves. We no longer seek approval, avoid discomfort or manipulate to control circumstances. We begin to flow with life, trusting its intelligence.

Ganapati Atharva Shirsha is not just a devotional hymn; it is a spiritual map. It tells us that the Divine is within, that clarity is true power. It is a call not just to worship, but to recognise that god we seek is the presence already beating in our hearts and in the quiet that follows this realisation, there comes a peace not born of belief, but of recognition that we are not separate from the whole.

By Ezekiel Isaac Malekar

What is the purpose of religion? Is it to elevate our souls and to bring us as close as possible to God? The true purpose of religion is to bring out the potentialities of everyone to create a new Garden of Eden. To this, we must maintain a high level of spirituality otherwise we will stoop to illicit means to obtain our goals.

Acts of charity, loving kindness and righteousness are outward manifestations of an interior faith. Religion is not an abstraction and selfish quest for personal satisfaction. It is a quest for the perfection of the world through deeds of kindness.

Judaism lays a great emphasis on importance of a good moral life at every moment. Charity must be practised, and a proportion of one’s income should be earmarked for this purpose, as a visible expression of universal love. Charity also saves a man from death.

And when you reap the harvest of the land, thou shall not wholly reap the harvest of the land, thou shall not wholly reap the corners of the field when thou reapest, neither shall thou gather the gleaning of thy harvest; thou shall leave them for the poor and for the stranger.

There are three characters among men – he who says, what is mine is mine, and what is thine is thine; he is a neutral character. He who says what is thine and what is mine is thine, is a saint. He who says what is thine is mine and what is mine is mine; is wicked. Torah says, “Happy is he who giveth to the poor,” but “Happy is he who wisely considers the poor.”

In Judaism, the concept of charity is called Tzedakah, a Hebrew word that means ‘righteousness’ or ‘justice’. It is a religious obligation to help others and bring fairness to the world, and it is not limited to financial donation. Tzedakah can include giving money, showing kindness, charity, good deeds, building relationships and contributing time and effort. Judaism holds anonymous giving to people who are less fortunate with compassion as the highest form of charity.

There are Maimonides, Eight degrees of giving, one higher than the other. He who gives grudgingly, reluctantly, or with regret. He who gives less than he should but gives graciously. He who gives before he is asked. He who gives without knowing to whom he gives although the recipient knows the identity of the donor.

He who gives without knowing to whom he gives, neither does the recipient know from whom he receives. He who helps a fellowman to support himself through a gift or a loan. Or by finding him employment, thus helping him become self-supporting.

Life and death are part of the divine plan for the world. Since life is the most sacred gift of God, we are all obliged to fulfil obligation to save lives of our fellow brothers and sisters. Let us all hope that we are all able to be kind, compassionate, loving, tolerant, nonviolent so that our planet is illuminated with peace and wisdom.By Ezekiel Isaac Malekar

What is the purpose of religion? Is it to elevate our souls and to bring us as close as possible to God? The true purpose of religion is to bring out the potentialities of everyone to create a new Garden of Eden. To this, we must maintain a high level of spirituality otherwise we will stoop to illicit means to obtain our goals.

Acts of charity, loving kindness and righteousness are outward manifestations of an interior faith. Religion is not an abstraction and selfish quest for personal satisfaction. It is a quest for the perfection of the world through deeds of kindness.

Judaism lays a great emphasis on importance of a good moral life at every moment. Charity must be practised, and a proportion of one’s income should be earmarked for this purpose, as a visible expression of universal love. Charity also saves a man from death.

And when you reap the harvest of the land, thou shall not wholly reap the harvest of the land, thou shall not wholly reap the corners of the field when thou reapest, neither shall thou gather the gleaning of thy harvest; thou shall leave them for the poor and for the stranger.

There are three characters among men – he who says, what is mine is mine, and what is thine is thine; he is a neutral character. He who says what is thine and what is mine is thine, is a saint. He who says what is thine is mine and what is mine is mine; is wicked. Torah says, “Happy is he who giveth to the poor,” but “Happy is he who wisely considers the poor.”

In Judaism, the concept of charity is called Tzedakah, a Hebrew word that means ‘righteousness’ or ‘justice’. It is a religious obligation to help others and bring fairness to the world, and it is not limited to financial donation. Tzedakah can include giving money, showing kindness, charity, good deeds, building relationships and contributing time and effort. Judaism holds anonymous giving to people who are less fortunate with compassion as the highest form of charity.

There are Maimonides, Eight degrees of giving, one higher than the other. He who gives grudgingly, reluctantly, or with regret. He who gives less than he should but gives graciously. He who gives before he is asked. He who gives without knowing to whom he gives although the recipient knows the identity of the donor.

He who gives without knowing to whom he gives, neither does the recipient know from whom he receives. He who helps a fellowman to support himself through a gift or a loan. Or by finding him employment, thus helping him become self-supporting.

Life and death are part of the divine plan for the world. Since life is the most sacred gift of God, we are all obliged to fulfil obligation to save lives of our fellow brothers and sisters. Let us all hope that we are all able to be kind, compassionate, loving, tolerant, nonviolent so that our planet is illuminated with peace and wisdom.

By Muni Pranamyasagar)

Chaos, unrest, suffering, and misuse of power arise when the human mind disconnects from real nature of the soul. The connotation of Dashlalshan Dharm, ten virtues, is not religious; it is to focus on inherent qualities of soul. In Jain philosophy, dharm is defined as svabhav , the natural state of a person or thing. When a person is following their true nature, he is following dharm.






The ten are not divisions of dharm but its components. Even if one virtue is practised fully, others naturally follow. Names are given separately for focused cultivation, much like subjects are divided in education. For example: Kshama, forgiveness, marda, humility, arjava, straightforwardness/simplicity, shaucha, purity, satya, truth, tapa, austerity, tyag, renunciation, aakinchanya, non-possessiveness, brahmacharya, celibacy, and santosh, contentment.

Someone who cultivates forgiveness will naturally also become humble and simple, but to sharpen focus, they are explained separately. Just like students study many subjects but eventually realise the unity of knowledge, these virtues are facets of one essence.

If one begins with forgiveness and abides in their true Self, they complete the journey of Self-realisation. Wrongdoing—towards family, society, or nation— happens when a person strays from these virtues. Anger, ego, greed, and possessiveness are deviations from one’s true Self. Jain Darshan says: When the mind is connected with these ten virtues, it stays under control.

These virtues are not external impositions; they are soul’s own nature. Practising them is to align the mind with the soul. The annual observance of Dashlakshan dharm festival ensures at least once a year, people reconnect with the Self. Disorder, oppression, or cruelty arise only when people lose connection with their own true nature.

When a person cultivates these virtues, they become an example for others.

Every soul is eternal but impure, bound with karm since beginningless time. The ten virtues are like detergent to cleanse the soul. Once the soul is purified, it remains in this state. Each soul is complete in itself, not a fragment of some universal whole. Once purified, the soul attains infinite knowledge and bliss – this is liberation. In Jainism, god is not a single supreme being but every liberated soul. Hence, there are infinite gods; any soul can attain Godhood through purification. Jainism holds that each soul has the potential for liberation. One who transcends bondage becomes God. All souls are equal, but their states differ according to karm.
There are four realms of existence: human, tiryancha, animal/plant, deva, celestial and narak, hell. Souls migrate among these until liberation. Devas are not the same as liberated souls; they enjoy pleasures and powers, but only a liberated soul, free from body and mind, is called Bhagvan.

The essence of the soul is consciousness – the power to know and perceive. This power does not exist in non-living matter like books, wood, or stone. From nigod , the lowest state of existence, souls gradually evolve, migrating through various forms. Souls are eternal – they are never created anew, only transformed in state, just like matter, which cannot be created or destroyed.

(As told to Sonal Srivastava)

Sadhguru Jaggi Vasudev

Every year, as the monsoon clouds thin and the air fills with anticipation, millions prepare to celebrate Ganesh Chaturthi – one of India’s most cherished festivals, honouring Ganapati, God of wisdom, learning, and remover of obstacles. Yet beneath festive rituals and sweet treats lies a story that goes beyond myth into a profound symbol of intelligence, transformation, and the power of creation.

The story begins with Shiv, the great ascetic yogi, leaving home and his consort, Parvati, for long periods. Driven by loneliness and maternal longing, she took an extraordinary step. She gathered the sandal paste from her body – carrying flakes of her skin with it – blended it with soil and shaped it into a child.

Into this figure, she breathed life. Years later, when Shiv returned, he encountered a boy guarding his mother’s privacy. Neither recognised the other, and in anger, Shiv beheaded the child. Parvati’s grief and rage were immense, and to repair the tragedy, Shiv replaced the boy’s head with that of the leader of his ganas – strange, otherworldly beings who accompanied him.

These ganas were said to have boneless limbs and forms unlike humans, which inspired artists to depict Ganesh with an elephant’s head, but still, in every mantra, in every expression of devotion, it is Ganapati, and not Gajapati. Thus, Ganesh was born from Parvati’s life-giving force, enjoined with the head of Shiv’s gana, symbol of intelligence and consciousness. Ganesh is the embodiment of balancedintelligence, the nemesis of all obstacles.

He is revered as Vigneshwar, remover of obstacles. But this does not mean he magically erases difficulties. His real teaching is subtler: when we cultivate intelligence, balance, and clarity, obstacles dissolve. They cease to be barriers and instead become stepping stones.

Intelligence here is not cunning or manipulation, but an attunement to existence – an inner equilibrium that allows us to move through life with ease, within and without. This understanding comes alive during Ganesh Chaturthi. For days, devotees craft idols of Ganesh, worship with food and music, and celebrate with devotion.

The festival culminates in immersion of the idol in water. The making of the idol reflects Parvati’s act of creation, while its immersion echoes Shiv’s transformative act of destruction and renewal. Together, these embody the same cycle of intelligence – bringing form into being, learning through it, and then releasing it.

Through Ganesh Chaturthi, we learn that true intelligence is never rigid or possessive, but fluid and unbound, like life itself, which constantly creates and dissolves. The practice of creating and then immersing the idol is a cultural way of acknowledging existence’s fluid nature – not clinging blindly to forms but imbibing their qualities and letting go.

Ultimately, Ganesh Chaturthi is a celebration of moving from form to formlessness. True intelligence is not accumulation of knowledge or being street smart; it is the capacity to live in harmony with existence, to flow without resistance, to transform obstacles into growth, and to expand beyond limitations.

So, as you partake in this vibrant festival, savour modaks, admire artistry of the clay idols, and reflect on deeper message of Ganapati: to cultivate intelligence that dissolves obstacles, celebrates unity, and honours delicate balance of life itself.
May this Ganesh Chaturthi awaken that boundless intelligence and balance of creation in you.

By Ezekiel Isaac Malekar

What is the purpose of religion? Is it to elevate our souls and to bring us as close as possible to God? The true purpose of religion is to bring out the potentialities of everyone to create a new Garden of Eden. To this, we must maintain a high level of spirituality otherwise we will stoop to illicit means to obtain our goals.

Acts of charity, loving kindness and righteousness are outward manifestations of an interior faith. Religion is not an abstraction and selfish quest for personal satisfaction. It is a quest for the perfection of the world through deeds of kindness.

Judaism lays a great emphasis on importance of a good moral life at every moment. Charity must be practised, and a proportion of one’s income should be earmarked for this purpose, as a visible expression of universal love. Charity also saves a man from death.

And when you reap the harvest of the land, thou shall not wholly reap the harvest of the land, thou shall not wholly reap the corners of the field when thou reapest, neither shall thou gather the gleaning of thy harvest; thou shall leave them for the poor and for the stranger.

There are three characters among men – he who says, what is mine is mine, and what is thine is thine; he is a neutral character. He who says what is thine and what is mine is thine, is a saint. He who says what is thine is mine and what is mine is mine; is wicked. Torah says, “Happy is he who giveth to the poor,” but “Happy is he who wisely considers the poor.”

In Judaism, the concept of charity is called Tzedakah, a Hebrew word that means ‘righteousness’ or ‘justice’. It is a religious obligation to help others and bring fairness to the world, and it is not limited to financial donation. Tzedakah can include giving money, showing kindness, charity, good deeds, building relationships and contributing time and effort. Judaism holds anonymous giving to people who are less fortunate with compassion as the highest form of charity.

There are Maimonides, Eight degrees of giving, one higher than the other. He who gives grudgingly, reluctantly, or with regret. He who gives less than he should but gives graciously. He who gives before he is asked. He who gives without knowing to whom he gives although the recipient knows the identity of the donor.

He who gives without knowing to whom he gives, neither does the recipient know from whom he receives. He who helps a fellowman to support himself through a gift or a loan. Or by finding him employment, thus helping him become self-supporting.

Life and death are part of the divine plan for the world. Since life is the most sacred gift of God, we are all obliged to fulfil obligation to save lives of our fellow brothers and sisters. Let us all hope that we are all able to be kind, compassionate, loving, tolerant, nonviolent so that our planet is illuminated with peace and wisdom.