The Journey Within

Acceptance & Duty When storms arise and battles roar, And fear comes knocking at the door, Hold firm, O heart, be calm, be wise, Let silent courage in you rise. Acceptance first — a river deep, That holds no grudge, that does not weep, It sees the world, yet makes no claim, It flows untouched by praise or blame. Yet duty calls with trumpet sound, Where right and wrong are sharply found, Not born of want, nor pride, nor greed, But rising pure — a sacred deed. The fool divides the two apart, But wisdom binds them at the heart; For true acceptance clears the way, That duty’s hand may not delay. So act, yet cling not to the fight, Stand tall, yet vanish from the sight; Thus Dharma walks, serene and free — In silent, fearless harmony. In the second chapter of the Bhagavad Geeta, Krishna continues to counsel Arjuna, urging him not to abandon his duty. Through a sequence of powerful arguments, We saw those in the last session. He clarifies why Arjuna must rise to the occasion, drawi...

The Many Voices Within There are chambers deep within my mind, Some bold, some weak, some far behind. One knows the truth, yet fears the path, One drowns in doubt, one burns in wrath.   A voice within says, “Stand and fight,” Another cries, “But this feels right…” A part seeks fame, another peace, And none of them, can find release.   But then He speaks — the Lord of light,  With love that cuts, through inner night.  Not one way, but a hundred streams,  He speaks to fears, to hopes, to dreams.   To one He says, “You are the soul,  Beyond all death — complete and whole.”  To one He says, “All life must end,  So grieve not, for your fallen friend.”   To duty’s call, He gives its place,  To honor, too, He shows its face.  And if the heart, still turns away,  He shows how shame, may darken the day.   It seems He shifts, from shore to shore —  But He is one, though He gives more.  For eve...

Not born, not bound, not made to fall, The Self stands silent, watching all. It does not burn, it cannot die, It does not weep, it does not cry. The sword may slash, the fire may blaze, But still it dwells in changeless ways. No age can wrinkle, time can't fade, What was not formed, cannot degrade. We wear these bodies, like old clothes, And shed them when the moment goes. Yet we remain—untouched, unseen, Beyond the play, beyond the screen. So grieve not, friend, for death or birth, For none can end the soul’s true worth. Begin the path, though far it seems— This truth will wake you from your dreams. In the heart of the second chapter of the Bhagavad Gita , Krishna gently yet powerfully peels away Arjuna’s confusion, fear, and sorrow—not by dismissing them, but by elevating his vision to a far deeper truth. We live under the spell of form—the body, the name, the story, the victory, the defeat. But Krishna declares: there is no real existence in what is transient, and ...

Beyond all joy, beyond all pain, There shines a light that will remain. Not born, not lost, it cannot die— It watches calmly, deep and high. The senses pull, the mind reacts, We chase illusions, bind with facts. But he who sees the show unfold, Stays rooted, silent, calm and bold. Let pleasure pass, let sorrow fade, Don't bow to likes the mind has made. Just stand within, both firm and free— A silent flame of clarity. In the heart of the Mahabharata war, amidst the clash of dharma and duty, Shri Krishna speaks to a bewildered Arjuna.  What He shares in Chapter 2 of the Bhagavad Gita is not just a philosophical standpoint, but a timeless strategy for navigating the most fundamental conflict of human life: the confusion between the eternal Self and the fleeting illusions of the world. After the initials, Shri Krishna started teaching Arjuna with these words. This sums up  न त्वेवाहं जातु नासं न त्वं नेमे जनाधिपाः । न चैव न भविष्यामः सर्वे वयमतः परम् ॥12॥ Never was th...

Look Within When sorrow struck his mighty heart, And made his bow and will depart, Arjuna stood in battle’s haze, With teary eyes and clouded gaze. He spoke of love, of kin and peace, Of how all war and wrath should cease. His words were noble, deep, profound— Yet feet of truth must touch the ground. Lord Krishna smiled, then sternly spoke, A jolt that through illusion broke. No soothing words, no soft embrace, But truth delivered face to face. “O warrior, where’s this grief from born? Is death so strange it makes you mourn? These bodies fall, the soul lives on, Like dusk must yield to rising dawn.” It seemed unkind, a harsh rebuke, A friend turned guide, now strict and stoic. But deeper still, the lesson lay— To turn his sight the inward way. For when we search the world outside, Our inner voice we tend to hide. We seek in crowds what dwells alone— The whisper of our truest tone. Arjuna’s thoughts, though draped in gold, Were not yet pure, were not yet bold. To tru...

The One Who Asked On Kurukshetra’s fateful ground,  where war cries filled the air, Where steel and silence both were crowned,  and fate was laid out bare, The warriors stood with hearts of flame,  with vengeance in their breath— Each eager for eternal fame,  and unafraid of death. Their banners soared, their chariots rolled,  their bows were drawn and tight, Each eye was set on wealth or pride,  each mind prepared to fight. Yet in that storm of wrath and roar,  one soul began to sway— A prince who saw what lay in store,  and slowly turned away. He saw not foes but fathers there,  not rivals—but his own, And felt a grief too sharp to bear,  that pierced him to the bone. “Why must we kill?” he softly cried,  “What honor lies in pain? I’d trade the earth and all its pride,  for peace that might remain.” His fingers slipped, his bow fell low,  his knees sank to the floor, While all around him longed for war —he sought a deepe...