Desist.

 We arrive with nothing and depart with nothing. Between those two moments, we gather names, possessions, relationships, achievements, and opinions. We spend much of our lives trying to shape how the world sees us, hoping to leave behind a lasting impression.

But perhaps even that should not concern us.

The impressions we leave behind do not belong to us. They live only in the minds of others, changing with time, memory, and circumstance. One generation remembers; the next forgets. Even the greatest monuments eventually become stories, and stories fade into silence.

What remains within our control is not our legacy, but our conduct. Not how we are remembered, but how we lived each passing moment—with honesty, compassion, courage, and dharma.

The desire to be remembered is natural, but the freedom lies in not being attached to remembrance. Live fully, do what is right, and leave the rest to time. The act must go on, with or without our names attached to it.

Poses.

Do Our Views Matter? 

We come into this world with nothing.

We leave with nothing.

Between those two moments, we spend a lifetime saying, "This is mine." We gather possessions, relationships, memories, opinions, dreams, and achievements, knowing that one day we must leave them all behind.

Before us, billions have lived.

They laughed, loved, feared, hoped, questioned, and formed opinions about life—many of the very same thoughts that pass through our minds today.

After us, billions more will do the same.

The great play of life continues. The stage remains. Only the actors change.

So, do our views matter?

Perhaps they do.

Not because they alter the course of the universe, but because they shape the way we live the brief role entrusted to us. Our thoughts become our choices. Our choices become our actions. Our actions touch other lives, often in ways we never see.

The world may not remember every opinion we held, but it will remember the kindness we showed, the truth we spoke, the courage we displayed, and the love we shared.

We arrive with empty hands.

We depart with empty hands.

Yet what we place in the hearts of others may remain long after our hands are gone.

 

Reflections

 Life from a Bird's-Eye View 

Imagine sitting in an aircraft, looking down at the city below.

From that height, every road seems connected. Every neighbourhood is unique. Every house has its own story. Thousands of people are living thousands of different lives—all at the same moment.

Now imagine viewing the same city from a satellite. You can zoom in. Suddenly, every face becomes clear. Every decision, every struggle, every smile, every tear, every victory, every disappointment comes into focus.

Life is much like that.

We do not have to experience everything ourselves. We learn by observing others. Every life is a living lesson waiting to be understood.

A patient in a hospital teaches us the value of health.

An athlete standing on the victory podium reminds us that success is built on discipline, sacrifice, and perseverance.

A student preparing late into the night shows us the power of dedication.

An artist on stage reveals the beauty that years of unseen practice can create.

A farmer in the field teaches patience.

A mother caring for her child teaches unconditional love.

An elderly person sitting quietly teaches the value of time.

Every person we meet is writing a chapter in the great book of life. If we observe carefully, their experiences become our teachers. Their choices reveal consequences. Their journeys offer wisdom.

Perhaps that is why God allows us to witness so many different lives. He invites us to look beyond ourselves—to see the world from a higher perspective, like a bird soaring above the landscape.

When we do, we realise that life is not merely about living our own story. It is also about learning from the stories unfolding all around us.

Perhaps.

 Perhaps that is why life is so precious.

The stage is already prepared. We did not choose our birth, our parents, or many of the circumstances that surround us. Yet, within that stage, God has entrusted us with the freedom to choose our thoughts, our words, our actions, and our response to every situation.

A puppet follows strings. A human being follows conscience.

Every day is another scene in the great drama of life. We may never know how many scenes remain, but we do know this: each one is an opportunity to choose kindness over anger, faith over fear, gratitude over complaint, and love over indifference.

Life is not measured by the number of years we live, but by the wisdom with which we live them.

Perhaps the greatest wonder is not that God created the world, but that He created us with the freedom to choose how we journey through it.

Reflection.

"The Divine Puppeteer?"

We sit spellbound as wooden puppets dance, laugh, cry, and fight. We know someone behind the curtain controls every movement. The strings are hidden, but the puppeteer is always present.

Is life like that? Is God the Divine Puppeteer?

At first, it seems so. We are born into families we did not choose, in countries we did not select, with talents, limitations, opportunities, and challenges that come to us unasked. Much of life's stage is already set.

Yet there is one profound difference. A puppet has no choice. We do.

God may place us on the stage of life, but He does not pull every string. Instead, He gives us something infinitely precious—free will. Every relationship becomes an opportunity to love or to hate. Every difficulty becomes an opportunity to despair or to persevere. Every success becomes an opportunity for humility or pride.

Perhaps God watches us much as a loving parent watches a child at play—not to control every move, but to see how the child thinks, chooses, grows, and learns. The joy is not in manipulation but in witnessing character unfold.

Life, then, is not a puppet show. It is a sacred trust. The circumstances may not always be ours to choose, but our response always is.

And perhaps that is the greatest wonder of all—that the Creator of the universe grants His creation the dignity of choice.

Wonder stuck.

 Infinite Expressions of Creation 

Every creation of God can be seen in countless ways. The same sky that blazes under the summer sun becomes gentle at dawn, dramatic with rain clouds, radiant at sunset, and majestic beneath a canopy of stars. One person finds joy in the rain, another longs for sunshine. The same creation evokes different feelings, different experiences, and different purposes.

So it is with every aspect of nature. Mountains inspire adventure in some and devotion in others. Rivers provide water, sustain life, inspire poetry, and shape civilizations. Trees offer shade, fruit, medicine, shelter, and beauty. Every creation serves many purposes, revealing new dimensions to those who observe with wonder.

The human body itself is a marvel beyond imagination. Every heartbeat, every breath, every nerve, every cell functions with astonishing precision. The bodies of birds, animals, insects, and marine life display an intelligence and design that continue to amaze scientists. However brilliant mankind may become, no one has ever created a living body that can equal the perfection, adaptability, and self-sustaining nature of God's creation.

Then there are human faces. Billions have lived on this earth, yet no two faces are exactly alike. Every fingerprint is unique. Every voice has its own identity. Such infinite variety arising from the same Creator is itself a miracle.

Every day, new discoveries reveal dimensions of creation that were previously unknown. What we call inventions are often not the creation of something entirely new, but the discovery and application of laws, materials, and principles that already existed within God's universe. Man invents by understanding; God creates by bringing into existence.

The more we observe creation, the more we realise that it is inexhaustible. Every sunrise is familiar, yet never identical. Every season returns, yet brings something new. Every flower blooms according to its nature, yet no two are precisely the same.

Creation is an endless revelation of divine wisdom. The more we learn, the more we discover how much remains beyond our understanding. Wonder, therefore, is not the beginning of knowledge alone—it is also the beginning of gratitude.

Play learning.

 When Play Creates Livelihood.

Children do not always know when they are learning. To them, it is simply play. Yet, the games and activities that fill their tiny hands often shape the adults they become.

A few years ago, while visiting the United States, I watched children in a daycare centre immersed in art and craft. They were weaving colourful plastic strips similar to those used for making baskets, creating decorative items, working with shells, beads, paper, and other simple materials. It was fascinating to see that these were not merely classroom activities to keep children occupied. They were learning skills that people around the world use to earn a livelihood.

It made me reflect on our own approach to early childhood education. Much of it revolves around alphabet recognition, numbers, block stacking, and identifying shapes and colours. These are undoubtedly important, but creativity that produces something tangible often receives less attention.

Art is much more than painting a picture. It teaches patience, concentration, coordination, imagination, and problem-solving. More importantly, it nurtures confidence. A child who can create something with his or her own hands discovers the joy of transforming an idea into reality.

Our own traditions understood this well. Children once grew up watching elders weave baskets, make flower garlands, stitch clothes, mould clay, create rangoli, embroider fabrics, carve wood, and craft toys. Learning happened naturally at home. These skills not only preserved culture but also became sources of income for countless families.

In today's rapidly changing world, where technology is reshaping careers, creative skills are becoming even more valuable. Handmade products, sustainable crafts, and artistic entrepreneurship continue to provide opportunities across the globe.

Perhaps we should look at play differently. Not every game needs to end when childhood ends. Some games become passions. Some passions become professions. And some simple crafts learned with tiny fingers one day become the hands that support a family.

When we encourage children to create, we are not merely keeping them busy. We are planting seeds of imagination, dignity, self-reliance, and possibility.

Sometimes, play becomes purpose. Sometimes, purpose becomes livelihood.

HRVS

 Haridas sampradaya and

The Radha Vallabh Sampradaya is distinctive among Vaishnava traditions in that many of its followers, especially in the traditional Vrindavan lineage, do not observe the Ekādaśī fast in the customary Vaishnava way. 

The reasoning given within the tradition is theological rather than a rejection of Ekādaśī itself. Their emphasis is on prema-bhakti (the path of divine love for Śrī Rādhā and Śrī Rādhāvallabha). They hold that loving service (sevā) to the Divine Couple takes precedence over ritual austerities such as fasting. Thus, if fasting were to interfere with offering food to the Lord or with devotional service, they give priority to loving service. 

This is quite different from traditions such as:

Śrī Vaiṣṇavism, where Ekādaśī is widely observed, though the level of fasting varies.

Gaudiya Vaishnavism (including ISKCON), where avoiding grains on Ekādaśī is strongly emphasized.

Pushtimarg, which also has its own distinctive Ekādaśī practices. 

One of the beautiful aspects of Sanātana Dharma is that different sampradāyas may emphasize different disciplines while sharing devotion to the same Supreme Lord. One tradition may stress vrata, another sevā, another nāma-saṅkīrtana, yet all seek union with the Divine through their respective paths.

So, haridasas and  Radha Vallabh Sampradaya does not generally observe the Ekādaśī vrata in the usual Vaishnava manner, that is a recognized feature of that tradition, rooted in its own understanding of loving devotion rather than in disregard for Ekādaśī.