Dr. Saumitra Mohan, IAS

 

 Unravelling the Law of Karma and Human Suffering

Creation, as contemplated in the depths of Hindu philosophical thought, is not an act

compelled by necessity, nor an outcome of any deficiency in the Divine, but rather a

spontaneous and joyous expression of infinite fullness. The ancient seers of the Upanishads

captured this mystery in the profound utterance “एकोऽहम् बहुस्याम्”—“I am One; may I

become many.” This declaration does not signify a desire born of a limitation, but an

overflow of completeness, an urge of bliss (ānanda) to manifest, to express, and to

experience itself in manifold forms. The Supreme Reality, self-contained and perfect, projects

the universe out of what may be described as a “desireless desire,” a movement within

stillness, a play within perfection. Thus begins the cosmic drama—the līlā—in which the One

appears as many, without ever ceasing to be One.

In this grand manifestation, the individual soul, or jīvātman, emerges as a reflection of

the Supreme Consciousness, the Paramātman. Each soul is, in essence, divine, eternal, and

unbounded. Yet, upon entering the realm of nature (prakṛti), it becomes veiled by māyā, the

mysterious power that makes the unreal appear real and the eternal seem transient. This

veiling does not alter the true nature of the soul, but obscures it, much like clouds conceal the

sun without diminishing its brilliance. The soul, under the influence of māyā, begins to

identify itself with the body, the mind, and the senses. It assumes limitations that do not

belong to it and becomes entangled in the web of dualities—pleasure and pain, success and

failure, love and loss.

This identification is the root of human suffering. The eternal, mistaking itself for the

ephemeral, becomes subject to fear, attachment, and sorrow. Like an actor who becomes so

engrossed in his role that he forgets his true identity, the soul loses awareness of its divine

origin and becomes bound to the narrative of worldly existence. The Bhagavad Gita

repeatedly reminds us that the Self is unborn, undying, and indestructible, yet due to

ignorance (avidyā), we experience ourselves as limited beings, vulnerable to change and

decay.

Human birth, in this cosmic unfolding, is of immense significance. It is regarded in

Hindu thought as a rare and precious opportunity, for it is only in the human form that the

faculties of discrimination (viveka) and free will are fully developed. These faculties enable

the individual to question, to reflect, and ultimately to transcend the limitations imposed by

ignorance. Man is not merely a passive participant in the cosmic drama; he is endowed with

the power to shape his destiny. He can either remain bound to the cycle of birth and death

(saṃsāra) or strive toward liberation (mokṣa).

However, this freedom also carries with it the possibility of error. The misuse of free

will leads to actions that bind the soul further, while its proper use leads to liberation. Many

souls, enchanted by the attractions of the material world, become deeply attached to their

roles and forget their true purpose. They seek fulfillment in transient pleasures, only to find

themselves caught in cycles of desire and dissatisfaction. This condition is poignantly

described in the scriptures as a state of forgetfulness, where the soul, though inherently

divine, lives as though it were merely a finite being.

The presence of evil and suffering in the world often raises questions about the nature

of the Divine. If God is all-good and all-powerful, why does evil exist? Hindu philosophy

offers a nuanced response to this question. Rather than attributing evil to God, it sees it as an

integral part of the experiential world, serving a deeper purpose. Evil provides the necessary

contrast that allows us to recognize and appreciate goodness. Without darkness, light would

have no meaning; without sorrow, joy would lose its significance. Just as a painting requires

both light and shadow to reveal its depth, life requires a spectrum of experiences to unfold its

richness.

Moreover, the world is often compared to a dramatic performance or a moving

picture. A compelling drama cannot consist solely of pleasant scenes; it must include conflict,

tension, and resolution. The presence of opposing forces—good and evil, virtue and

vice—creates the dynamic interplay that makes life meaningful. In this sense, evil becomes a

part of the divine play, not as an end in itself, but as a means of awakening the soul. It serves

to disillusion us with the fleeting nature of worldly pleasures and redirects our attention

toward the eternal.

Underlying this entire framework is the immutable law of karma, the principle of

cause and effect that governs all actions. According to this law, every thought, word, and

deed produces a corresponding result. This is not a system of reward and punishment

administered by an external authority, but a natural law that operates with perfect justice and

impartiality. God, in His infinite compassion, does not punish us; rather, we experience the

consequences of our own actions. In this sense, we are both the architects of our destiny and

the beneficiaries or sufferers of our own choices.

The doctrine of karma explains the apparent inequalities and injustices of life. What

we experience in the present is shaped not only by our current actions but also by those of

past lives. Thus, suffering is not arbitrary, but meaningful. It is the unfolding of past causes,

offering us an opportunity to learn, to grow, and to evolve. The Upanishadic insight “यथा कर्म

यथा श्रुतम्”—“As one acts, so one becomes”—captures this profound truth.

Suffering, therefore, is not merely a burden to be endured, but a teacher to be

understood. For those who are willing to learn, it becomes a powerful force for

transformation. It compels introspection, fosters humility, and awakens a deeper quest for

truth. However, for those who resist or resent it, suffering can become a source of bitterness

and despair. The difference lies not in the nature of the experience, but in the attitude with

which it is approached. The Bhagavad Gita advises us to cultivate equanimity, to remain

steady in both pleasure and pain, recognizing their transient nature and their role in our

spiritual evolution.

In this journey, the role of religion is not merely to provide comfort or to prescribe

rituals, but to offer a systematic path toward the cessation of suffering and the realization of

eternal bliss. True religion, in the Hindu sense, is a science of the soul. It encompasses

various disciplines—ethical living, self-control, meditation, devotion, and knowledge—all

aimed at purifying the mind and awakening the inner consciousness. Through these practices,

the individual gradually transcends the limitations of the ego and realizes his unity with the

Divine.

An important aspect of this realization is the understanding of the mind’s role in

creating and perpetuating suffering. While physical pain may be unavoidable, much of our

suffering is psychological, arising from identification, attachment, and resistance. Children

and animals, whose minds are less conditioned and less identified with the body, often

experience pain in a simpler, more direct manner. In contrast, adults, burdened by memory,

anticipation, and ego, amplify their suffering through mental constructs. By mastering the

mind through meditation and self-awareness, one can reduce and even transcend this

suffering.

At the heart of all spiritual teachings lies the principle of divine love. God’s love is

unconditional, embracing all beings as expressions of Himself. This love is not merely

emotional, but transformative. It seeks to elevate the soul, to guide it toward its highest

potential. One who truly loves God begins to see His presence in all beings. Such a person

cannot harbour hatred or ill will, for to harm another is to harm oneself as we are all children

of the same God, made in his own image and part of an indivisible larger consciousness. The

vision of unity dissolves all divisions, giving rise to compassion, forgiveness, and selfless

service. The ideal of “वसुधैव कुटुम्बकम्”—the world as one family—becomes a living reality.

Death, which is often feared as the end of existence, is understood in Hindu

philosophy as a natural and necessary transition in the soul’s journey. It is not a termination,

but a transformation. Just as a person discards worn-out garments and puts on new ones, the

soul leaves behind an old body and takes on a new one. Natural death is likened to the falling

of a ripe fruit, effortless and timely, while premature death may involve resistance due to

unfulfilled desires and attachments. Yet, even in such cases, the journey continues, guided by

the law of karma.

However, on death, we begin anew, forgetting the irrelevant details from the past lives

and carrying forward only the relevant, dominant tendencies. The forgetting of past lives is,

in fact, a profound blessing. It allows the soul to begin anew, unburdened by the weight of

past sorrows, failures, and attachments. Imagine the confusion and emotional turmoil that

would arise if one were to carry the full memory of multiple lifetimes into the present. This

veil of forgetfulness enables fresh experiences, new relationships, and renewed efforts toward

growth. However, the lessons of the past are not lost; they are carried forward as tendencies

(saṃskāras), subtly influencing our thoughts and actions.

Through repeated cycles of birth and death, the soul gradually evolves, learning from

its experiences and moving closer to its true nature. It seeks permanence in a world of

impermanence and eventually realizes that lasting fulfillment cannot be found in the

transient. The journey of the soul is, therefore, a quest for its own source, a return to the unity

from which it emerged. Narrow attachments and limited identities must eventually give way

to a universal vision, in which all beings are recognized as manifestations of the same Divine

Reality.

Thus, this world may be seen as a vast and intricate laboratory, a field of experience

where the soul is tested, refined, and awakened. Through the fire of life’s challenges, the

impurities of ignorance are burned away, revealing the pure gold of divine consciousness.

Every experience, whether joyful or painful, contributes to this process of transformation.

Nothing is wasted; everything has a purpose in the grand design.

In the final analysis, life is not a meaningless sequence of events, but a deeply

purposeful journey. It is a movement from ignorance to knowledge, from bondage to

freedom, from multiplicity to unity. When the soul finally realizes its true nature, it

transcends the cycle of birth and death and abides in the eternal bliss of the Spirit. The drama

of life continues, but the realized soul is no longer bound by it. It becomes a witness, a

participant in the divine play, fully aware of its unity with the Supreme, and established in a

state of unshakable peace and joy.

 Understanding the Divine by Expanding Our Consciousness

The human quest to understand God and the purpose of existence has occupied the

deepest layers of philosophical inquiry, particularly within the rich traditions of Hindu

thought. Yet, one of the first realizations that emerges from this inquiry is that God cannot be

grasped merely through intellectual reasoning. Logic and analysis, though valuable in

navigating the material world, fall short when applied to the Infinite. The Divine, by its very

nature, transcends the limitations of human thought. Therefore, to truly realize God, one must

go beyond the restless activity of the mind and enter a higher state of awareness—one that is

intuitive, direct, and experiential.

This higher awareness is often described as universal consciousness, a state in which

the individual recognizes that the essence within oneself is not separate from the essence that

pervades the entire cosmos. The sages have long illustrated this truth through simple yet

profound metaphors: just as small waves and large waves arise from the same ocean, so do all

beings arise from the same Divine Reality. Differences exist only in appearance; in essence,

everything is a manifestation of the same infinite Spirit. To perceive this truth is to awaken

from the illusion of separateness.

However, such realization is not easily attained. The human mind, conditioned by

sensory experiences and habitual patterns of thought, is limited in its capacity to comprehend

the Infinite. Attempting to contain God within the narrow confines of ordinary consciousness

is like trying to hold the ocean in a small cup. The cup must be expanded. Similarly, human

faculties—attention, concentration, intuition—must be refined and enlarged to receive even a

glimpse of the Divine. This expansion of consciousness is the essence of spiritual practice.

At the root of human limitation lies ignorance—the fundamental error of identifying

oneself with the body and ego rather than with the soul. This ignorance is regarded in Hindu

philosophy as the greatest of all sins, not in a moralistic sense, but as a state of misperception.

The soul, though inherently infinite, assumes finitude by identifying with the temporary. It

forgets its divine origin and begins to live as though it were bound by birth, death, pleasure,

and pain. Yet, the scriptures affirm that all souls were originally created alike, in the image of

the Divine. As mortal beings, we are expressions of God’s creation; as realized beings, we

recognize ourselves as participants in His very nature, endowed with creative power and

spiritual sovereignty.

Every human being, therefore, is an expression of an immeasurable and infinite

consciousness. We are not isolated entities, but receivers of the subtle “broadcasts” of

universal laws that govern existence. Just as a radio receives signals when tuned to the proper

frequency, so too can the human mind receive higher truths when it is attuned through

discipline and awareness. The divinity that we seek outside lies dormant within us, awaiting

awakening. To realize it, we must expand the powers of the mind, refine our awareness, and

awaken our intuitive faculties.

As children of the Divine, we are endowed with extraordinary gifts—freedom of will,

the power of reason, and the capacity for conscious action. These gifts place upon us both a

privilege and a responsibility. We are not meant to live in narrow selfishness or to remain

confined within limited identities. The purpose of life is to experience the cosmic drama and

then rise above it, returning to our source with expanded consciousness. Yet, many of us

become so attached to the “movie house” of the world that we forget it is only a temporary

stage.

The challenge, therefore, is to live in the world without becoming bound by it. This

requires evenness of mind—a state of inner balance that remains undisturbed by changing

circumstances. From the standpoint of the soul, no individual is inherently greater or lesser

than another. All are expressions of the same Divine Reality, differing only in the degree of

awareness. The analogy of the fly and the honeybee offer a striking insight: the fly is attracted

indiscriminately to both filth and sweetness, while the honeybee seeks only the fragrance of

flowers. Similarly, the human mind, when unrefined, becomes entangled in both negativity

and positivity, but when purified, it learns to seek only that which uplifts and ennobles.

Despite its involvement in the material world, the soul itself remains untouched and

unchanged. Its essential nature is pure, eternal, and luminous. However, through the influence

of māyā, it becomes subjectively identified with change and mortality. Spiritual evolution is

the process by which this identification is gradually dissolved, and the soul reawakens to its

true nature. When this awakening occurs, the individual realizes that to know God is to know

everything, for God is the source and substance of all that exists.

The path to such realization lies in meditation—a disciplined practice that enables the

mind to withdraw from external distractions and merge with the inner consciousness.

Meditation is not merely a technique but a doorway, the one portal through which every

seeker must pass to experience the Divine directly. In meditation, the mind becomes calm,

concentrated, and expansive. It shifts its focus from the ever-changing phenomena of life to

the changeless reality that underlies them. In this stillness, the individual begins to experience

a state of completeness, where desires are fulfilled not by external acquisition but by inner

realization.

The practice of yoga, particularly Rāja Yoga, provides a systematic method for this

inner transformation. Yoga, in its truest sense, means union—the merging of individual

consciousness with universal consciousness. It is both a science and an art, offering step-by-

step techniques for mastering the body, controlling the mind, and awakening intuition.

Contrary to common misconceptions, yoga does not advocate withdrawal from action.

Rather, it teaches the art of right action—acting with awareness, detachment, and dedication

to the Divine. One who performs actions without attachment to their results, offering them to

God, is considered a true yogi.

Closely allied with yoga is the philosophy of Vedanta, which describes the ultimate

nature of reality and the unity of all existence. Vedanta declares that everything is Brahman,

the infinite Spirit, and that the apparent duality between matter and spirit is an illusion created

by māyā. However, Vedantic knowledge is not merely intellectual; it must be realized through

direct experience. Without the discipline of yoga to purify the mind and awaken intuition, the

truths of Vedanta remain abstract and inaccessible.

The Sāṅkhya philosophy complements this understanding by analyzing the nature of

suffering and its causes. It teaches that human suffering arises from the misidentification of

the self with the body and mind, and that true religion lies in the complete eradication of this

suffering. It urges the individual to seek a higher path, beyond temporary remedies, toward

permanent freedom.

In this journey, even doubt plays a constructive role. The ability to question is

essential for growth, for it prevents blind acceptance and encourages deeper inquiry.

However, it must be understood that ultimate truths cannot be grasped by the sensory mind or

the intellect alone. While the intellect can interpret phenomena, it cannot comprehend the

underlying reality—the noumenon or abstract reality. For that, one must rely on direct

experience, gained through meditation and inner realization.

Ethical transformation is equally important in this process. True spirituality does not

lie in self-centred pursuits, but in expanding one’s sense of identity to include others. There is

a form of selfishness that seeks personal comfort at the expense of others, and there is a

higher, sacred selfishness that finds joy in the happiness of others. To feel the suffering of

others and to act for their welfare is to align oneself with the Divine. Emotions such as anger,

hatred, and desire are not to be suppressed blindly, but transformed—like a skilled chemist

converting raw substances into useful compounds—into forces that serve constructive and

compassionate ends.

Detachment from the body and its limitations is another essential aspect of spiritual

growth. This does not mean neglecting the body, but transcending identification with it.

Through mental discipline, concentration, and the withdrawal of attention from the senses,

one can rise above bodily consciousness and experience the vastness of the spirit. This state

of inner renunciation can be achieved even while living in the midst of society. One need not

flee to the mountains or forests; the true hermitage is within. A person who has attained self-

control can remain inwardly detached and spiritually-centred even in the busiest

environments.

In this light, renunciation is not an end in itself, but a means to an end—the realization

of God. The true renunciant is not one who abandons the world outwardly, but one who lives

for the Divine inwardly, performing all actions with a sense of dedication and service. Any

activity, no matter how ordinary, becomes a means of liberation when performed with the

consciousness of God and for the welfare of others.

Human life, therefore, is not meant to be lived unconsciously, driven solely by instinct

and habit. To live without introspection is to remain at the level of animal existence. True

emancipation lies in the destruction of ignorance through wisdom—both the wisdom gained

through reasoning and the higher wisdom gained through direct contact with the Spirit.

Many of our latent faculties remain dormant simply because they are not exercised.

The human being possesses immense potential—intuitive, mental, and spiritual—that can be

awakened through conscious effort. Even subtle interactions, such as human contact, are

believed to involve the exchange of energies or “magnetism.” The influence of individuals

with strong, positive consciousness can uplift others, just as the vibrations of spiritually

advanced beings can be felt even from a distance through deep meditation.

Ultimately, the journey of life is a movement toward the expansion of

consciousness—a gradual awakening from limitation to infinity. To understand God’s drama

is not merely to observe it, but to participate in it consciously, to grow through it, and finally

to transcend it. When the individual realizes his unity with the Infinite, the search comes to an

end. What remains is not a separate self-striving toward God, but the realization that one has

always been a part of that infinite, blissful, and all-pervading Reality.

 Reincarnations Help Our Spiritual Evolution

Life, as envisioned in the profound traditions of Hindu philosophy, is neither a

random unfolding of events nor a purposeless drift through time; it is a vast, meticulously

structured school in which every experience—whether sweet or bitter—serves as a lesson for

the gradual evolution of the soul. The ancient seers perceived existence as inherently

educative. Nothing that happens to us is without meaning. Every joy refines our sensitivity,

every sorrow deepens our understanding, every challenge tests our strength, and every

relationship reveals some hidden dimension of our own being. In this grand design, the

universe itself becomes the classroom, time the silent instructor, and the soul the eternal

student moving from ignorance to wisdom.

Within this cosmic school, individuals stand at different levels of learning. Some

absorb life’s lessons with awareness and humility, transforming experience into insight and

compassion. Others, however, resist or misunderstand these lessons, driven by ignorance,

ego, or attachment, and, thus, find themselves repeating the same patterns of suffering. Hindu

thought often draws an analogy with a student: one who fails to pass an examination must

return to the same class until the subject is mastered. Similarly, the soul, when it fails to

assimilate the lessons of a particular stage of existence, must return again and again to the

cycle of birth and death—saṃsāra—until it grows in understanding.

Reincarnation, therefore, is not to be seen as a punishment, but as a continuation of an

unfinished education. It is an expression of divine compassion, allowing the soul repeated

opportunities to learn, to evolve, and to ultimately realize its true nature. The Bhagavad Gita

offers a deeply reassuring insight when it declares that no effort on the path of growth is ever

lost; even a little progress carries forward into future lives. The soul advances gradually, life

after life, passing through different “grades” of physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual

development, until it earns the ultimate “diploma” of perfection—mokṣa, liberation from all

limitations and the realization of its unity with the Supreme.

At the root of this repeated return lies the subtle but powerful force of desire. Desires

are not merely fleeting wishes; they are formative energies that shape the trajectory of the

soul’s journey. Every desire leaves behind an impression, a saṃskāra, which seeks

fulfillment. When desires remain unfulfilled at the end of a lifetime, they create a momentum

that draws the soul back into embodiment. Thus, reincarnation is propelled not by an external

force, but by the inner continuity of one’s own tendencies and longings. As long as desires

persist, the cycle continues; when they are understood, transcended, or fulfilled in wisdom,

the cycle begins to loosen its hold.

Yet, even as the soul undergoes this long process of learning and fulfillment, it is

simultaneously participating in what Hindu thought beautifully describes as a divine

drama—līlā. The world is a stage, and each individual is an actor entrusted with a specific

role. Some roles appear prominent and powerful, others modest and seemingly insignificant,

but each is indispensable to the harmony of the whole. The value of a role does not lie in its

outward grandeur, but in the sincerity, awareness, and excellence with which it is performed.

This insight finds clear expression in the teaching of svadharma (one’s own duty) in

the Bhagavad Gita. One is advised to perform one’s own duty, however humble, rather than

imitate another’s role, however glorious it may appear. A drama cannot function if every

actor insists on playing the king or the hero; it requires a diversity of roles to create coherence

and meaning. Likewise, life becomes harmonious when each individual accepts and performs

his or her unique role with dedication, without envy or comparison. Even a minor role, if

performed poorly, can disrupt the entire production, while a seemingly small contribution,

performed with excellence, can elevate the whole.

To live with this understanding is to transform life into a conscious participation in the

divine play. One acts wholeheartedly, yet remains inwardly unattached to the outcomes.

Success and failure, praise and criticism, gain and loss are seen as parts of the script rather

than measures of one’s true worth. The wise individual performs his duties with cheerfulness

and sincerity, without wishing to exchange roles with another, recognizing that each path is

uniquely suited to the soul’s growth.

At a deeper level, the individuality that each person expresses in this life is not an

isolated or accidental phenomenon. It is shaped by a complex interplay of

influences—heredity, family environment, cultural context, geographical conditions, and,

most significantly, the accumulated tendencies from past lives. Hindu philosophy offers a

remarkably integrated view of human personality, acknowledging both the visible and

invisible factors that shape our existence. The conditions into which we are born are not

arbitrary; they are the natural outcomes of past actions, providing the most appropriate

circumstances for further learning and growth.

The intuitive observation that “the story of one’s life is written in the eyes” reflects

this deeper continuity. Behind the surface personality lies a vast, unspoken history—a record

of experiences, struggles, achievements, and aspirations carried across lifetimes. This history

is not consciously accessible in its entirety, for such a burden would overwhelm the mind.

Imagine carrying within oneself the full memory of countless lives—the joys, the losses, the

relationships, the regrets; the mind would be crowded beyond endurance, leaving little room

for clarity or peace.

Nature, in its profound wisdom, veils this vast storehouse of memory, allowing only

selective recall. This selective memory is not a limitation but a compassionate provision,

enabling us to function effectively in the present while still benefiting from the distilled

essence of past experiences. The deeper impressions, however, are never lost. They reside in

the subconscious as saṃskāras, subtly influencing our thoughts, preferences, habits, and

emotional responses. What we call character is, to a large extent, the expression of these

accumulated impressions.

Thus, our natural inclinations—our talents, our fears, our attractions, and

aversions—are not random occurrences. They are the unfolding of a long evolutionary

journey. A person who displays innate kindness or wisdom may have cultivated these

qualities over many lives; another who struggles with anger, attachment, or confusion may be

working through deeply rooted patterns. In this sense, life becomes a continuous process of

self-unfoldment and evolution, where each moment offers an opportunity to refine these

tendencies and move toward greater awareness.

Despite this continuity, the presence of free will ensures that the future is not rigidly

determined by the past. While past actions shape our present circumstances, our response to

those circumstances remains within our control. At every moment, we are faced with a

choice: to reinforce old patterns or to transcend them. This dynamic interplay between past

conditioning and present freedom lies at the heart of human growth. It affirms both the justice

of the cosmic order and the possibility of transformation.

Ultimately, the aim of this long and intricate process is not merely to accumulate

experiences, but to transcend them—to realize one’s true nature as the Self, beyond all

limitations. When this realization dawns, the need for further schooling comes to an end. The

soul, having learned its lessons and exhausted its desires, is no longer compelled to return. It

attains mokṣa, a state of freedom, peace, and unbroken awareness of its unity with the Divine.

Until that realization is attained, life continues to unfold as both a school and a stage.

Every experience becomes a lesson; every role becomes an opportunity for expression and

growth. One who understands this begins to live with a sense of purpose and acceptance.

Complaints give way to curiosity, envy gives way to self-fulfillment, and resistance gives

way to learning. One begins to see that nothing is trivial, that every moment contributes to the

unfolding of a greater destiny.

In this integrated vision, the metaphors of the classroom and the stage converge into a

single, profound understanding of existence. We are at once students learning from

experience and actors participating in a divine drama. The lessons we learn refine our

performance, and the roles we play provide the context for our learning. When both are

approached with awareness, sincerity, and detachment, life itself becomes a path to liberation.

The journey, then, is from unconscious participation to conscious realization—from being

lost in the role to recognizing the actor, and finally to realizing the One who is both the actor

and the witness of the entire play. In that realization, all distinctions dissolve, all lessons are

fulfilled, and the soul abides in its original state of freedom, wisdom, and bliss.

 Quantum Physics and Indian Metaphysics

The modern scientific world often prides itself on its precision, its empirical rigour, and its relentless pursuit of measurable truth. Yet, in recent decades, some of its most revolutionary discoveries—particularly in quantum physics—have begun to echo ideas that were articulated thousands of years ago in the philosophical traditions of India. Two such principles stand out: the notion that the observer influences the observed, and the mysterious inter-connectedness described by quantum entanglement. These are not merely scientific curiosities; they open doors to profound metaphysical reflections, many of which resonate deeply with the insights of the Vedas, the Upanishads, and the system of Vedanta.

To begin with, the principle that the observer influences the observed emerges from experiments in quantum mechanics, most famously the double-slit experiment which was first conducted in 1801. At the sub-atomic level, particles such as electrons behave differently depending on whether they are being observed or not. When unobserved, they exhibit wave-like behaviour, spreading out in probabilities. But when observed, they appear to “collapse” into a definite state, behaving like particles. This strange phenomenon challenges the classical notion of an objective, independent reality that exists entirely separate from the observer.

This idea finds a striking parallel in Indian philosophical thought. The Upanishadic sages consistently emphasized that reality is not merely “out there” but is deeply intertwined with our consciousness. The observed actually would have no independent existence if it itself is not observed and acknowledged by the observer. With our varied consciousness, we perceive the reality differently and the reality also responds differently. Does not the same person respond differently to different persons? The concept of Drishti-Srishti—loosely translated as “the world is as it is perceived”—suggests that perception is not passive, but creative. The seer (drashta) and the seen (drishya) are not entirely separate entities. In fact, the ultimate inquiry of the Upanishads is directed inward: Who is the observer? Who is the one that experiences? 

The famous mahavakya “Tat Tvam Asi” (That Thou Art) from the Chandogya Upanishad collapses the distinction between the observer and the observed altogether. It suggests that the essence of the individual self (Atman) is identical with the ultimate reality (Brahman). In such a framework, the act of observation is not a trivial interaction—it is a meeting of reality with itself. The quantum insight that observation alters reality, thus, appears less paradoxical and more like a rediscovery of an ancient truth: consciousness is not separate from the cosmos; it is fundamental to it.

The second principle, quantum entanglement, takes us even deeper into this convergence. Entanglement refers to the phenomenon where two particles become so intrinsically linked that the state of one instantaneously influences the state of the other, regardless of the distance separating them. Quantum entanglement baffled even Albert Einstein, who famously called it “spooky action at a distance.” Yet, repeated experiments have confirmed its validity, forcing science to reconsider the nature of space, time, and causality. It is the operation of this quantum entanglement that we often telepathically communicate, receive a call or have a feeling of déjà vu because we have, at the level of our consciousness, have already entangled or connected with the person or place in question.

Here again, Indian philosophy offers a remarkably resonant perspective. The Upanishads declare: “Sarvam Khalvidam Brahma”—all this is indeed Brahman. This is not merely a poetic statement, but a metaphysical assertion of non-duality, most systematically developed in Advaita Vedanta. According to Adi Shankaracharya, the apparent multiplicity of the world is underlain by a single, undivided reality. Separation is an illusion born of ignorance (avidya). At the deepest level, everything is interconnected because everything is one.

In such a worldview, entanglement is not an anomaly but a natural consequence of unity. If the universe is fundamentally one, then the apparent “distance” between objects is secondary, even illusory. What quantum physics reveals through complex mathematics and experiments, the sages of the Upanishads intuited through deep meditation and introspection: that the fabric of reality is an indivisible whole.

The Brihadaranyaka Upanishad goes even further, suggesting that the self is not confined to the body or mind, but is expansive and all-pervasive. When the boundaries of individuality dissolve, the distinction between “here” and “there,” “this” and “that,” begins to blur. In such a state of awareness, the idea that two particles could remain connected across vast distances does not seem mysterious—it seems inevitable.

It is important, however, not to oversimplify or conflate these domains. Quantum physics operates within a rigorous mathematical framework and deals with measurable phenomena, while Vedantic philosophy is concerned with experiential realization and metaphysical inquiry. Yet, the parallels are too striking to ignore. Both challenge the deeply ingrained assumptions of separateness, objectivity, and linear causality that have dominated much of Western thought since the Enlightenment.

Interestingly, several Western scientists have themselves acknowledged these resonances. Erwin Schrödinger, one of the pioneers of quantum mechanics, was deeply influenced by Vedantic ideas. He wrote extensively about the unity of consciousness and the illusion of multiplicity, drawing clear inspiration from the Upanishads. Similarly, Niels Bohr and Werner Heisenberg engaged with Eastern philosophical concepts, recognizing that classical Western frameworks were insufficient to fully grasp the implications of quantum discoveries.

What emerges from this dialogue between science and spirituality is not a simplistic validation of one by the other, but a richer, more nuanced understanding of reality. The observer effect invites us to reconsider the role of consciousness—not as a passive witness, but as an active participant in the unfolding of the universe. Entanglement invites us to rethink the nature of connection—not as something mediated by space and time, but as something intrinsic to existence itself.

These insights also carry profound ethical and existential implications. If the observer influences the observed, then our thoughts, perceptions, and intentions are not inconsequential—they shape the reality we inhabit. This aligns with the Vedantic emphasis on awareness, mindfulness, and self-knowledge. To know oneself is not merely a personal pursuit; it is a way of engaging with the world more consciously and responsibly. That’s why they say, if we change our thoughts, we change our reality.

Similarly, if all things are interconnected, then the boundaries we draw between self and other, human and nature, individual and collective, become less rigid. This fosters a sense of compassion, responsibility, and unity. The harm done to another is, in a deeper sense, harm done to oneself—a principle that lies at the heart of many Indian ethical teachings. After all, if there is no difference between the individual consciousness is part of the collective or Supreme consciousness, there can’t be any differentiation among different individuals and communities, thereby pointing at the futility of all the disputes and discords arising in the human society.

Ultimately, both quantum physics and Indian philosophy point toward a reality that is far more subtle, mysterious, and inter-connected than it appears on the surface. They invite us to move beyond the illusion of separateness and to recognize the profound unity underlying diversity. While their languages and methods differ, their insights converge on a shared intuition: that the universe is not a collection of isolated objects, but a dynamic, inter-connected whole in which consciousness plays a central role.

In this convergence, we may find not only intellectual satisfaction but also a deeper sense of meaning. For it suggests that the quest for knowledge—whether pursued through the laboratory or the inner self—is, at its core, a journey toward the same truth: the realization that the observer and the observed, the knower and the known, are not two, but one.

 The Purpose Behind Creation

The question ‘why God created the world—especially a world filled with sorrow, pain, and apparent contradictions’, —has stirred human inquiry across ages. The sages of the Upanishads, the seers of the Vedas, and the divine voice of the Bhagavad Gita have all approached this mystery not with simplistic answers, but with layered insights that illuminate the nature of reality itself.

A simple yet profound teaching story—echoing the spirit of the Mandukya Upanishad—helps us enter this inquiry. A student once approached his teacher and asked, “Why did God create this world, especially one filled with suffering, pain, and imperfection?” Instead of answering directly, the teacher asked the student to bring him some water. The student returned with water in a silver pot. The teacher, however, became angry and threw the pot aside, saying, “I asked you to bring water, not the pot!” The student, puzzled, replied, “Master, it is impossible to bring water without a container.” The teacher smiled and said, “That is your answer.”

This simple exchange carries immense philosophical depth. Just as water requires a vessel to be carried, the formless divine intelligence requires a medium for expression. Creation, then, is not an arbitrary act but a ‘necessary manifestation’—a way for the infinite to express itself in finite forms.

In the vision of the Upanishads, the ultimate reality is ‘Brahman’ or the Supreme Being—limitless, formless, pure consciousness. The Taittiriya Upanishad declares that from this ‘Brahman’, all beings are born, by it they are sustained, and into it they ultimately dissolve. Creation is not something separate from God; it is God in expression. Just as a musician expresses music or a poet expresses emotion through words, Brahman expresses itself as the ‘creation’.

Yet, this raises a subtle question: if Brahman is complete and perfect, why should it need to express itself at all? The answer offered by Vedanta is not in terms of necessity, but in terms of ‘overflowing fullness’. Creation is often described as ‘Lila’ or divine play. The Brahma Sutras suggest that creation is like play in the world, not driven by lack or insufficiency, but by spontaneous joyful manifestation.

However, one may still feel that this explanation is too abstract. A more relatable way to understand it is to consider intelligence itself. If an intelligence possesses infinite potential, but remains unexpressed, it remains unknown even to itself in experiential terms. Expression becomes a way of ‘realising and manifesting potential’. In this sense, creation becomes a cosmic unfolding—a way in which the divine intelligence explores its own possibilities for further manifestation and enrichment.

This brings us to the most troubling aspect of creation: suffering. Why should a divine expression include pain, sorrow, and conflict? The answer lies in the nature of experience itself. The Bhagavad Gita teaches that life operates through dualities—pleasure and pain, heat and cold, gain and loss. Without contrast, experience loses meaning. Sweetness can only be appreciated in contrast to bitterness; light is understood because of darkness.

Just consider a world where everything is uniformly pleasant, without any variation or challenge. Such a world would soon become monotonous, devoid of any depth or growth. Similarly, a story or a film becomes engaging only when it includes conflict, tension, and resolution. A narrative with only joy and no adversity would fail to hold our attention. In this sense, the diversity of experiences—including those we label as negative—contributes to the richness and intelligibility of existence.

Another powerful metaphor emerges here: the world as a film and God as the projectionist. The projectionist runs the film, projecting scenes of joy, sorrow, love, and conflict onto a screen. Yet he remains detached from the story. He has seen the film countless times and is not emotionally entangled in it. This analogy aligns closely with the teaching of the Bhagavad Gita, where Lord Krishna declares that although He creates and sustains the ‘creation’, He remains untouched by its actions. The events of the world unfold within the field of nature, while the divine remains the witnessing consciousness.

This perspective shifts our understanding of suffering. Pain and sorrow belong to the ‘realm of experience’, not to the ultimate reality. They are part of the play, not the essence of the player. The challenge for human beings is that we identify ourselves with the roles we play rather than with the underlying consciousness. If we simply become a watcher or an experiencer, we will not be affected by the pain or suffering coming our way.

The Upanishads repeatedly remind us of our true identity. The Chandogya Upanishad proclaims the famous mahavakya, “Tat Tvam Asi”—“Thou art That.” This means that the individual self is not separate from the ultimate reality. Yet, this truth is not immediately evident. Instead, life unfolds as a journey of discovery, where the soul experiences the full spectrum of existence before awakening to its true nature.

In this journey, suffering plays a crucial role. It acts as a catalyst for introspection and transformation. When life proceeds smoothly, one rarely questions its deeper meaning. It is often in moments of pain and crisis that one turns inward and seeks answers beyond the material world. Thus, suffering, though unpleasant, can become a doorway to wisdom, thereby kindling a desire to seek to go back home to our eternal father, the Almighty.

The doctrine of karma further explains the presence of suffering without attributing arbitrariness to divine creation. The Brihadaranyaka Upanishad teaches that as one acts, so one becomes. Actions produce consequences, and these consequences shape our experiences. God provides the framework—the laws of existence—but individuals participate in shaping their own destinies through their free will and choices, as bestowed by the Almighty.

Within this framework, another profound insight emerges: the world may also serve as a test of our orientation. Are we drawn to the transient pleasures of creation, or do we seek the underlying source? The Bhagavad Gita distinguishes between those who seek material gains and those who seek the divine itself. Most people become engrossed in what might be called the “toys” of creation—wealth, power, pleasure—forgetting the deeper reality from which these arise.

Yet the very impermanence of these experiences eventually leads to disillusionment. What is gained is lost, what is built is destroyed, what is loved is separated. This impermanence or temporariness of everything around nudges the seeker toward a more enduring truth. In this sense, creation is not merely a playground, but also a ‘pathway back to the source’.

The ultimate goal of this journey is liberation—moksha. The Katha Upanishad describes the state of one who realizes the ‘Self’ as going beyond sorrow. Such a person continues to live in the world, but is no longer bound by it. Like the projectionist, they witness the play without becoming entangled in it.

A helpful analogy is that of a dream. While dreaming, the experiences feel real—joy, fear, pain, excitement. But upon waking, one realizes that the entire dream unfolded within one’s own consciousness. Similarly, the world, though experientially real, is ultimately a manifestation within the infinite consciousness of the Brahman, a dream that we see on waking and realize the same on death.

Thus, the question of why God created the world may not admit a single, definitive answer. Instead, it opens a doorway to multiple layers of understanding. Creation can be seen as an expression, as a play, as a field of experience, as a school for learning, and as a path to self-realization.

Returning to the teacher’s lesson of the pot and water, we see that ‘creation’ is not an error or an accident. It is the necessary condition for manifestation. Without the pot, water cannot be carried; without creation, the divine cannot be experienced. The world, with all its beauty and complexity, becomes the medium through which the infinite is revealed.

In the end, the deepest resolution of this question does not lie in intellectual reasoning alone. It lies in realization—when one directly experiences that the creator, the creation, and the experiencer are not separate. Until then, the world remains both a mystery and an invitation: a mystery to contemplate and an invitation to discover the divine within and beyond.

 Gods of Small Things: The Hidden Architects of Our Lives

The phrase “God of Small Things” often evokes the idea that the divine does not manifest only in grand miracles, temples, or world-changing events. Rather, the divine intelligence that governs the universe often works quietly through ordinary people and seemingly insignificant circumstances. In the theatre of life, not every person appears on the main stage, yet many of those who stand in the wings quietly determine the course of the drama. These individuals—sometimes unnoticed, sometimes underestimated—are what we may call the “gods of small things.”

In this understanding, “god” does not mean a supernatural being sitting in heaven, but rather any human soul who becomes an instrument of the larger cosmic design. Every individual we encounter carries within them a spark of the same universal consciousness. Through their actions, words, or even chance presence, they may influence the direction of our lives. Some shape our destiny directly; others do so subtly, even unknowingly.

Human history provides numerous examples where the actions of apparently ordinary individuals altered the course of events.

Consider the life of Alexander Fleming. In 1928, Fleming discovered penicillin, the world’s first antibiotic. The discovery itself was accidental: a petri dish he had left unattended became contaminated with mold, and he noticed that bacteria around the mold had died. What seemed like a trivial laboratory mishap turned out to be one of the most important medical discoveries in human history. Yet Fleming himself was only the first link in a chain of individuals whose contributions transformed medicine. Scientists such as Howard Florey and Ernst Boris Chain later developed penicillin into a usable drug. Each played a role—small or large—in saving millions of lives. The discovery was not the work of a single hero but a network of people, circumstances, and quiet contributions.

Another powerful example comes from the life of Mahatma Gandhi. While Gandhi became the symbol of India’s freedom movement, a pivotal turning point in his life occurred in 1893 in South Africa. A railway official ordered him to leave a first-class compartment despite his valid ticket. That single act of humiliation awakened Gandhi’s resolve to fight injustice through nonviolent resistance. The railway official, whose name history scarcely remembers, inadvertently triggered a movement that later inspired millions across the world. A seemingly minor incident became a spark that lit the flame of civil resistance.

The life of Abraham Lincoln also demonstrates the influence of humble figures. Lincoln’s early education came largely from borrowed books and the encouragement of local teachers and neighbors. These individuals were not famous intellectuals or political leaders; they were ordinary people who believed in a young boy’s curiosity. Yet their encouragement helped shape the mind of a man who would later guide the United States through its most difficult crisis, the American Civil War.

Similarly, the success of great leaders often rests on the invisible work of countless others. During the struggle for India’s independence, figures like Jawaharlal Nehru or Subhas Chandra Bose commanded global attention, but the movement itself survived because of thousands of unnamed volunteers—villagers who sheltered activists, workers who organized protests, printers who secretly circulated pamphlets, and ordinary citizens who risked imprisonment. Without these “small” contributors, the freedom movement would have collapsed.

History also shows how people considered insignificant at a particular moment can transform the future. When Rosa Parks refused to surrender her bus seat in Montgomery, Alabama, in 1955, she appeared to be just one ordinary passenger among many. Yet her quiet act of defiance ignited the Montgomery Bus Boycott, which became a turning point in the American civil rights movement. Through her courage, she inspired leaders like Martin Luther King Jr. and millions of others to challenge systemic injustice.

Even in scientific progress, small acts of mentorship or recognition often determine whether talent blossoms or withers. The young Albert Einstein struggled to find academic employment after graduating from university. Eventually, he found work as a patent clerk in Bern. The job itself seemed mundane, but it gave him the mental freedom to think deeply about physics. In 1905, while working there, Einstein published the revolutionary papers that would reshape modern science, including the formulation of the Theory of Relativity. One might say that the humble administrative job—and the supervisors who allowed him the intellectual freedom to think—were part of the cosmic arrangement that allowed genius to flourish.

These examples illustrate a profound philosophical truth: the web of life is interdependent. Each individual, no matter how ordinary they appear, may carry a piece of the larger puzzle. The universe unfolds not only through the decisions of kings and presidents but also through the unnoticed gestures of teachers, clerks, friends, strangers, and even critics.

This perspective has deep roots in spiritual traditions. Many philosophies hold that every soul is an expression of a universal consciousness. The ancient Indian idea of the Atman suggests that the same divine essence resides within every living being. If this is true, then each person we meet becomes a messenger or instrument of the larger cosmic intelligence. Sometimes they guide us, sometimes they challenge us, and sometimes they obstruct us—yet each role contributes to our growth.

In our personal lives, we can easily recall individuals who changed our direction in subtle ways: a teacher who encouraged us when we doubted ourselves, a colleague who introduced us to a new opportunity, or even a critic whose harsh words pushed us to improve. These people may never realize the depth of their influence. Yet their actions become turning points in our life’s narrative.

The opposite is also true. When we dismiss or disrespect people because they appear unimportant, we may unknowingly close doors that destiny intended to open. History contains many stories of powerful individuals who underestimated others and paid the price for their arrogance. Humility, therefore, is not merely a moral virtue; it is also practical wisdom.

Every person we encounter may hold a key—perhaps to knowledge, opportunity, protection, or transformation. The stranger who offers timely advice, the junior colleague who provides crucial information, the worker who quietly maintains a system that everyone depends on—each may exercise a hidden influence over our journey.

Recognizing the “gods of small things” encourages us to cultivate respect for all human beings. It reminds us that greatness does not belong exclusively to those who appear powerful. Often, the true architects of destiny are those whose contributions are woven quietly into the background of events.

This realization also deepens our understanding of the cosmic plan. Life is not simply a sequence of random encounters; it is a complex network of interactions where every soul plays a role in the evolution of others. Just as cells within a body cooperate to sustain life, human beings cooperate—consciously or unconsciously—to sustain the progress of civilization and the spiritual evolution of humanity.

When we adopt this perspective, our attitude toward people changes. Instead of seeing individuals as obstacles or tools, we begin to see them as participants in a shared journey. The office assistant, the driver, the teacher, the rival, the friend—all may become channels through which life teaches us lessons.

Ultimately, the concept of the “god of small things” invites us to live with humility and gratitude. It teaches us that every interaction carries meaning and that every soul deserves dignity. The universe often chooses the most ordinary instruments to accomplish extraordinary purposes.

If we remember that every person embodies a fragment of the same cosmic consciousness, we will naturally treat others with respect and kindness. We will realize that the person standing quietly beside us today may become the turning point of our tomorrow.

In that sense, the divine does not reside only in distant heavens or monumental events. It lives in the countless human beings who cross our path—each carrying a spark of the same universal intelligence, each playing a role in the mysterious unfolding of our lives. These are the true gods of small things.

 

 The Purpose Behind Cosmic Drama

One existential question often asked by all and sundry relates to the purpose behind God’s creation. After all, why is it that God created this world full of suffering and pain? Is there any grand design or purpose behind it all? While there is no readymade answer to such questions, the spiritual thinkers and philosophers have all been surmising about them for quite some time now. The truth is we can only hazard some plausible explanations and justifications about the same based on some experiential and logical conclusions.

To begin with, let’s imagine the existence of an all-powerful God sitting alone and idle with not much to do, none to interact with, none to talk to or none to preside over. Even if God had the idea of everything in the world, animate and inanimate, the concept of a tree or a mountain, the concept of a human being or a bird would have no meaning, unless and until they are all materialized and brought into actual existence. The conceptions of various emotions and feelings would similarly have no meaning unless and until they are created and brought into actual play through a live drama to find out and appreciate their true nature and nuances.

So, lo and behold, the Almighty, either to kill his boredom, to examine the potency of His own power and creativity, to keep examining and testing His own creativity and to further stretch the limits of His supremacy, He created the humongous cosmos, the multiverses and divided Himself into infinite souls by creation of infinite variety of living beings including humans to express different aspects of His intelligence and capability in the every unfolding drama that would play out under His supervision.

So, God apparently created this world not only to keep Himself engaged and entertained, but also to groom capable associate souls to keep expanding His intelligence and to keep stretching the limits of His creativity. The God, like a child, loves to play with the toy that He creates in the form of this ever-changing cosmic drama.

            Through the creation of ming-boggling variety in the infinite cosmos, God has given us choices to pick out the best to cultivate and nurture the same carefully according to the divine law of nature. The differences among the peoples of the world in terms of race, caste, language, religion etc should not create a division among us, but they actually give us the choice to nurture the same to the best of our ability as per our choices and liking without being at the loggerheads with each other.

Thus, we, being made in God’s image and endowed with divine qualities, can develop and improve all such elements of nature, physical and abstract, to nurture the best qualities and capacities to develop the ideal man and the ideal world. All the talented, gifted, successful and famous individuals actually have no independent existence of their own. The graveyard is a testimony to this truth. All these gifted and successful persons actually extend and expand divine authority. No soul can actually identify and recognize their own achievements and attainments of their previous lives.

We all are here to learn and evolve in the school of life in our upward spiritual journey and on the way, we improve, extend and expand God’s authority and creation. The only positive aspect of our sectoral success in life is the reinforcement of our natural tendencies which express themselves easily in the next life. For example, one, who was a good mathematician or musician in the previous life, may forget all her/his relations, mathematical formulae or musical notes, but s/he would have a felicity with mathematics or music in the next life. S/he would learn and progress faster in mathematics or music in the next life than those with different past-life tendencies. The latter shall reveal their talents or felicities in different fields as per their past-life experiences. The same thing happens with our behavioural tendencies as well. A good person in the past life shall be a good person in the next life.

So, a successful person in the past life usually have a headstart in their next life. Hence, it is up to us to learn faster, better and conscientiously for a better afterlife or next life. The normative consensus in the world point to this unilinear directive development of human civilization to bring out the best amongst us to bring about the God’s kingdom on earth or anywhere possible. The history of human civilization has been a history of a battle between good and evil, with good always being promoted to bring about and sustain a positive harmony in the world.

We came into this world through the will of the God. But He has given us the freedom to live according to our will. Although the force of our endless desires is strong, the potency of divine will in us is stronger. It is this divine will that goads us in our bid to keep on the path back to the Almighty. After all, God made this world not only as His hobby, but also because He wanted to make perfect souls that would evolve back to him. God has given us the freedom to be good or evil, as we might like to choose. He allows us even to deny God’s existence. However, the purpose of our life remains becoming good and perfect using our free will.

One can ask how do we know this that we should endeavour to become ‘good’ and not transform ourselves into wily and nasty individuals. This can be sensed by the fact that doing bad or evil does not generate happy hormones inside our body or create positive emotions. We feel so uncomfortable or churlish after doing something bad. But we feel so uplifted and elevated by doing something altruistic or good. We feel so happy and satisfied when someone appreciates our help or heaps praises upon us for our good acts.

But again, the catch here is, we must not be carried away by praise, appreciation or fame stemming from our good acts as the world still being so diverse and unequal, with different souls being at different levels of spiritual evolution that our acts carry different meanings to different people. And our good acts should be carried out not with an eye to rewards or for selfish interest, but  for the satisfaction and joy they bring about in the process. So, the good acts should be done without an eye to the rewards. The rewards of our good and positive actions are the satisfaction of our being able to perform such acts themselves.

It is said that when the source of joy is transient and non-permanent, the joy can’t last forever. Hence, the joy emerging from the praise or fame immediately turn into sadness if one’s joy becomes conditional upon them. The temporary nature of source of our joy makes the joy itself temporary. We should actually be aiming at imbibing eternal bliss and joy. We should be able to nurture and cultivate the habits of staying happy and joyful by being fixed in the carrying out the works of God. By trying to continue the soul-uplifting works, we could keep ourselves transfixed in the same joyful state of mind all the time.

Another question always being asked relates to the existence of suffering as an inalienable part of God’s cosmic drama. After all, why did God create suffering as part of His cosmic drama? The truth is God has never created suffering or pain in the world. Actually, it is we who have created pain and agony for ourselves by transgressing the divine norms, rules and laws. It is our unlimited and often unethical desires which create pain and suffering for us in this physical world. Don’t we keep engaged all the time in hoarding things beyond our needs, often at the expense of others, using unethical means.

God is said to have endowed each of our souls with an unlimited GB pen-drive where we can store as much learning and lessons as we want. But instead of doing so, we keep engaged in creating and amassing things beyond our needs in this physical world, something that we would leave behind. And we do this while neglecting, starving, impoverishing, depriving and retarding the upward evolution of our soul, something that would be there permanently with us. It is this attachment to things physical and banal that create suffering for the soul when he lives in this world. Because in the process of her stay in this world, the individual creates negative experiences and tendencies for the soul which make it unhappy and troubled. It is these negative tendencies and experiences that creates a hellish experience for the soul in the afterlife as well. Sufferings and miseries are, thus, a necessary disciplining tool to keep us on the straight and narrow, to goad us on the right path and to eventually ensure our union with the Almighty.

Mind you, a man who does not get along with others is the one who does not get along with himself. No wonder why such people see disharmony wherever they go. Such people remain ever so unhappy and disturbed. While harmony conserves our mental and spiritual energy; disharmony dissipates it. A pure heart is the result of pure thoughts and emotions. Our world inside us determines our happiness outside. If we have positive thoughts and emotions, if our consciousness is peaceful and contented, the same will reflect itself in our day-to-day life. So, one who is an angel at home, shall be an angel in his social interactions also.

Similarly, it is our soul vibrations that decide our fate in the afterlife. Depending upon the positivity or negativity of the vibrations we carry, the fate of our afterlife is decided. Those with positive vibrations have heavenly experiences while those with negative vibrations and tendencies experience a hell after their death. With a positive cerebral-mental framework, we can definitely ensure the heaven for ourselves in the life after death. The more positive and powerful these vibrations become gradually, the faster we can get out of the cycle of life and death.

Human brains are generally larger than that of the animals, with the exceptions of those of elephants and whales. Being more complex, a human brain contains the greatest capacity for complex thinking, discernment and discrimination. Thus, humans alone are capable of advanced level of abstract thinking and discrimination and consequently, of God-realization.

We need to learn to live simply and take life more easily, trying to fathom the purpose behind our existence and that of this world. The greatest sin is ignorance, not to know what life is all about. Once we know this larger purpose behind our existence, all our troubles and pain shall disappear. We can, thus, have the real happiness. Happiness lies in giving ourself time to think and to introspect. We need to be alone once in a while, to spend some time in silence every day on learning the right lessons and in meditative practices relating to God-realization.

We often squander our energy by carping and cribbing about others, trying to mould people the way we want them to be, the way it suits us. But that’s wrong. Making everyone in the same mould shall make the world monochromatic, with no variety in the world. As five fingers together make a grip or different colours make our life colourful. They all serve a purpose. Similarly, different people with different mindsets and thought patterns have a specific purpose in our life. So, we must not think much about reforming others. Our tendency or inclination to reform others or control other’s lives is the foremost reason for many of our woes and suffering in this life. This often creates a lot of heartburns on both sides and spoils our social relations with those who matter to us. Hence, we should find time to focus on reforming ourselves rather than those around us.

If we are able to reform ourselves, the world shall automatically reform and be a better place to live in. We should try to find and discover our individual rough edges and chisel them out as we go along the life’s journey. The greatest field of victory is our own home. If we are an angel at home, we can be an angel everywhere. If we know that all the living beings are inalienable parts of the same divine energy and consciousness, we shall know that we are all kindred souls. As such, there should be no conflict or differences among us. Most of our troubles and disturbances emanate from a wrong understanding of our world and because of the creation of artificial divisions in the society.

Every night in sleep, God takes all our troubles to show that we are not a mortal being; we are an immortal spirit, made in God’s image. Don’t we do things at will in our dreams without the mediation of any physical body. Often, we fly or go from one location to another thousands of miles away in a jiffy. This is God’s way to remind us of our capacities and capabilities as His children. God wants us to remember this truth and realization about our own hidden powers during our conscious state. If this happens, we would know not to blame anyone for all our troubles, to know that we could be the master of our own destiny and to not be bothered by the anomalies of our mundane life.

However, so long as we have a desire to dominate other people spiritually or materially, we will not find soul freedom or eternal bliss and happiness. In our passion and excitement to acquire and achieve mundane stuffs, we often dissipate too much of our energy which could otherwise be directed towards God realization. In fact, excitement means we are directing too much of our energy to a certain part of our body while starving other nerves of that life force. When we get angry, we send tremendous volts of energy into the brain and the heart. It is proven that disproportionate frisson of emotions such as anger and fear so overload the nerves that they often cause our body to malfunction, sometimes even stopping the heart and causing the death.

As untrained warriors are soon killed on the battlefield, so are the persons untrained in the art of preserving their inner peace are quickly riddled with the bullets of worry and restlessness in life. This happens because of our ignorance of the purpose behind the creation and our own existence. That’s why we need to eliminate our ignorance through deeper and regular meditation to know the will of the God. As the adept sages have suggested, we can enter heavenly astral and causal worlds and commune with God through the control over our breath. The divine love can’t be found in a social gathering, while we are disturbed or engaged with everyday mundane preoccupations.

The God can be discovered in silence and solitude through deep meditation. He who lives in the bodily temple without ever being affected by the changing sensory perceptions, remaining even-minded during pleasure and pain, becomes a true being among men. As we know, the image of the moon gets distorted in an agitated turbid water, but we see its clear image in still waters. Similarly, we can have a clear image of the Divine, if we can still and quieten our mind through deep meditative practices without getting disturbed by different things.

What’s surprising is that people these days have so much time to worry and suffer, but they have no time to meditate. If we don’t have time for God and spiritual practices, why should God have time for us? It is through meditation that we can find our way to the God. God is said to be always pursuing us with His boundless love. He never tires of keep supplying us with all our needs and granting our wishes all the time, without asking anything in return. The only thing God expects from us is our love and affection.

If we love Him deeply, we shall find Him. As His son, we have a right to ask for anything from Him. The magical power by which God transforms His infinite consciousness into finite dream images and gives them a dream reality is called Maya. God is always trying to pull man back to Him and Maya is also simultaneously trying to pull the man back to itself. There is a continuous tug of war between man’s spiritual quests and his attachment to Maya. Man is free to move towards either. Our continuous evolution means that we are going away from God and into the clutches of Maya.

Involution means going back to Him. However, going back to God by the involuntary process of nature is a very slow process. But the discriminating man can expedite it by his strong desire for liberation, by means of regular and disciplined meditative practices. When we try to contact God through such spiritual practices, intuitive perception of truth often guides us in everything we do. Right behind the darkness of our closed eyes are the wondrous forces and eternal reality of the universe.

When we watch a movie, we like an engaging movie with a lot of action rather than a dull movie. When we are finished with the movie, we know for sure that nobody was killed and nobody was suffering. Same is the case with our world which is nothing but a dream of the God. This has been very well described in the Bhagwad Gita. The same is the case with our dreams where we realize the magnificent power of our consciousness. If we know that all our sufferings and pain are nothing but myth associated with physical body and are an aid in our upward spiritual evolution, we shall not get perturbed. We, as eternal souls, are here only to learn our lessons and get back to our eternal home at the end of this learning cycle.

If our mind remains anchored in the God, we will never suffer. God is always holding our hand and guiding us on to the right path. While we see only a chapter, the God knows the entire story, the whole book. The perspective of a child is limited by the womb. He does not know and can’t imagine that there is or there can be a better life beyond the womb, under a loving mother. He does not realize that a loving mother is all around him. Similarly, we don’t realize that there is a beautiful world and a loving God beyond this painful physical world.

When we seek God, we don’t get Him; we only lose what is not Him. When we seek light, we don’t get it; we start losing the darkness and the light is all around us. Similarly, through good associations and good habits, we can find our way out of the darkness which brings us nothing but pain and suffering. Lord Krishna said in Bhagwad Gita, “Among thousands of men, perhaps one tries for spiritual attainment; and among the blessed true seekers that tries to reach me, perhaps one perceives me as I am”. The Lords knows what we think and if we love Him truly, He will reveal Himself to us. God expects nothing from us but our true love.

A true devotee is always awake in his infinite spiritual nature, and asleep in his material nature. A cow, grazing calmly, does not bother about its calf. But if we go near the calf, the cow comes to us immediately for its protection. Similarly, a true devotee may be outwardly busy with his work, but is always focused on God. All paths lead to God. Everything has come out of God and must go back to him. Don’t we feel hurt, if someone does not acknowledge our help or gifts. Similarly, God also feels hurt, if we don’t express our gratitude after receiving so much from him. God, if at all, is only begging for our love and wants us to remember Him. No work can be greater than finding him who created us. To find God, we must find sometime everyday to be with him alone. 

We must be willing to suffer to find God. Renunciation, sacrifices and penance are not an end, but means to an end. Devotion is one offering that tempts God. As we don’t check the seed’s fate after planting it, but allows it to grow. Similarly, we must not check for immediate outcomes of our spiritual practices. We should just keep tending to them.  But we must be extremely patient in our divine pursuits. We find it so difficult to meet a very important person. A VIP meets us only when he finds us worthy enough. Similarly, the master of the multiverses or God shall meet us only when we are good enough or deserving enough to meet Him. Life’s journey has a deep meaning to teach us the importance of seeking God.

When we shoot an arrow, it travels with its force until that force dissipates. We, too, were propelled from God and our desires are the force that keep us moving away from him. When our desires are exhausted and dissipated, we will be drawn back to God again by the power of his gravity. The dewdrop that separates itself from the lake and floats in isolation on the lotus leaf will be dried up unless it returns to the lake. Same is with our divinity.

This earth is a stage and the God is the stage manager. If everyone insisted on being kings and queens, an unfolding cosmic drama would be impossible. True happiness is possible only when one plays his part rightly and not otherwise. On the last day, God shears everyone of all possessions and titles. What we have acquired in our soul is all that we take with us. We should never be discouraged when our role is difficult.  When we are through with our acting, we will be received as a child of God.

Hence, our children should be taught the habit of sharing and caring; that money, success and prosperity should be shared with others as trustees. Those who share their good fortunes attract wealth and abundance wherever they go. He who is motivated by selfish desires neglects his assigned role in helping the drama of God’s creation.