Aryan’s family was struggling to keep up with the fast-paced lunar world. Sitting meditation alone was no longer enough—they needed something more dynamic, something that could seamlessly integrate into their daily lives. Necessity is the mother of invention. As they searched for a solution, a forgotten memory surfaced in Aryan’s mind—something profound, something that had once saved him in the most chaotic of times. He recalled the dynamic meditation that had once been his anchor, guiding him through the turbulence of both lunar chaos and earthly struggles—a practice that had not only saved him but had transformed him.
An Old Realization Resurfaces: The Need for Dynamic Meditation
As the chaotic waves of lunar society crashed harder each day—traffic clogging the once serene domed corridors, competition growing relentless, and a strange restlessness gripping the people—Dr. Aryan Verma found himself reminiscing about something he had once devised in his youth. It was a memory buried deep within the corridors of his mind, an intellectual and spiritual creation born out of necessity during his time at the Lunar University: Sharirvigyan Darshan.
This wasn’t just a philosophy; it was a revelation. Aryan had designed it to protect himself from the overwhelming energy fluctuations of the Intergalactic Scholarly Exchange Program, where beings from different planetary civilizations, each carrying their own frequencies and mindsets, interacted. The sheer intensity of those encounters had once threatened to shatter his inner equilibrium. The standard methods of meditation and breathwork seemed inadequate in that highly volatile environment. That’s when Sharirvigyan Darshan emerged—a framework based on the holographic principle that everything outside exists within the body itself.
“Yat pinde tat brahmande,” the ancient wisdom had whispered to him during his contemplations. If the vast, incomprehensible cosmos was mirrored inside the human body, then true peace could be accessed by simply tuning into one’s own inner structure. With this realization, he had meticulously mapped out how celestial patterns, planetary influences, and even social dynamics manifested as direct reflections within the body’s microcosm.
The first time Aryan had tested his theory in the university’s Zero-Gravity Contemplation Chamber, the results had been staggering. By simply meditating on the idea that the universe was not outside but within, his mind had stopped reacting to external chaos. Instead, he had tapped into a profound silence, an inner space untouched by disturbances. It was like watching a storm through a window rather than being trapped in it. Within seconds of contemplation, his body and mind would reset to a state of deep equilibrium.
Later, during his years of animal welfare practices on the Moon and even more later, upon returning to Earth, Aryan found that Sharirvigyan Darshan became even more profound. The natural environment—untouched forests, flowing rivers, and the vast sky—seemed to resonate with the same cosmic rhythm he had once glimpsed within animals. Sitting by a quiet lake or simply feeling the earth beneath his bare feet, he could instantly reconnect to that deep, inner stillness.
Humans on Earth, much like their lunar counterparts, were still entangled in complexities—racing through life, burdened by endless thoughts. But Aryan had already seen beyond this illusion. He knew that the entire universe existed within, and peace was never lost, only forgotten. Now, armed with this understanding, he was ready to guide others—not through words alone, but by showing them how to experience it for themselves.
In this way, he had refined this system further. Observing how animals carried natural harmony within them, unperturbed by the artificial lunar complexities, he integrated their instinctual wisdom into his method. Aryan could contemplate Sharirvigyan Darshan more profoundly within an animal’s body, for they kept their bodies free, unconcealed, and unburdened by mental constructs. Unlike humans, animals did not layer their physical existence with rigid identities, stress, or abstract self-imposed barriers. Their natural way of being allowed Aryan to observe the pure reflection of the cosmos within—unfiltered and untangled by the complexities of human thought. Over time, Sharirvigyan Darshan became not just a survival tool but a direct gateway to transcendence. It played a crucial role in Aryan’s spiritual evolution, helping him bridge the worldly and the divine effortlessly.
Now, as lunar civilization spiraled into an ever-accelerating whirlpool of stress, competition, and existential fatigue, Aryan decided to share this powerful knowledge with his family.
One evening, as the artificial lunar dusk set in, Aryan sat in his study, gazing at the holographic projection of a tiger he had once rehabilitated on Earth. His fingers traced the light patterns absentmindedly. Meera, noticing his pensive mood, set down her tablet and leaned closer.
“Lost in thought again?” she asked with a soft smile.
Aryan nodded. “I was thinking about Sharirvigyan Darshan… how I first understood it.”
Avni, who had just walked in, raised an eyebrow. “You mean that technique you taught us? The one that calms the mind instantly?”
“Exactly,” Aryan said, his eyes gleaming. “But it didn’t come to me all at once. It was through animals that I truly understood it.”
Ansh, who had been half-listening while playing with his lunar drone model, perked up. “Wait, how do animals fit into this?”
Aryan leaned forward, his voice dropping slightly as if revealing a great secret. “Humans are too tangled in their own mental constructions. We don’t just live in our bodies—we imprison ourselves in thoughts, labels, and fears. But animals…” He gestured to the tiger’s glowing image. “They don’t conceal their bodies. They live exactly as they are, free from the layers of artificial identity we impose on ourselves.”
Meera nodded thoughtfully. “So, you saw the universe within them more clearly?”
“Yes! That’s when I realized: if ‘yat pinde tat brahmande’—if everything outside is mirrored within—then animals were the purest reflection of this truth. Their bodies were like open books, free of unnecessary scribbles. When I contemplated Sharirvigyan inside them, it was like looking into a pristine, undistorted mirror of the cosmos.”
Avni’s eyes widened. “That’s insane… So, you didn’t just ‘think’ about it—you saw it, felt it, inside them?”
Aryan smiled. “Exactly! When I worked with injured animals, I would sometimes just close my eyes and tune into their natural state. Within seconds, an incredible peace would wash over me, as if my own body was syncing with the cosmic rhythm they carried effortlessly. It was unlike any meditation I had ever done before.”
Ansh, fascinated now, asked, “But why doesn’t this happen when we look at humans?”
Aryan chuckled. “Because humans are like locked chests. Even when we sit still, our minds are constructing barriers—judging, analyzing, resisting. Animals just are. That’s why it was through them that I first understood how to access peace instantly. And that’s why, even now, whenever I feel overwhelmed by lunar chaos, I return to this practice.”
Meera exhaled, shaking her head in amazement. “No wonder it works so fast… It’s not just a technique. It’s tapping into something fundamental, something we forgot but animals never lost.”
Aryan nodded. “Yes. And that’s why Sharirvigyan Darshan isn’t just a philosophy. It’s an experience—one that saved me once, and will keep saving us as this lunar world gets more chaotic. It is better to visualize Sharirvigyan Darshan within your own body—through your bare hands, breath, or entire being—rather than within another human, as they might misinterpret or resist it. Unlike humans, who are often entangled in self-perceptions and mental constructs, most animals remain free of such distortions, making them a purer reflection of the cosmic truth. However, the most direct and reliable approach is to observe and experience it within yourself.”
The family sat in silence for a moment, absorbing the depth of his words. Outside, lunar traffic zipped through the domes, and the distant hum of civilization echoed in the artificial air. But within their home, there was only stillness—the kind that Aryan had first glimpsed inside the soul of an untamed beast.
At first, Meera, Avni, and Ansh were skeptical. How could something as simple as recognizing the cosmos within bring instant peace? But as Aryan guided them through the process, the results were undeniable. Within seconds of entering this contemplative state, they felt a magnetic pull inward, a soothing stillness unlike anything they had experienced before.
Even amidst the growing modern lunar chaos, Sharirvigyan Darshan became their sanctuary. It preserved their inner peace without hindering their worldly progress, allowing them to thrive amidst the madness without being consumed by it.
And so, as the Moon’s first civilization wrestled with its own inevitable struggles, the Verma family quietly mastered the art of carrying stillness within movement, of walking through storms without getting wet.
The journey of Sharirvigyan Darshan had just begun.
Demystifying Kundalini 