find your bliss

Let me begin with an old story.   A tiger cub was separated from its family and was found by a flock of sheep. It grew up among them. It ate what the sheep ate. It moved the way they moved. It made the sounds they made. Nobody had to convince it of anything; it simply took on the image it saw reflected all around it, and it lived its whole life accordingly.   One day, when it had grown, it came across a family of tigers. They recognised their own. They pulled him aside and tried to tell him: you are not a sheep, you are a tiger, you are one of us. He could not take it in.   So they took him to a lake and asked him to look at his own reflection. The moment he saw the distance between what he had believed himself to be and what he actually was, he roared.   Nothing about the tiger had changed that day. His strength was always there, unused. What changed was the image.   And that is the whole point: what we see of ourselves influences how we behave, and the qualities we manifest are deeply connected to the self-image we carry.   Where Most of Us Begin Most of us begin our journey of self-discovery with a very static version of ourselves—a version that is full of flaws and failures, lacking in character or ability. A version where, whatever we attempt, we somehow end up failing.   When we carry such a negative self-image, it is very likely that the transformational programme or spiritual path we take up will struggle to create lasting change. Not necessarily because the method is wrong, but because for any transformation to happen, there has to be a certain fluidity in the way we hold our own self-image.   We also need to understand that we have immense potential. Anything that we set as a meaningful and rightful goal, we have the ability to move towards—perhaps only by an inch at first, but the ability is there.   So, the starting point of any self-transformation work is creating flexibility in the mind, where we are no longer bound by a rigid picture of who we are. The self-image has to change.   We have to begin thinking of ourselves in a more positive and adaptable way: that we are open to learning, open to change, capable of growth, and willing to discover possibilities within ourselves that we may not have recognised before.   If we can make that transition from a rigid, negative self-image to a positive and dynamic one, our ability to work towards the things we set for ourselves can change significantly.   The Verdicts We Keep Repeating Often, a negative self-image is not simply a vague feeling. It takes the form of a permanent judgement we have given ourselves about our appearance, our abilities, our character or the way we relate to the world.   Some people believe that they are unattractive. Some believe that they do not have a strong character. Others believe that they are incapable, unsuccessful or simply not good enough. These are not always passing thoughts.   They can become verdicts—repeated so many times that we eventually stop questioning them. And a belief held that rigidly can become a significant barrier to change. Not necessarily because it is true, but because we have stopped treating it as something that can change. The moment we begin to question these conclusions, we create space for another possibility. Perhaps I can learn.   Perhaps I can change. Perhaps I can become something I have never imagined myself to be. That possibility is where transformation begins.   When Belief Shapes Our Experience Our expectations, beliefs and emotional states can influence the way we experience our bodies and respond to different situations.   Two people can encounter similar circumstances and experience them very differently because of the beliefs and expectations they bring with them. This is one reason why our inner world deserves attention when we speak about transformation.   What we believe about ourselves influences how we approach challenges, how we respond to failure, how we relate to others and how willing we are to attempt something new.   Older traditions have long emphasised the relationship between the inner and outer dimensions of life. Modern research continues to explore how expectations, perception and psychological states interact with physical experience.   The important insight is not that our thoughts can magically control everything that happens to us.   Rather, it is that the way we understand ourselves can profoundly influence the way we live.   What we believe about ourselves, and what we repeatedly feel about ourselves, can shape our behaviour, our relationships and the possibilities we are willing to pursue.   We Usually Start From the Outside What happens instead is that we often begin with external steps. We start following a process, a discipline or a routine without changing the internal paradigm through which we see ourselves.   We may change our habits, our appearance, our work or our daily routine, but continue to carry the same internal image. Yet lasting transformation requires us to look deeper.   Our external world is often influenced by our inner world. If we want to create meaningful external change, we also need to examine what is happening within. The self-image has to shift.   Our work, our appearance, the way we speak and the way we relate to others can all be influenced by the way we perceive ourselves. This does not mean that everything outside us is simply a reflection of our thoughts. Life is far more complex than that.   But it does mean that the image we hold of ourselves can influence the way we engage with the world.   What Yoga Points To To me, this is one of the fundamental understandings of yoga: that there is immense potential within us and that we are not as limited as the identities we often create for ourselves. The only thing required to begin is a belief—or perhaps an understanding. And I know that "belief" is a word that can be debated.   But once we actually begin the process of yoga, it can move beyond belief.   A realization can begin to emerge: I am not merely this body and mind. I am that which is aware of this body and mind.   This shift in identification is fundamental. As long as our identity is completely tied to the body, the mind and the beliefs we have accumulated, our sense of possibility can remain limited by them.   But when we begin to recognise the awareness behind our thoughts, emotions and experiences, we create a different relationship with ourselves. We begin to see that a thought is something we experience—not necessarily something we have to become.   A belief is something we carry—not necessarily something we have to remain bound by. An identity is something we can examine—not necessarily something that must remain fixed forever.   And once we begin living with this sense of inner fluidity, we create greater space for change. We can alter the way we see ourselves. We can alter the self-image we have been carrying.   And as the self-image changes, the way we engage with our physical, emotional and external lives can begin to change as well.   Transformation Begins With How We See Ourselves Self-transformation, then, begins not simply with changing what we do, but with examining who we believe ourselves to be .   The tiger did not become a tiger when he looked into the lake. He discovered what had always been there.   In the same way, our journey may not always be about creating something completely new. Sometimes, it is about removing the rigid images and limitations that have prevented us from recognising our own possibilities.   When our self-image becomes more fluid, our possibilities become more expansive. And when we begin to see ourselves differently, we create the space to live differently.   Perhaps the first step towards transformation is not asking, "How do I change myself?" but asking, "Who have I believed myself to be?"   The answer to that question can become the beginning of a very different journey.

Ganesh Chaturthi is one of the most deeply cherished and auspicious festivals celebrated by millions of Indians, both in India and across the world. Traditionally observed during the latter part of the monsoon, the festival marks the birth of Ganesha , the beloved son of Shiva and Parvati.   For many, Ganesh Chaturthi is a celebration filled with devotion, rituals, music, community, and joy. But beyond the mythology and festivities lies a profound yogic insight—one that speaks about form, devotion, surrender, ego and ultimately, freedom .   The Story of Ganesha's Birth According to Hindu mythology, Ganesha was born to Parvati as a young boy. One day, while Parvati was bathing, she asked Ganesha to guard the entrance and not allow anyone to enter. When Shiva arrived, Ganesha did not recognize him and stopped him from entering.   A confrontation followed, and in his anger, Shiva cut off Ganesha's head. When Parvati emerged and saw what had happened, she was devastated. As a mother, she demanded that her son be brought back to life. Shiva then instructed his attendants to bring the head of the first living being they encountered. They returned with the head of an elephant. Shiva placed the elephant's head onto Ganesha's body, and Ganesha was brought back to life. This is the familiar mythological story of the birth of Ganesha. But Ganesh Chaturthi can also be understood through another lens—the yogic perspective .   The Deity We Create, Worship, and Eventually Release Every year, we create a form of Ganesha. We give that form our love. We worship it. We offer prayers, devotion, and reverence to it. We develop a relationship with the Divine through that form. And then comes Visarjan .   The very form that we created and worshipped with so much love is eventually immersed in flowing water and allowed to dissolve. At first glance, this may seem like the end of the celebration. But from a yogic perspective, it carries a much deeper meaning.   We create the form. We establish a relationship with the Divine through the form. We pour our devotion into the form. And finally, we learn to let go of the form.   The form disappears. The formless does not. The idol may dissolve, but the devotion does not disappear. The relationship with the Divine does not disappear.   What remains is something deeper than the physical form. The formless can emerge through the form.   This is one of the most beautiful insights that Ganesh Chaturthi offers us.   Why Do We Need a Form to Experience the Divine? For most people, relating to something completely formless is not easy.   The human mind naturally looks for something it can see, understand, relate to, and love. This idea is also reflected in the Bhagavad Gita , where Arjuna asks Krishna about devotion to the formless versus devotion to a manifested form of the Divine.   Krishna explains that for an embodied human being, devotion to the unmanifest and formless can be difficult. Beginning with a form can therefore become a natural and accessible entry point into the path of Bhakti .   The form gives the mind something to focus on. Something to love.   Something to surrender to. And Ganesha becomes a beautiful representation through which that relationship with the Divine can begin.   The Deeper Lesson: Learning to Let Go of Form But there is another lesson here—perhaps one of the most important lessons for a yogi. Eventually, we have to learn to loosen our attachment to all forms .   Not only the form of the deity. But also our own form.   We become attached to our: Body Appearance Stature Achievements Social image Identity Opinions Roles Ego   We begin to believe: “This is who I am.” But the yogic journey invites us to look beyond these changing forms. Our body changes. Our circumstances change. Our identities change. Our achievements come and go.   Even the image we have of ourselves continues to evolve. The form is temporary. And learning to recognize this is an essential part of inner freedom.   Celebrate the Form, But Don't Become Attached to It The yogic teaching is not that we should reject form. Quite the opposite. We can celebrate the form. We can love the form. We can worship the form. We can experience devotion through the form.   But we must also learn to let go of our attachment to the form . This distinction is important. The problem is not having a body, an identity, a role, or an achievement. The problem begins when we become completely identified with them.   Ganesh Chaturthi reminds us that we can love something deeply and still have the wisdom to let it go. Just as the Ganesha idol eventually returns to the elements, everything in the material world is subject to change.   Why Do We Invoke Ganesha Before Auspicious Beginnings? There is a reason Ganesha is traditionally invoked before beginning something important. Whether it is a marriage, a new venture, a new project, or another significant chapter of life, Ganesha Puja is often performed at the beginning.   Ganesha is traditionally associated with the removal of obstacles and auspicious beginnings. But from a yogic perspective, perhaps the deeper significance lies in the state of mind with which we begin .   A ritual of invocation gives us an opportunity to pause. To become present. To establish an intention. To put aside our personal expectations.   And to acknowledge that we are not entirely in control of the outcome. That shift in perspective can change the way we approach the action itself. Beginning Without Ego: The Wisdom of Karma Yoga   This connects beautifully with the yogic principle of Karma Yoga. In Karma Yoga, action is not abandoned. We continue to act, work, and make a sincere effort. But we begin to loosen our attachment to the idea: “I am the doer.”   Instead of placing the entire emphasis on personal achievement and ownership, we begin to see ourselves as an instrument of the Divine . We act. We make the effort. We take responsibility for our actions. But we gradually release the ego associated with doership and the expectation of a particular outcome.   Perhaps this is one of the deeper intentions behind invoking Ganesha before beginning something significant: Let me begin without ego. Let me begin with the right intention. Let me be present. Let me become an instrument. And when an action begins from that state, it naturally carries a different quality.   From Form to Formless Perhaps this is why Ganesh Chaturthi holds such deep significance for a yogi. The festival gives us a living reminder of a profound inner journey: From form to formless. From ego to surrender. From attachment to freedom.   We create the form. We worship the form. We love the form. We pour our devotion into the form. And then, we let the form go.   But what remains? The devotion. And ultimately: The Divine.   What Ganesh Chaturthi Can Teach Every Yogi Ganesh Chaturthi invites us to reflect on some deeply personal questions: Can I love without becoming attached? Can I act without being consumed by the ego of doership? Can I celebrate my identity without believing that it completely defines me? Can I surrender what I cannot control? Can I see the changing forms of life while remaining connected to what is unchanging within?   These are not merely philosophical questions. They are part of the yogic journey.   The practice of yoga is ultimately not only about the body. It is about understanding the mind, loosening our attachments, and moving towards greater freedom. And Ganesh Chaturthi gives us a beautiful reminder of this journey.   The Form Is Temporary. The Divine Remains. The Ganesha idol is created. It is loved. It is worshipped. And eventually, it dissolves into water. Yet the devotion remains. The Divine remains. The experience remains within us.   Perhaps that is the deepest message of Ganesh Chaturthi: We can love the form, celebrate the form, and worship the form—while remembering that the form is not the final destination. The journey is from the form to the formless. From identification to awareness. From ego to surrender. From attachment to freedom.   May Ganesha remove not only the obstacles outside us, but also the obstacles within us. May we learn to loosen our attachment to form, ego, and the sense of doership. And may we discover the formless presence that was always there.   Happy Ganesh Chaturthi.

You cannot learn life simply by reading its instruction manual.   And yet, most of us spend a great deal of our lives searching for that manual. We read books looking for the right strategy, the right way to live, the right goals to pursue, and the right habits to cultivate.   We listen to podcasts, attend courses, seek advice, follow philosophies, and try to discover the secret formula for a good life.   But life doesn't really work that way. Because life needs to be lived.   Learning Can Show You the Map, But You Must Walk the Road There is immense value in reading. There is wisdom in learning from the experiences of others. There is value in having mentors, teachers and gurus who can help us navigate roads that others have travelled before us. They can show us the map. They can warn us about the difficult turns. They can tell us where others have stumbled. But they cannot walk the road for us. At some point, we have to put the book down and start walking.   You Have to Step Onto the Field Think about any game you want to learn.   Can you become a great footballer simply by reading books about football?   Can you become a great musician by studying music theory without ever playing an instrument? Of course not.   At some point, you have to step onto the field. You have to play.   You have to make mistakes. You have to lose a few games. You have to discover what works for you. You have to develop your own rhythm, your own instincts, and your own way of playing. Life is no different.   A teacher can prepare you for the game. A guru can illuminate the path. A mentor can share the lessons they have learned. But ultimately, you have to play your own game. And that is where life becomes truly interesting.   There Is No Perfect Template for Your Life Your game has never been played before. You are unique.   Your abilities are unique. Your circumstances are unique. Your relationships, experiences, choices, and challenges are unique.   And, if you believe in the language of karma, even the karmic baggage you carry is uniquely yours.   Existence does not believe in duplication. Which means there is no perfect template for your life. There may be principles. There may be wisdom. There may be maps created by those who came before us. But there is no shortcut that allows us to bypass our own journey. We have to walk our path.   Discover Yourself While You Play Perhaps that is the whole purpose of life. Not to discover the perfect strategy before we begin, but to discover ourselves and win the game.   We often think we need to understand everything before we take the first step. We want certainty before making a decision. We want guarantees before taking a risk. We want to know that the path we choose will lead to the right destination.   But life rarely offers such guarantees. Sometimes, we understand the path only after we begin walking it. Sometimes, the lesson comes through the mistake. Sometimes, clarity appears only after uncertainty. And sometimes, we discover who we are by simply participating in life.   Life Isn't Really About Winning or Losing Interestingly, this game is not really about winning or losing. Life is not a competition in which someone else has to lose for us to win.   If we live fully, if we participate completely, and have the courage to play without constantly worrying about the outcome, then perhaps we all win. The real failure is not losing. The real failure is standing on the sidelines because we were too afraid to play.   The Fear of Making the Wrong Choice We spend so much time worrying about making the wrong decision. Choosing the wrong career. Taking the wrong relationship. Making the wrong investment. Failing. Being judged. Disappointing someone. And in doing so, we sometimes forget the most fundamental responsibility we have: To live. To experience. To laugh. To love. To make mistakes. To fall. To get up. To discover. To create. To dance. To celebrate. Life cannot be experienced from the sidelines.   Life Is a Mystery to Be Lived Osho once expressed this beautifully: life is not a problem to be solved; it is a mystery to be lived.   Perhaps that is the shift we need to make. Stop treating life like an examination for which we must find all the correct answers. Stop looking for a perfect instruction manual. Stop waiting until we know enough to begin. Begin. Play. Experience.   And allow life itself to become the teacher.   Because the meaning of life is not hidden somewhere in a book. It is not a sentence waiting to be discovered.   The Meaning of Life Is Created Through Living The meaning of life is created through the way we live it. It is in the dance. It is in the joy. It is in the moments of connection. It is in the courage to experience the unknown. It is in the ability to be fully present to whatever life places in front of us.   We don't necessarily find meaning by standing outside life and analysing it. We find it by participating.   By loving. By creating. By connecting. By experiencing. By being present.   Life Is Inviting You to Dance Life is not asking us to solve the mystery. Life is inviting us to dance with it.   Perhaps, when we stop trying so hard to figure life out and simply begin to live it fully, we discover what we were searching for all along.   Bliss.   Final Thought You don't need to know every step before you begin. You don't need a perfect plan. You don't need to know exactly where the journey will take you. You simply need the courage to step onto the field.   The game is already being played. So play your own game. Live your own life. Walk your own path.   And let life itself teach you how to play.

The Kanwar Yatra: When I Finally Understood What Millions Were Really Seeking   Today is Sawan Shivratri — the final day of the Kanwar Yatra , when each kanwariya reaches the Shiva Linga of their choosing to pour the sacred water they have carried for days.   A happy Shivratri to everyone.   I grew up in Muzaffarnagar , a town that lies midway between Delhi and Haridwar. Every year during the holy month of Sawan, our roads are transformed into rivers of saffron. Thousands — sometimes millions — of Shiva devotees, known as Kanwariyas, walked toward Haridwar to collect sacred Ganga water, carrying it back to their villages and temples to offer it upon the Shiva Linga.   As a child, I watched this annual pilgrimage with curiosity. Why would people walk hundreds of kilometers carrying water? What compelled them to leave their homes, endure physical hardship, and devote days to what seemed like a repetitive ritual?   Like many who observe traditions from the outside, I misunderstood it. I assumed it was an inconvenience — a public nuisance that blocked roads and disrupted everyday life. I couldn't see the deeper purpose behind it. It took me many years, and my own journey into yoga and meditation, to understand what I was really witnessing.   Today, I no longer see the Kanwar Yatra as merely a religious procession. I see it as one of the world's largest collective meditations.   The Power of Walking Together Lord Shiva is revered as the Adiyogi — the first yogi, the source from whom the science of yoga emerged. Contemplative traditions have always recognized something we are still learning to appreciate: human consciousness is deeply shaped by collective energy.   When one person meditates, transformation happens within. When millions walk with the same intention, chant the same name, and move with the same devotion, something far greater unfolds. The individual begins to dissolve into the collective.  Walking itself becomes meditation, the chanting becomes breath awareness, and the exhaustion becomes surrender. The destination becomes secondary, and the journey becomes the practice.   A Festival of Seva What has always fascinated me is that the Kanwar Yatra is not only about the pilgrims — it transforms everyone it touches. Entire towns and villages along the route spontaneously organize food stalls, medical camps, resting places, and drinking-water facilities. Strangers serve strangers without expecting anything in return.   For those offering service, it becomes an opportunity to practice seva — selfless action. For those walking, every act of kindness becomes a reminder that they are being carried not just by their own determination, but by the goodwill of an entire community. It is extraordinary how a single spiritual movement opens millions of hearts at once.   Why Sawan Feels Different There is perhaps no better season for such a pilgrimage. The scorching heat of summer has passed. The monsoon rains cool the earth, the air turns fragrant, and nature itself seems renewed.   Walking through rain-soaked fields, listening to devotional chants echo across highways, and witnessing communities come alive with generosity creates an atmosphere that is difficult to explain unless one has lived it. The entire journey carries a sense of celebration — devotion expressed through movement.   Beyond Ritual From the outside, one may only see crowds, traffic, and inconvenience. From within, it is something entirely different. The sacred Ganga water is more than water; it becomes a symbol of purification. The act of carrying it over long distances is an act of discipline. Pouring it over the Shiva Linga is an offering — not merely of water, but of one's effort, ego, and devotion. The ritual is only the visible expression; the real transformation happens within the pilgrim.   A New Understanding Looking back, I realize how easy it is to judge traditions before we understand them. Many of our ancient practices were never designed merely as rituals. They were carefully crafted experiences that transformed the mind, body, and spirit while strengthening the bonds of community. The Kanwar Yatra is one such living tradition.   Today, when I see those endless streams of saffron-clad devotees, I no longer see chaos. I see courage. I see discipline. I see community. I see collective meditation unfolding across hundreds of kilometers.   And perhaps, one day, I hope to walk that path myself — not merely as an observer, but as a participant. Not because tradition demands it, but because I now understand what it truly offers.   Sometimes the greatest journeys are not about reaching a temple. They are about discovering the sacred space within ourselves.

Millions of people have embraced the Japanese concept of Ikigai to discover purpose in life. It encourages us to ask four simple yet profound questions: What do I love? What am I good at? What does the world need? What can I be paid for? These questions have inspired countless individuals to move beyond simply chasing success and begin searching for meaning—shifting the conversation from making a living to living a meaningful life. Yet, beneath all these questions lies a subtle assumption: that purpose is something we must actively create or discover for ourselves. The Bhagavad Gita begins from a very different place. Krishna does not first ask, “What should I do?” Instead, He asks a far more fundamental question: “Who am I?” This single change in perspective transforms the entire journey.   The Illusion of Modern Choice Today, we live in an age of unprecedented freedom. We can choose almost everything—our careers, where we live, the work we do, and the identity we project to the world. Ironically, the more choices we have, the more uncertain we seem to become. Endless possibilities have created endless confusion. Somewhere along the way, we stopped asking, “What is my duty?” and became consumed with asking, “What should I become?” Ikigai offers a beautiful response to this confusion by seeking alignment among passion, skills, contribution, and livelihood. The Bhagavad Gita, however, takes us one step further: our confusion exists because we have not understood our Svabhāva —our true, inherent nature.   1. From Personality to Nature: Svabhāva Everything in the Gita begins with nature—not personality, ambition, or social expectations. Krishna explains that every individual is born with a unique constitution. The three guṇas — Sattva , Rajas , and Tamas —express themselves differently in each of us, giving rise to distinct temperaments and inclinations ( Guṇa-Karma-Vibhāga ). Purpose cannot be standardized; it must arise from one’s own nature.   Two Different Inquiries Ikigai asks: “What do you love?” Krishna asks: “What are you made for?” The two questions are not always the same. A person may love music yet possess the gift of teaching. Another may enjoy business but be naturally drawn toward healing. Lasting fulfillment comes not merely from following preferences, but from expressing the deepest truth of who we are.   2. Deconstructing the Ego: The Silent Witness Krishna challenges an even deeper assumption: the belief that we already know who we are. Most of us identify with our body, profession, personality, successes, and the voice constantly speaking inside our head. The Gita gently dismantles each of these identities: Thoughts and emotions change constantly. The body and personality evolve over time. If everything is in flux, how can any of these be our true Self? The Gita invites us to look beyond appearances to discover the unchanging awareness—the silent witness—that observes every experience. Until we know this deeper Self, even our search for purpose remains incomplete.   3. Embracing Authentic Duty: Svadharma Once we begin to understand our true nature, Krishna introduces the idea of Svadharma —our natural duty. One of the most liberating teachings in the Gita declares that it is better to perform one’s own duty imperfectly than to perform someone else’s perfectly. Modern society encourages us to imitate successful people; the Gita encourages us to become authentic. Purpose is not about becoming the best version of someone else—it is about becoming the fullest expression of ourselves.   4. Action Without Anxiety: Karma Yoga Most modern books end on purpose once you find meaningful work. Krishna sees this as merely the beginning and poses a critical question: “Now that you know your work, can you perform it without anxiety? Can you act without seeking recognition, attached to success, or afraid of failure?” When action is performed in this spirit, work becomes Karma Yoga . A teacher continues teaching, a doctor continues healing, and an entrepreneur continues building—but the quality of action is transformed because attachment to the outcome dissolves. Work becomes a spiritual practice.   5. Dissolving the Doer Finally, Krishna asks the most profound question of all: Who is the one doing the work? If all actions arise through Prakriti (nature) and consciousness merely witnesses life, who is this “I” claiming ownership? The Ego says: “I am the doer.” Wisdom recognizes: Action flows through us as part of a much larger intelligence. At this point, work is no longer about self-expression—it becomes participation in the intelligence of life. Every action becomes an offering, every responsibility an opportunity for inner growth, and every moment a doorway to freedom.   The Living Gita Mandala: Summary This understanding inspires The Living Gita Mandala —a five-step journey that expands the modern search for purpose into a path of awakening: Self-Awareness: Asking, "Who am I?" beyond roles and thoughts. Svabhāva: Discovering your unique inherent nature and temperament. Svadharma: Expressing that nature through your authentic, natural duty. Karma Yoga: Performing your work without attachment to outcomes or anxiety over results. Liberation: Recognizing the silent Self beyond the illusion of doership.   Purpose as a Doorway Ikigai The Living Gita Mandala Helps us discover  meaningful work . Reveals  the One for whom all work becomes worship. Teaches us how to live a  fulfilling life . Transforms that life into a  path to freedom . Focuses on  constructing purpose . Focuses on  awakening to truth . Perhaps purpose is not the destination after all. Perhaps purpose is simply the doorway through which the journey of awakening begins.