Quiet strength

 This is a beautiful thought, and I think the central idea is very much worth developing

. Krishna did not merely “allow actions and consequences to reveal themselves”; He acted decisively for Dharma, advised Arjuna, confronted injustice, and sometimes intervened directly.

The deeper lesson is: we do not have to spend our lives proving ourselves to everyone.

When You Know You Stand With Dharma

Krishna did not spend His life trying to convince everyone that He was right.

He stood with Dharma. He spoke when His words were needed. He acted when action was necessary. And when words could no longer change hearts, He allowed actions and their consequences to speak for themselves.

There is a quiet strength in that.

When your intentions are clear and your conscience is at peace, you do not have to win every argument. You do not have to make everyone understand you. You do not have to answer every accusation or explain every decision.

Sometimes, the wisest thing is to step back.

Walk away when necessary.

Remain rooted in Dharma.

Keep your heart free of bitterness.

And let time reveal what words never could.

Not everyone will understand your journey while you are walking it.

But if you walk honestly, peacefully and with Dharma as your guide, you need not spend your life explaining your footsteps.

Sometimes, time becomes the witness.

Pochemuchka

 Pochemuchka — what a beautiful word! 

It is a Russian word, почемучка (pochemuchka), literally connected with почему? — “why?”

It describes a person, especially a child, who is constantly asking questions because they genuinely want to understand how and why things work.

And I think there is something wonderful about the word:

A Pochemuchka is not a troublesome child.

A Pochemuchka is a mind that has not stopped wondering.

Every “Why?” is really an invitation to discover something.

Perhaps this could become a lovely little piece for your blog:

The Pochemuchka in All of Us

The child who keeps asking “Why?” never really grows old. 

Science begins with Why?

Philosophy begins with Why?

Discovery begins with Why?

Even spirituality begins with the deepest Why?

We should not be too eager to silence the Pochemuchka within us.

Curiosity is one of the ways wonder stays alive.

Oubaitori.

 OUBAITORI — BLOOM IN YOUR OWN TIME 

There is a beautiful Japanese word: Oubaitori (桜梅桃李).

It is made from the names of four blossoms:

Sakura — cherry

Ume — plum

Momo — peach

Ri — Japanese plum

Each has its own colour, fragrance, shape and season of flowering. None tries to become another.

That is the wisdom of Oubaitori:

Everyone has a different journey.

Everyone grows at a different pace.

There is no need to compare.

A child may discover a talent early; another may find it much later. One person may achieve success at twenty-five, another at sixty. Some flowers bloom in spring, others wait for another season.

The flower does not look at its neighbour and say, “Why am I not blooming like you?”

It simply becomes what it was meant to become.

Perhaps that is a lesson worth remembering in a world that constantly tells us to compare ourselves with others.

Do not measure your life by someone else’s season.

Bloom when your time comes. 

Mothers are always there.

 The Mother Within Us — When Science Discovered That We Carry a Little of Her

There are some scientific discoveries that make us pause and look at ordinary life with new wonder.

One of them is microchimerism—the discovery that during pregnancy, cells can pass between mother and child.

Some cells from the baby enter the mother's body, while maternal cells can enter the developing baby. Remarkably, some of these cells can remain for many years, even decades, after birth.

So when we say, “A little bit of your mother is always with you,” it is not merely poetry.

At the microscopic level, it can actually be true.

A mother and child are not completely separated at birth. During pregnancy, their bodies have already exchanged living cells.

Scientists are still discovering what these cells do. Some may participate in immune responses and tissue repair, but much remains unknown.

And perhaps that is the most beautiful part.

Science can tell us how these cells travel.

But it cannot measure what a mother gives her child through her love, her touch, her sacrifice and her presence.

A mother gives us life—and science has discovered that, in a tiny cellular way, she may leave a little of herself behind as well.

Sometimes the smallest discoveries make the biggest things—like motherhood—even more wondrous.

Kopeshwar kidrapur.

Imagine Creating This Without a Computer

Look carefully at this photograph.

Look at the pillars.

Look at the stone lacework.

Look at the sculptures suspended high above.

Look at the perfect circular geometry.

And then look up—

there is the sky.

This is the magnificent Kopeshwar Temple at Khidrapur in Maharashtra, a remarkable achievement of medieval Indian temple architecture.

Its most extraordinary feature is the Swarga Mandapa — the “Hall of Heaven.”

A circular pavilion rises on 48 intricately carved stone pillars, with a great opening at its centre through which the sky is visible. At the centre below is the circular Rangashila. The arrangement is not merely beautiful; it creates a breathtaking experience of standing between earth and sky. 

And think about what that means.

There were no computers to produce the geometry.

No CAD drawings.

No laser levels.

No CNC machines.

No modern cranes.

No 3-D modelling.

There were human beings, stone, measuring knowledge, geometry, proportion, patience—and an extraordinary understanding of how to make massive pieces of stone work together.

The temple is associated with the Kolhapur branch of the Shilahara dynasty, with construction generally placed in the 12th century. Later Yadava intervention is recorded by an inscription dated 1213 CE. 

But perhaps the greatest wonder is not simply how old it is.

It is that the people who built it did not think of architecture merely as putting stones together.

They created an experience.

You enter a stone world—and suddenly, above your head, the heavens open.

The pillars seem to rise like a forest.

The carvings seem to breathe.

Light enters from the sky.

And the entire structure draws the human eye upward.

Stone becomes space.

Geometry becomes beauty.

Architecture becomes experience.

And that is why photographs like this make us pause and say:

How did they do it?

Perhaps the better question is:

What kind of civilisation produces craftsmen capable of imagining something like this—and then patiently carving that imagination into stone?

This is not merely ancient history.

It is a reminder of the astonishing intellectual, artistic and spiritual inheritance of India.

India did not need computers to imagine the impossible.

Her craftsmen carried the geometry in their minds and the devotion in their hands. 

Aditya Bhāskara

 There are many beautiful Hindu prayers to Sūrya, the Sun God, ranging from very short daily mantras to longer stotras. The most commonly used are:

 1. Sūrya Gāyatrī

ॐ भास्कराय विद्महे

महाद्युतिकराय धीमहि

तन्नः सूर्यः प्रचोदयात् ॥

Om Bhāskarāya Vidmahe

Mahādyutikarāya Dhīmahi

Tanno Sūryaḥ Prachodayāt.

We meditate upon Bhāskara, the radiant One.

May that Sun, the great source of light, illuminate and guide our intellect.

2. Āditya Hṛdayam

The celebrated prayer to Sūrya in the Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa. Sage Agastya teaches it to Rama on the battlefield before his final encounter with Ravana.

It begins:

ततो युद्धपरिश्रान्तं समरे चिन्तया स्थितम् ।

रावणं चाग्रतो दृष्ट्वा युद्धाय समुपस्थितम् ॥

Seeing Rama exhausted in battle and Ravana standing before him, ready for combat…

And then Agastya teaches Rama the Āditya Hṛdayam, praising Sūrya as the visible manifestation of the Divine, the source of life, energy and light.

This is perhaps the most profound traditional prayer to Sūrya.

3. Simple Sūrya Mantra

ॐ सूर्याय नमः ।

Om Sūryāya Namaḥ

Salutations to Sūrya.

You can chant it while offering water to the rising Sun.

4. The 12 Āditya Names

During Sūrya Namaskāra, the Sun is traditionally invoked through twelve names:

ॐ मित्राय नमः — Om Mitrāya Namaḥ

ॐ रवये नमः — Om Ravaye Namaḥ

ॐ सूर्याय नमः — Om Sūryāya Namaḥ

ॐ भानवे नमः — Om Bhānave Namaḥ

ॐ खगाय नमः — Om Khagāya Namaḥ

ॐ पूष्णे नमः — Om Pūṣṇe Namaḥ

ॐ हिरण्यगर्भाय नमः — Om Hiraṇyagarbhāya Namaḥ

ॐ मरीचये नमः — Om Marīcaye Namaḥ

ॐ आदित्याय नमः — Om Ādityāya Namaḥ

ॐ सवित्रे नमः — Om Savitre Namaḥ

ॐ अर्काय नमः — Om Arkāya Namaḥ

ॐ भास्कराय नमः — Om Bhāskarāya Namaḥ

5. A very familiar morning verse

आदिदेव नमस्तुभ्यं प्रसीद मम भास्कर ।

दिवाकर नमस्तुभ्यं प्रभाकर नमोऽस्तु ते ॥

Ādideva namastubhyaṁ, prasīda mama Bhāskara

Divākara namastubhyaṁ, Prabhākara namo'stu te.

O primordial Divine One, O Bhāskara, I bow to you.

O maker of the day, O giver of light, my salutations to you.

A simple, complete morning Sūrya worship sequence that can be followed after bathing, especially at sunrise. There are many regional and sampradāya variations; this is a traditional, devotional sequence rather than a claim that there is only one prescribed order.

 Sūrya Pūjā — A Morning Sequence

1. Begin with remembrance

Stand facing the rising Sun, preferably in the morning. Join your palms and remember the Divine as the source of light, life and consciousness.

ॐ सूर्याय नमः ।

Om Sūryāya Namaḥ.

Meaning:

Salutations to Sūrya, the radiant Sun God.

You may repeat this 3 times.

2. Offer Arghya to Sūrya

Take clean water in both hands or in a small vessel and slowly offer it toward the Sun, allowing the water to flow through your joined palms.

A traditional arghya mantra is:

ॐ आदित्याय नमः ।

Om Ādityāya Namaḥ.

Meaning:

Salutations to Āditya, the Divine Sun.

You may offer water three times, reciting the mantra each time.

Another beautiful longer prayer while offering water is:

आदिदेव नमस्तुभ्यं

प्रसीद मम भास्कर ।

दिवाकर नमस्तुभ्यं

प्रभाकर नमोऽस्तु ते ॥

Ādideva namastubhyaṁ

Prasīda mama Bhāskara

Divākara namastubhyaṁ

Prabhākara namo'stu te.

Meaning:

O Primordial Divine One, I bow to You.

O Bhāskara, be gracious to me.

O Maker of the day, I bow to You.

O Giver of light, my salutations to You.

3. The Twelve Names of Sūrya

These twelve names are traditionally associated with Sūrya Namaskāra. They are beautiful to recite while mentally contemplating the different aspects of the Sun.

1. Mitra — Friend of all

ॐ मित्राय नमः ।

Om Mitrāya Namaḥ.

Salutations to the Friend of all beings.

2. Ravi — The Radiant One

ॐ रवये नमः ।

Om Ravaye Namaḥ.

Salutations to the One who shines and illumines.

3. Sūrya — The Divine Sun

ॐ सूर्याय नमः ।

Om Sūryāya Namaḥ.

Salutations to the radiant Lord who dispels darkness.

4. Bhānu — The Shining One

ॐ भानवे नमः ।

Om Bhānave Namaḥ.

Salutations to the One who radiates light.

5. Khaga — The One who moves through the sky

ॐ खगाय नमः ।

Om Khagāya Namaḥ.

Salutations to the One who traverses the heavens.

6. Pūṣan — The Nourisher

ॐ पूष्णे नमः ।

Om Pūṣṇe Namaḥ.

Salutations to the One who nourishes and sustains all life.

7. Hiraṇyagarbha — The Golden Cosmic Womb

ॐ हिरण्यगर्भाय नमः ।

Om Hiraṇyagarbhāya Namaḥ.

Salutations to the Golden Cosmic Source from which creation arises.

8. Marīci — Lord of the Rays

ॐ मरीचये नमः ।

Om Marīcaye Namaḥ.

Salutations to the One whose rays spread throughout the universe.

9. Āditya — Son of Aditi

ॐ आदित्याय नमः ।

Om Ādityāya Namaḥ.

Salutations to Āditya, the radiant son of Aditi.

10. Savitṛ — The Divine Impeller

ॐ सवित्रे नमः ।

Om Savitre Namaḥ.

Salutations to Savitṛ, the divine source who impels and inspires all life.

11. Arka — The Radiant One

ॐ अर्काय नमः ।

Om Arkāya Namaḥ.

Salutations to the One who shines with splendour.

12. Bhāskara — The Giver of Light

ॐ भास्कराय नमः ।

Om Bhāskarāya Namaḥ.

Salutations to the One who produces and spreads light.

4. Sūrya Gāyatrī

After the twelve names, you may sit quietly and chant the Sūrya Gāyatrī:

ॐ भास्कराय विद्महे

महाद्युतिकराय धीमहि ।

तन्नः सूर्यः प्रचोदयात् ॥

Om Bhāskarāya Vidmahe

Mahādyutikarāya Dhīmahi

Tannaḥ Sūryaḥ Prachodayāt.

Meaning:

We contemplate Bhāskara, the radiant One.

We meditate upon the great illuminator.

May Sūrya inspire and illumine our intellect.

This is especially beautiful in the morning because the prayer moves from physical light to inner light.

5. A prayer for health, strength and well-being

आदित्यं प्राप्य यत् पापं

नश्यत्येव न संशयः ।

सर्वरोगप्रशमनं

आदित्यस्य नमोऽस्तु ते ॥

Ādityaṁ prāpya yat pāpaṁ

Naśyatyeva na saṁśayaḥ

Sarvaroga-praśamanaṁ

Ādityasya namo'stu te.

Meaning:

Whatever darkness and wrongdoing are overcome by approaching Āditya, so indeed it is said.

To the Divine Sun, who is invoked for the removal of affliction, I offer my salutations.

For a simple daily practice, you need not make the prayer elaborate. Devotion and regularity matter more than length.

6. Āditya Hṛdayam — the great Sūrya prayer

If you want a longer prayer, the Āditya Hṛdayam from the Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa is the most celebrated choice.

Sage Agastya teaches it to Śrī Rāma when Rama is exhausted before the decisive battle with Rāvaṇa.

The central teaching is wonderfully suited to morning worship: Sūrya is not merely the physical Sun, but a visible manifestation of the Divine presence that sustains the universe.

Its famous opening is:

ततो युद्धपरिश्रान्तं

समरे चिन्तया स्थितम् ।

रावणं चाग्रतो दृष्ट्वा

युद्धाय समुपस्थितम् ॥

Tato yuddha-pariśrāntaṁ

Samare cintayā sthitam

Rāvaṇaṁ cāgrato dṛṣṭvā

Yuddhāya samupasthitam.

Then, seeing Rama exhausted from battle, standing absorbed in thought, and seeing Ravana before him, ready for combat…

Agastya then says:

आदित्यहृदयं पुण्यं

सर्वशत्रुविनाशनम् ।

जयावहं जपेन्नित्यम्

अक्षयं परमं शिवम् ॥

Āditya-hṛdayaṁ puṇyaṁ

Sarva-śatru-vināśanam

Jayāvahaṁ japennityam

Akṣayaṁ paramaṁ śivam.

This sacred Āditya Hṛdayam destroys all that stands as an enemy; it brings victory, is eternal and supremely auspicious.

A very simple daily version

If you want something that can realistically become a daily morning habit, I would suggest:

1. Face the Sun

ॐ सूर्याय नमः ।

Om Sūryāya Namaḥ.

2. Offer water three times

ॐ आदित्याय नमः ।

Om Ādityāya Namaḥ.

3. Recite the 12 names

Mitrāya → Ravaye → Sūryāya → Bhānave → Khagāya → Pūṣṇe → Hiraṇyagarbhāya → Marīcaye → Ādityāya → Savitre → Arkāya → Bhāskarāya.

4. Chant Sūrya Gāyatrī once or three times.

5. End with:

ॐ भास्कराय नमः ।

Om Bhāskarāya Namaḥ.

Salutations to the Giver of Light.

And then pause for a few moments and simply look at the morning light with gratitude.

That last moment is important. Sūrya worship is not only asking the Sun for health or prosperity. It is an acknowledgement: “Without this light, I could not see, breathe, grow, think or live.” The physical Sun becomes a doorway to gratitude for the Divine source behind all life.

Antaryami.

 

The God Who Governs From Within

The Antaryāmin — one of the most precise descriptions of the Divine in the Upanishads

There are many ways in which the Upanishads speak about God.

Sometimes the Divine is described as infinite, unborn and beyond thought. Sometimes as pure consciousness, as Brahman, as the Self.

But in the Bṛhadāraṇyaka Upaniṣad, there is a passage that describes the Divine in an extraordinarily precise and almost scientific manner.

It asks us to look not upward, but within.

In the court of King Janaka at Mithila, the great sage Yājñavalkya is questioned by Uddālaka Āruṇi. Uddālaka is the same revered teacher who, in the Chāndogya Upaniṣad, teaches his son Śvetaketu the profound truth:

Tat Tvam Asi — That Thou Art.

Here, however, the questioning takes another direction.

Uddālaka asks Yājñavalkya about the principle that holds the world together — the unseen reality that governs everything from within.

Yājñavalkya answers with a remarkable formula.

And then he repeats it, again and again.

First, he speaks of the earth:

“He who dwells in the earth, yet is other than the earth, whom the earth does not know, whose body the earth is, who governs the earth from within — He is your Self, the Inner Controller, the Immortal.”

Then the same teaching is applied to water.

To fire.

To the sky.

To the air.

To the sun, moon and stars.

To all beings.

And then, most intimately, to the human being:

To breath.

To speech.

To the eye.

To the ear.

To the mind.

To the skin.

The formula remains essentially unchanged:

He dwells within it.
He is other than it.
It does not know Him.
It is His body.
He governs it from within.

This is the Antaryāmin — the Inner Controller.

The unseen Governor

The Sanskrit passage begins:

Yaḥ pṛthivyāṃ tiṣṭhan pṛthivyā bahir,
yaṃ pṛthivī na veda,
yasya pṛthivī śarīram,
yaḥ pṛthivīm antaro yamayati —
eṣa ta ātmāntaryāmy amṛtaḥ.

The meaning is:

“He who dwells in the earth, yet is other than the earth; whom the earth does not know; whose body the earth is; who governs the earth from within — He is your Self, the Inner Controller, the Immortal.”

What an extraordinary idea.

The earth itself does not know the One who governs it.

Water does not know.

Fire does not know.

The eye does not know the One by whose presence it sees.

The ear does not know the One by whose presence it hears.

The mind does not know the One by whose presence it thinks.

And yet that unseen reality is present within all of them.

The governed cannot easily see the Governor

There is a beautiful philosophical precision here.

We normally imagine that if something governs us, we should be able to identify it.

But the Upanishad turns that assumption upside down.

The eye sees, but it cannot see the principle by which seeing itself is possible.

The ear hears, but it cannot hear the source of hearing.

The mind thinks, but it cannot, merely by thinking, grasp that which makes thinking possible.

The instrument cannot stand outside itself and easily observe the reality that enables its functioning.

This is why the Upanishadic description is so subtle.

The Inner Controller is not merely somewhere inside us like another object hidden inside the body.

He is the very inner principle of governance.

He is closer than anything we can point to.

Look at the floor beneath your feet

The Upanishadic teaching can suddenly become very intimate.

Touch the floor beneath your feet.

The earth supports you.

But the earth does not say, “I am supporting this person.”

You breathe.

Your lungs function continuously.

Yet your lungs do not sit down and decide, “Now we shall breathe.”

Your heart beats.

Your eyes see.

Your ears hear.

Your mind thinks.

So much of life happens without the conscious command of the person who says, “I am doing it.”

Something is happening within us before our ordinary ego even enters the picture.

The Upanishad asks us to contemplate that mystery.

Not far away

Perhaps the most beautiful aspect of the teaching is its insistence that the Divine is not remote.

We often imagine God as somewhere beyond the heavens.

The Antaryāmin teaching asks us to look in the opposite direction.

Not far away.
Not outside creation.
Not merely above us.
Within.

The Divine is the One who dwells in the earth.

The One who dwells in water.

The One who dwells in fire.

The One who dwells in the cosmos.

The One who dwells in all beings.

And finally, the One who dwells within you.

Yet the Divine is not reduced to the things in which He dwells.

He is within them, yet other than them.

The earth is His body, but He is not merely the earth.

The body is His body, but He is not merely the body.

The mind is His body, but He is not merely the mind.

That distinction is central to the teaching.

From the universe to the individual

Notice the extraordinary movement of the Upanishad.

It begins with the vastness of the cosmos:

Earth → water → fire → sky → air → celestial bodies → beings

And then it moves inward:

breath → speech → eye → ear → mind → skin

The entire universe and the individual are brought into one vision.

The same Inner Controller is present everywhere.

The Divine is not divided into separate gods governing separate parts.

There is one Antaryāmin.

One Inner Controller.

One Immortal.

The mystery of the Self

The Upanishad concludes each description with words of extraordinary intimacy:

“Eṣa ta ātmāntaryāmy amṛtaḥ.”

“He is your Self, the Inner Controller, the Immortal.”

This is where the teaching becomes more than cosmology.

It becomes a question about who we really are.

If the body is governed from within, who is the governor?

If the mind itself is something governed, who is the Inner Controller?

If the senses are instruments, who is the one for whom these instruments function?

The Upanishad does not invite us merely to accept an answer.

It invites us to look.

To become quiet.

To notice.

To discover that the reality we spend our lives searching for may be the very reality by which we are able to search.

The Divine we overlook

Perhaps this is the paradox of the Antaryāmin.

He is everywhere, and therefore we overlook Him.

He is within everything, and therefore we search for Him elsewhere.

He is closer than the senses, yet the senses cannot grasp Him.

He is the inner light of our functioning, yet the mind cannot simply turn Him into another object of thought.

The earth does not know Him.

The eye does not see Him.

The ear does not hear Him.

The mind does not capture Him.

And yet—

nothing functions without Him.

That is the astonishing vision of the Antaryāmin Brahmana of the Bṛhadāraṇyaka Upaniṣad.

The Divine is not merely the One who stands above creation and commands it.

He is the One who dwells within, sustains, directs and governs from within.

The God we seek may be nearer than the next breath.

So near that the earth cannot know Him.

So near that the eye cannot see Him.

So near that the mind cannot grasp Him.

And yet—

**He is the Inner Controller.

He is the Immortal.

He is the Self within.**