An Evening Conversation on Faith, Spirits and Yoga

A few days ago, while on my evening walk after an early dinner, I stopped at a fellow’s shop to sit for a while. His neighbour, who runs a gosadan (cow shelter), and known to me since few months had recently broken his arm when a herd of cattle rushed toward the gate, breaking it while he was leaning on it. I had come there to offer sympathy and a helping hand, but he was not there at that moment. A few months earlier, his 14‑year‑old son had passed away from a rare disease.

I had often noticed a mysterious dark mixed glow in this man’s eyes. Despite his suffering, he is a devout follower of Lord Shiva and every year he, along with his entire team, arranges food (langar) for pilgrims during the month‑long Manimahesh Yatra in the hills.

While sitting there, I said to the shopkeeper that perhaps the neighbour was under bad stars or some evil influence and that he might visit a nearby city yoga guru to remove this effect. The shopkeeper immediately denied the efficacy of yoga for removing evil spirits.

I told him, “I have myself evaded such a spirit.”
He asked, “How?”

I explained: “Whenever that spirit tries to come in my dream, my guru appears there and tells it to leave me and come to him. I simply put my dhyana on my guru and pray for the peace and liberation of that spirit. It is not evil, but who would want to frequently encounter something paranormal?”

Hearing this, he softened a little.
Then he asked, “Who is your guru?”

I replied, “It should not be told to anyone.”
He asked again, “But it must have some form?”

I said, “Yes. Sometimes my guru appears as my Dadaji, sometimes as Shiva, and sometimes as Narayana, depending on the situation.”

Hearing this, and being himself a member of the Manimahesh team, he began speaking as if he knew more. He said, “Shiva cannot be worshipped. Shiva is Mahakaal. He doesn’t save, he destroys as per one’s Karma. One can become Shiva but can’t worship him. One has to become Shiva to gain benefit.”

I wondered silently: How can one become one’s favourite deity without first admiring, honouring, and worshipping it?

Then he added, “Only a Satguru can save from evil spirits, not others.”

Again, I reflected: He first opposed yoga but now he praises the Satguru — and a Satguru becomes functional only through yoga and dhyana.

That small conversation once again highlighted for me the importance of open discussion to grow and to deepen understanding.

Healing Through Dhyana: My Journey of Heart and Throat Chakra

A few days ago, I experienced a strong emotional blow due to social reasons. I had high expectations from highly paid laborers, expecting some great work, but they delivered nothing more than child’s play. I was deeply disturbed. That evening, when I sat for dhyana, I noticed my breathing naturally suspended at my Anahata chakra. Instantly, I felt immense relief, and my heart was healed surprisingly and immediately.

The very next day, I faced a heated debate with a few fellows, which tensed and disturbed me. Being more tired that evening, I skipped my dhyana practice. However, I did receive some relief through sympathetic family interactions. On the following morning, I noticed my breathing naturally settled at my Vishuddhi chakra, and during dhyana, I experienced a smooth breath suspension and healing at the throat. This taught me that worldly conflicts are not necessarily opposing dhyana. In fact, when tactfully handled, they can sometimes favor it rather than hinder it.

This experience led me to reflect on the deeper mechanisms of chakra energy, breath, and meditation. The emotional blow activated my Anahata chakra, which is the center of love, trust, and emotional processing. Breath suspension during dhyana allowed prana, or life energy, to flow precisely where it was needed, releasing tension and producing immediate healing. This shows how meditation can catalyze self-healing by aligning breath and awareness with the chakra that has been activated by specific emotional events.

Even when I skipped dhyana during the heated debate, some relief still came through external emotional resonance, like the support and sympathy of family members. While this relief was partial and slower than meditation, it shows that external support can act as a mild substitute for dhyana in harmonizing chakras.

The shift to Vishuddhi chakra the next morning was directly related to the intellectual and verbal stress from the debate. The throat chakra governs communication, expression, clarity, and mental processing. After tension in Anahata, the energy naturally rose to Vishuddhi, allowing breath suspension there and smooth, instant energetic recalibration through dhyana. This shows that chakras respond to context-specific triggers: the heart for emotional stress, the throat for intellectual or verbal challenges.

One of the key insights from these experiences is that worldly conflicts can actually favor dhyana. When handled tactfully without being drowned in the drama, meditation can utilize activated chakras for healing and alignment. Life stress can thus become a guide, highlighting where energy is stuck or needs refinement, rather than an obstacle.

The general mechanism appears as follows:

  1. Trigger → Chakra activation → Breath aligns → Awareness directs prana → Healing.
  2. External stress does not block dhyana; instead, it creates a map of where energy is stuck, which meditation can resolve.
  3. Each chakra responds to a preferred type of stress:
    • Muladhara → survival, security
    • Svadhisthana → relationships, pleasure
    • Manipura → power, confidence
    • Anahata → love, trust, emotional hurts
    • Vishuddhi → speech, clarity, mental tension
    • Ajna → intuition, decision-making
    • Sahasrara → transcendence, cosmic awareness

Through these insights, I realized the intelligent interplay between emotional triggers, energetic responses, and meditation. Dhyana does more than quiet the mind—it serves as a precise tool for emotional and energetic recalibration. Conflicts, when approached with awareness, can become openings for inner work, and each chakra reacts to the stress that naturally pertains to it.

In essence, meditation works in harmony with life’s challenges. Emotional pain or tension doesn’t block growth—it illuminates the path for healing, showing exactly where awareness and prana should be directed. My personal journey through Anahata and Vishuddhi chakras illustrates this beautifully.

For anyone practicing meditation, this experience emphasizes that being tactful in worldly interactions and observing where stress manifests in the body can guide dhyana to the most needed areas. Emotional, intellectual, and verbal challenges can activate corresponding chakras, and dhyana can then harmonize them, turning ordinary life events into precise tools for self-healing and awakening.

Enhancing Dhyana through Yogic Cleansing Techniques

Recently, I noticed that after performing rubber neti, a distinct sensation persisted along my left nostril passage. When I sat down for dhyana and focused on this sensation, my breath felt partially suspended, and I could observe subtle internal responses. I had also done vastra dhauti, and together these practices led me into a wonderful state of kevala kumbhaka during dhyana. This shows that such cleansing techniques truly support meditation. This heightened sensitivity is likely connected to the internal awareness cultivated through yoga and pranayama practices.

Later, during Vastra Dhauti, I ingested a full-length gauze bandage of about one and a half feet, though I captured its end carefully with my hand to ensure safety. Unlike earlier experiences where I felt resistance from the lower esophageal sphincter, this time it came out easily when I pulled it. I reflected on why the sphincter’s grip was different this time. Physiologically, sphincter tone naturally varies due to factors like relaxation, digestion, hydration, and nervous system state. From a yogic perspective, classical texts describe the resistance as the body’s natural “gate” holding impurities, which can reduce as the body becomes cleansed and the channels more open.

I also considered recent influences on my internal state. About fifteen hours earlier, I had consumed a beverage containing a small percentage of green tea along with herbal components. That night, I experienced strong GERD with momentary suffocation during sleep. The combination of caffeine, catechins, and acidic foods like sour lassi and curry likely contributed to LES relaxation, increased stomach acid, and heightened sensitivity to reflux. Even sleeping with my head elevated 20–25% did not fully prevent the episode, highlighting that LES tone, residual acid, and heightened internal awareness can overpower positional benefits.

This experience reinforced my observation that prana-raising yoga can heighten sensitivity to GERD. Pranayama, Kundalini, and other prana-focused practices modulate the autonomic nervous system — often increasing vagal tone and at times sympathetic activity. These shifts can contribute to transient relaxations of the lower esophageal sphincter and, combined with heightened interoceptive awareness from yoga, may make sensations such as reflux more noticeable. Even a standard wait period of three to three and a half hours after meals does not always prevent reflux for someone with heightened sensitivity. That is why, in Yoga, cleansing techniques such as Vaman and Dhauti are prescribed — they help purify the digestive tract and may indirectly support functions like those of the LES.

I have clearly found that Keval Kumbhak Dhyana helps reduce GERD and gastritis. When I lie down to sleep in a bad mood, feeling bored or stressfully tired, acid often rises, burning my esophagus and throat, and even eroding my teeth. But when I sit for Keval Kumbhak Dhyana, I become cool and refreshed. After such practice, I notice that during subsequent evening or night sleep, acid reflux does not occur. This clearly proves that deep dhyana reduces stress and promotes healthy forward gut motility. I also feel an increase in appetite after dhyana. It means that easy and calm yoga, without strenuous or rapid energy shifts, is better in this condition.

GERD is primarily caused by transient lower esophageal sphincter relaxations (TLESRs), which are neurogenic reflexes mediated through the vagus nerve in the parasympathetic system. Excess vagal activation, often triggered by gastric distension or autonomic shifts, is what induces these relaxations. Constant sympathetic dominance by itself does not usually cause GERD, but it can impair esophageal clearance, slow digestion, and heighten stress-related sensitivity to symptoms, making reflux episodes feel worse. Thus, it is the dynamic shifts and imbalances between parasympathetic and sympathetic activity—rather than a single constant state—that underlie both the occurrence of reflux and the way it is perceived. So, it’s really over-activation or imbalance (too much of either, or rapid shifts between the two) that creates the problem — not their normal physiological levels. In yoga, however, the deliberate play of the sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems may often cause surges in either and rapid shifts between both states, which explains why heightened awareness of reflux can occur during intense prana-raising practices. However in yoga, both mechanisms can play a role — sometimes it’s just heightened awareness of normal reflux, and sometimes the practice itself can physiologically trigger reflux through vagal reflexes, abdominal pressure, or autonomic shifts.

I also explored alternatives to reduce such effects while retaining benefits. Non-caffeinated or decaffeinated green tea provides the antioxidants and catechins of green tea without stimulating the nervous system or relaxing the sphincter excessively. Choosing decaf blends or herbal infusions allows for the health benefits without aggravating GERD, making them more compatible with yogic cleansing practices.

Finally, I considered a safety protocol for Vastra Dhauti after reflux-prone days: waiting 24 hours after acidic or caffeinated foods, checking stomach comfort, ensuring well-lubricated gauze, maintaining upright posture, breathing calmly, observing LES response, and monitoring for soreness or burning afterward. This cautious approach, combined with attention to diet, posture, and timing of prana-raising practices, helps sustain the benefits of yogic cleansing while minimizing discomfort or risk.

Chapter 17: The Spin of Creation

In the beginning, there was nothing that our senses could recognize — no sound, no form, no time. It was a vast stillness, like a deep breath before the first word is spoken. Out of that stillness, the first particles of creation arose. They were not yet bound by fixed qualities. They existed in a subtle condition the sages of modern science call superposition — a state where a particle holds the potential for different outcomes, as if it could be this or that, but not yet forced to reveal which one. Only through interaction or observation does one definite reality emerge.

Many people misunderstand superposition as if a particle is literally doing opposite things at once, like spinning both up and down or moving in two directions simultaneously. In reality, superposition means the particle exists in a state that carries the potential for different outcomes — mathematically expressed as a combination of options. For example, in terms of momentum, a particle may be in a superposition of “moving left” and “moving right.” It is not actually traveling in both directions in the classical sense; rather, it holds amplitudes for either possibility. When a measurement is made, or when the particle interacts with its environment, the superposition collapses, and one definite outcome is realized.

A close human analogy is the state of mind before making an important decision. Suppose you are choosing between two job offers. Until you decide, both options are active in your thoughts — you are simultaneously considering the advantages of this or that. But the moment you commit (or circumstances force you), only one choice becomes real, while the other vanishes. Similarly, in quantum mechanics, the system “chooses” one definite outcome out of its superposed possibilities when interaction occurs.

Among the many secret features these first particles carried, there was something very subtle called spin. Now, when we say “spin,” you may imagine a ball spinning like a top, but that is not what it means here. Spin in the quantum world is not a physical spinning, but rather a kind of inner orientation — an invisible arrow that can point “up” or “down,” “this way” or “that way.” It is a hidden direction, a secret signature of the particle.

Think of it like a coin spinning in the air. Before it lands, it is constantly changing orientation, carrying the potential for heads or tails, but not fixed as either. In the same way, a quantum particle in the beginning carried all possible spins within itself, holding the potential for different outcomes. Only when it interacted with other particles or its environment did it “choose” one orientation. A human analogy would be a mind weighing an important decision: before committing, all options coexist in potential, constantly shifting in consideration. That choice — so small, so silent — became a turning point in the unfolding of creation.

The First Tilt

Imagine the whole universe as a great blank canvas. Now, each particle that comes into being must place a tiny brushstroke on this canvas. The direction of its spin is like the angle of that stroke. A single stroke may not matter, but when countless strokes are placed side by side, the picture begins to emerge.

Some particles tilted their spin upward, others downward. Some aligned together, creating harmony and resonance. Others opposed each other, creating contrast and tension. These small differences became the foundation of diversity. Out of these delicate patterns, the great structures of the universe slowly took shape.

A human analogy would be the choices we make in our daily lives. Each decision — however small — is like a brushstroke on the canvas of our existence. Some choices align with each other, bringing coherence and flow; others clash, creating challenge and growth. Over time, the accumulation of these tiny decisions shapes the unique landscape of our character and destiny.

It is astonishing that the universe, with its galaxies, stars, planets, and living beings, began not from thunder or explosion alone, but also from such subtle tilts — from hidden arrows within invisible particles, much like the quiet decisions that quietly shape a life.

A Cosmic Coin Toss

Let us bring it closer to daily life. Suppose you flip a coin. If it lands heads, you walk to the river. If it lands tails, you walk to the forest. A small outcome decides a big difference in your day. Now imagine this happening not just once, but trillions upon trillions of times, with every particle in the early universe making its own “coin toss” of spin. The sum of those endless little decisions decided the destiny of stars, the clustering of galaxies, and even the chemistry that makes up our bodies.

The creation we see around us — the blue sky, the flowing rivers, the green forests — is nothing but the grand result of countless tiny choices at the level of quantum spin.

The Indian Darshana Parallel

The ancient rishis had their own way of describing this subtle truth. They spoke not of spin, but of gunas — the three basic tendencies of nature:

  • Sattva: the quality of clarity, balance, light.
  • Rajas: the quality of movement, energy, passion.
  • Tamas: the quality of rest, inertia, darkness.

Just as the balance of sattva, rajas, and tamas in prakriti shapes the flavor of experience, the universe too began with subtle biases at the quantum level. Each particle’s spin could exist in superposition, a combination of up and down, representing the potential for different outcomes. A “tilt” in this context does not mean the spin is physically angled; rather, it reflects a slight preference in the probabilities — a small bias toward one outcome over another. Over countless interactions, even these tiny tilts influenced how particles aligned, combined, and formed larger structures.

Similarly, in the human mind, a small tilt in the balance of the gunas can shift thoughts, decisions, and actions. A slight increase in sattva might bring calm reflection, a subtle rise in rajas might spark restlessness or drive, while a small surge of tamas could induce inertia or heaviness. Just as a tiny quantum bias can cascade into the architecture of matter, a small change in guna balance can cascade into patterns of behavior and experience. In both nature and mind, the smallest asymmetries — these invisible tilts — can quietly guide the unfolding of complex patterns, shaping the cosmos outside and the inner world within.

Thus, both modern science and ancient darshana point to the same mystery: that subtle, invisible orientations are not small — they are the hidden steering wheels of creation.

From Spin to Structure

But how does a simple quantum “choice” of spin create the vastness we see today? Here’s one way to imagine it. Each particle carried a spin, existing in superposition — a subtle combination of up and down — with tiny biases in that potential. As particles interacted, these spins influenced how atoms formed and how magnetic properties emerged in certain materials. Clouds of gas and dust, shaped partly by these local magnetic effects, coalesced under gravity to become stars. Within stars, nuclear fusion produced heavier elements, scattered into space by supernovae. From these elements, planets formed, and eventually, life arose. In this way, even the smallest quantum tilts in spin contributed to the grand architecture of the cosmos.

At every stage, the hidden fingerprints of spin are carried forward. Without spin, atoms would not bond properly. Without bonding, there would be no chemistry. Without chemistry, there would be no life. That means the difference between you and a stone, between a tree and a star, begins with the simplest decision of spin.

A Layman’s Metaphor: The Dance

Picture the universe as a grand dance hall, where countless dancers — electrons, stars, and beings — spin in their own rhythms. Some spin clockwise, some anticlockwise; when they align, harmony flows, and when they oppose, sparks arise, giving birth to new patterns. Science sees this as particles in superposition, collapsing into outcomes governed by probability and natural laws. Indian philosophy sees the same dance not as cold chance or rigid mechanics, but as Līlā, the divine play: the cosmos unfolds through Ṛta, the order sustaining it, Karma, the unfolding of cause and effect, and Līlā, the joyful creativity within that order. A star forms when gas clouds obey gravity and thermodynamics (Ṛta), compress and ignite fusion (Karma), yet shine uniquely with color, size, and lifespan (Līlā). Similarly, human life mirrors this cosmic dance: the body and mind maintain rhythms (Ṛta), choices create consequences (Karma), and within this structure, consciousness expresses freedom, joy, and creativity (Līlā). From quantum particles to galaxies to hearts and minds, the universe is a continuous dance — an endless, playful, yet orderly creation, where each move, each collapse, each heartbeat, is a note in the music of existence.

Spin as the Hidden Poet

If we look deeply, spin is like the secret poet of the cosmos. It does not shout or roar like gravity or thunder. It whispers quietly within each particle. Yet its whisper is strong enough to script galaxies and breathe life into matter.

It reminds us of the Upanishadic saying: “Anor aniyan, mahato mahiyan” — “That which is smaller than the smallest, is also greater than the greatest.” Spin is smaller than the smallest, yet it directs the unfolding of the greatest.

The Mystery of Choice

Now comes the most mysterious question: do particles really choose their spin, or is it destiny written in probability? Science tells us that until we measure, the spin is undecided. It is both up and down, existing in potential. But the moment of interaction forces it into one.

Indian philosophy might see this not as mechanical randomness, but as Lila — the divine play as told above. The cosmos is not bound to rigid law alone, nor to absolute chance, but to a creative play where possibilities bloom into realities. Each spin collapse is a note struck in the great music of existence.

In quantum mechanics, the probability pattern arises from the wavefunction, where a higher amplitude corresponds to a greater likelihood of observing a particular spin. This strict probabilistic law may be seen as Rhit, the cosmic order. When measurement collapses the wavefunction and a definite spin is acquired, that realization can be regarded as Karma, the action that manifests. Yet, even when a spin state has lower amplitude and thus lower probability, it can still be realized—this freedom within law reflects Leela, the divine play through which the universe unfolds.

The human mind also behave like a quantum particle in a superposition of spin, holding two opposite possibilities at once. For example, a boy may think of a girl he never interacts with and simultaneously “spin” between believing he loves her and he does not. When he is with one group of friends, his mental state collapses like a particle’s spin measurement, resulting in “I don’t love her.” With another group, the collapse leads to “I do love her.” Interaction acts like observation in quantum physics, forcing a definite outcome. Even if his friends only watch silently, he still has to choose, because remaining in both states makes him look odd, as if he doesn’t belong to the same world as others. The world expects clear and definite outcomes, not a blur of possibilities.

Importantly, the belief itself is selected naturally by the environment—he does not need to apply mental force. For instance, in the group of introverted friends, the belief “I do not love her” arises automatically, aligning with the group’s dynamics, because it allows the group to function smoothly. Similarly, the belief “I do love her” fits better with extroverted friends, so in that context, it naturally emerges. This is like a hidden societal pressure: just as a particle’s spin depends on its environment, the mind’s belief collapses into the option that best complements its social surroundings, supporting the orderly growth of creation.

Even the “opposite spin” can be chosen if it serves the group. If an introverted group needs a push of extroversion to grow, the double-minded boy may naturally select “I do love her,” even though the group values the opposite belief. We can call this now as the selection of a low-probability outcome a movement away from rigid law into the divine play of Leela. Just as a quantum choice happens automatically without conscious effort, human choices can also emerge spontaneously. Consciousness, experienced as ego, is merely an extra layer added by the mind and is unnecessary for the process itself instead it is harmful and shrinks down the vast self.

In human analogy, this can be further understood as follows: suppose an office opens at 10 a.m. sharp, and an employee usually arrives at this time. This regularity represents Rhit or rigid law—the employee has the highest probability of reaching at 10 a.m. However, the employee may also arrive earlier, later, or even take a day or more off, though the probability of these outcomes is lower. The further the departure from the usual time, the lower the probability, yet such variations can occur at any moment. This unpredictability is Leela or divine play, where nothing is absolutely rigid but is shaped by circumstances. Reaching the office at a time determined by circumstances is Karma, which naturally results in Phala. Spending more time in the office means more Karma leading to greater Phala, while spending less time means less Karma and thus less Phala.

The above example solves the puzzle of conscious observation very well and also suggests that every particle in the cosmos possesses consciousness—pure consciousness. When a particle is in a superposition of qualities and interacts with other particles, those other particles, in a sense, “observe” it, causing it to collapse into an outcome that favors them as well as the entire creation. Just as the conscious observation of the boy by the people around him fixes his mindset to one option, the conscious observation of a particle by other particles fixes its character in a way best suited to the conditions. But what is the level of consciousness of those observing particles? It cannot vary like that of living beings, because the inert world does not possess ego—let alone the changing levels of ego seen in living beings. Since only ego diminishes consciousness, this itself proves that the inert world abides in supreme consciousness, or pure awareness. In this manner, there remains no doubt that human behavior reflects the behavior of the external, so-called inert world. This demonstrates that everything is conscious, although the level of consciousness may differ. Even each level of consciousness exists elusively, not truly on its own, but appearing like a bubble in water within a single grand super-consciousness—omnipresent and called God.

Many people argue that quantum decisions are non-conscious, while human decisions are conscious, and therefore refuse to see a similarity. But why not consider that the ultimate void present everywhere is the soul of everything, in a way experiencing all events and outcomes? Suppose this consciousness is completely free of ego and exists as pure awareness. It is like the extreme state of a karma-yogi living in the world, whose ego is dissolved to a minimum. Such a being experiences all choices and selections but perceives no difference between experiences—he is fully nondual. Now, consider God as the ultimate form of this being, who even does not experience anything at all but remains in waveless, pure consciousness forever. His existence in pure consciousness is sufficient to account for experiencing everything, yet he does not experience it in the ordinary, ocean-wave like way. Instead, he remains as the ever-waveless, undisturbed ocean of consciousness itself. Viewed through this lens, there is no difference between human, world, and God. This is ultimate nonduality, described as the highest truth in Vedanta.

Since the substance of an idol—stone, metal, or clay—represents the world of inert matter, and the super-consciousness of God is invoked into it by priests through the spiritual ritual of prana pratishtha, it is natural to believe that this God is the experiencer and controller of every material change, from the minutest quantum fluctuation to the vastest cosmic event throughout his cosmic body. That is why it is said that God sees everything, and not even a leaf moves without His will. In fact, this God is the same observer for quantum collapses throughout the entire cosmos, just as a human being acts as the observer of a quantum particle in the double-slit experiment causing it to collapse from superposition of outcomes to definite outcome. Just as the human soul experiences and governs its limited body—even not physical body directly but only negligible portion of the brain called mind—the supreme soul pervades and governs every particle, in a measure equivalent to the entirety of creation. By recognizing human-like consciousness in every inert particle—either through observing orderly and beautiful nature or doing idol worship—we are naturally led to the experience of quantum darshan. Moreover, observing physical similarities between the human body and inert particles through modern quantum science further reinforces this belief, making the understanding of quantum darshan full in entirity.

Why not then consider everything in the cosmos as part of God’s cosmic body? Just as the human body eats, drinks, and excretes, similar basic patterns of “life” can be observed in every inert particle—from electrons to atoms, stars, galaxies, and even beyond, if we consider the multiverse. For example, in the quantum world, an electron absorbing a photon is like eating or drinking. It is even comparable to inhaling air, through which prana-energy rises and the seminal essence is lifted. These intakes allow the particle to grow. Similarly, when an electron emits energy or releases electrons, it can be compared to exhaling air, through which prana-energy descends, and the seminal essence is carried down and even lost to the environment. Bodily excretions such as defecating, urinating, and sweating, which reduce size or energy, are all like outflows and opposites to intakes.

Electron taking energy from outside with food air water etc and conserving it without releasing out jumps to higher orbital of higher awareness and loosing energy through seminal discharge to outside force it to lower chakras of low energy status. It cannot even be called low-energy chakras or high-energy chakras, because the sum total of energy is always equal. It is only the orientation of energy that differs. In the lower chakras, energy is oriented towards blind worldly activities marked by ignorance, duality, and attachment. In the upper chakras, energy is oriented towards awakened worldly activities marked by self-awareness, non-duality, and detachment. The tilt of energy is like the tilt of spin—either upward or downward. If the probability of energy tilting upward is increased through good company, yoga, and meditation, then the likelihood of energy rising to the upper chakras becomes greater. However, environmental impacts—such as a sudden fight-or-flight situation in self-defense or an overload of work—can also push the energy into the low-probability domain of the lower chakras. This is the same divine play that can never be fixed or rigid. On the other hand, if the probability of energy settling in the lower chakras is higher due to overburden, stress, bad company, addiction, tamasic food, or excessive sexual conduct, then through Tantric support the energy may suddenly shift into the low-probability domain of the upper chakras. Truly, life is another name for probability.

Quantum Spin and the Livingness of Existence

In a way, sound is nothing mystical—it is the forward push of atoms and molecules of air. It is actually quantum particle in this sense. What we perceive as sound is actually the blow of those atoms and molecules upon the eardrum. In truth, it is their touch that we feel. When we place ourselves within sound, we recognize that it is not something immaterial, but a direct contact with atoms and molecules fully like us as revealed by quantum darshan.

In the same way, smell is the touch of quantum particles of a substance inside the nose. Sight is the touch of photons on the retina of the eye. Taste is the intimate embrace of food molecules with the tongue. And touch itself is the meeting of surfaces at the atomic level. Thus, all our senses—hearing, smelling, seeing, tasting, touching—are nothing but the embrace of atoms. On this foundation, we can apply Quantum Darshan, which reveals that we are not separate from what we sense; the experiencer and the experienced are one. Just as Patanjali Yoga teaches that in Samadhi the experiencer and the experienced become one, the same truth also holds at the physical level—where every sensory experience is nothing but the meeting and unity of atoms, particles, body and consciousness.

Actually, the fundamental essence of life is choice and decision, which are exhibited everywhere—from the behavior of a quantum particle to the dynamics of the endless cosmos. Therefore, everything is alive, and we are not different things but the same reality expressed everywhere.

Here the role of spin becomes crucial. In the quantum world, particles always carry spin—an intrinsic quality that represents direction, orientation, and the potential for alignment or disorder. When spins are scattered, disorder reigns. But when they align, order emerges, creating magnetism, coherence, and harmony. Human life reflects the same law: when our thoughts, desires, and choices are scattered, ego and duality arise. When they align through nonduality and detachment, great harmony and strength appear, producing bliss and higher states of consciousness.

In meditation on the breath, we feel the constant touch of air molecules in the nostrils and the subtle movements of the body, which are nothing but the embrace of atoms. With steady attention, the Quantum Darshan–mediated benefit arises—the emergence of nonduality, calmness, and bliss. Similarly, constant gazing (trataka) at a flame, a brick, or any steady object directs energy to higher centers, awakening nonduality and detachment—the very qualities of higher chakras. This occurs due to the Quantum Darshan effect produced by the atoms of the observed material. The higher chakras resonate with this aligned order, just as coherent spin systems in physics generate powers such as magnetism, laser emission, and more. Magnetism or personal attractiveness naturally arises when one abides in higher chakras, suggesting the presence of aligned spin–type coherence in higher states of consciousness.

Natural forces—air, water, fire, sun, mountains—were personified into idols not merely for devotion, but to make inert matter attractive to the mind, to fix attention easily and for prolonged periods. The hidden science behind spiritual progress with this is none other than Quantum Darshan, working through the alignment of inner and outer spins.

Even the act of looking at beautiful or beautified nature for long with interest and getting a type of spiritual upliftment with this works on the same principle: when the mind’s spins align with the ordered beauty of nature, nonduality and calmness arise, uplifting the spirit.

This also explains why living, human-like machines fascinate us so much. It is not merely because they share our workload, but because they manifest Quantum Darshan in visible form—clusters of quantum particles performing work in an intelligent, lifelike manner. If it were only about reducing effort, ordinary labor would have been equally fascinating. But it is not. Human labor often appears binding and mechanical, whereas machines embody the detached, efficient, and nondual qualities of aligned spin systems in nature.

Only rare human workers bring the same nonduality and detachment into their work. When they do, they naturally radiate all other divine and humane qualities, and achieve far greater progress than ordinary workers. That is why they are so highly valued and sought after.

I even remember one such worker in my own family, kept by my ancestors long ago. He had no ego, no duality, no attachment. He worked with machine-like discipline—untiring, precise, and dedicated—yet carried the added human gifts of politeness, sincerity, loyalty, and a smiling, happy presence. He was like a perfectly aligned spin system in human form—disciplined, calm, and full of energy, but also radiating warmth and harmony. His very life became a living demonstration of Quantum Darshan in action, where detachment and nonduality did not diminish human warmth, but actually enhanced it.

Thus, Quantum Darshan of spin teaches us that spiritual progress, humane work culture, and even joy in daily life all emerge from the same principle: alignment, nonduality, and detachment. The alignment of quantum spins in nature and the alignment of human qualities in life are one and the same reality, manifesting everywhere from the smallest particle to the boundless cosmos.

Disburdening the Mind: Lessons from Quantum Spin Alignment

Quantum processing in the inert world is not less or slower than that of the human mind, but often greater in many places and at many times. Despite this, only humans require repeated rest. This is because humans consciously experience all these processes. They become burdened by the binding and blinding effects of ego and may even go mad.

Here, the situation is very similar to quantum spin systems. When spins are disordered or decoherent, energy scatters and the system becomes unstable. The human mind, when caught in ego and scattered thoughts, experiences the same disorder. That is why humans need to be disburdened of this scattered spin-like state.

For this, they require philosophical thinking and practices such as Sharirvigyan Darshan, Quantum Darshan, idol worship, visiting temples, yoga, and meditation. This is only possible when they temporarily disengage themselves from work, which gives them enough time and energy for such practices. This refreshes them and makes them ready for the next bout of work.

In this way, just as aligned spins radiate new powers in physics Like ferromagnetism, superconductivity, nuclear magnetic resonance (NMR) or MRI, lasers (photon spin coherence), Bose–Einstein condensates, etc., aligned human consciousness—freed from ego—radiates new energy, clarity, and strength for life.

The One Becoming the Many

From this understanding arises a beautiful vision: the universe did not need a loud command to begin. It began quietly, through the simplest of gestures — a tilt, a turn, a hidden arrow of spin. From that silent whisper, the cosmos unfolded into diversity.

It is as if the One wished to become the Many. To do this, it did not split violently but simply inclined itself in tiny ways, here up, there down. Those inclinations multiplied, interacted, and blossomed into the vastness we now see.

Closing Reflection

So when you look at the sky at night, filled with stars, remember: their brilliance was born of the tiniest tilts of unseen particles. When you look at your own hand, made of living cells, know that the bonds of those cells depend on the same quantum spins.

Spin is the secret reminder that the smallest things hold the greatest powers. In the delicate play of orientations, creation found its diversity. And in every up and down of spin, the cosmic story continues to be written.

Closing Verse (Mantra-style)

From the subtle, the gross is born.
From the unseen, the seen arises.
From a hidden tilt, a universe blossoms.
O silent spin, O cosmic poet —
You are the whisper that became creation.

Chapter 16: The Flow of Momentum

This chapter opens a rare window where the mysteries of the quantum world mirror the journey of human existence. Just as an electron can be spread out like a single thread flowing smoothly in one direction, or gathered like a ball of thread pointing in many directions at once, so too does human life shift between being widely open and singularly focused. The dance between position and momentum, localization and freedom, becomes not only a law of physics but also a profound analogy for consciousness itself. Here, the quantum principle transforms into a stable pillar of Quantum Darshan—showing how the unseen play of momentum shapes both particles and people in their search for truth.

In the everyday world, a water wave carries momentum because countless molecules move together, each adding its tiny push. But in the quantum world, the wonder is that even a single particle behaves like a wave. Its ripples are not built from many particles, but from many possibilities of one particle, spread out until observation pins it down. The form of this wave itself encodes momentum: when the ripples are spread far apart, with more space between them, the wavelength is long and the momentum is gentle; when the ripples are tightly packed, the wavelength is short and the momentum is strong. And when many ripples of different spacing mingle together, the momentum becomes uncertain and spread into countless options. Just as the ocean’s ripples can rock a ship, the unseen quantum wave carries the full push and direction of a single particle—an awe-striking truth where matter and motion flow as one. Think of it like a **festival crowd**. When everyone is packed tightly in one corner, you know where they are, but you cannot guess which way each will rush — momentum is uncertain. When the same crowd moves as a **procession down one road**, their positions are spread out, but their direction is obvious — momentum is clear. Or like a **thread**: stretched straight, it points firmly in one direction, but coiled into a ball, it points everywhere at once. And most strikingly, like water: when left to flow, a river runs smooth and straight — momentum clear, position vague. But press your finger sharply into it, and instantly whirlpools arise — the flow coils round and round, revealing many hidden directions. In the same way, when a particle is forced into one place, its wave curls into a whirl of momenta. Even the **human mind** follows this rhythm. When it flows freely on one thought like on meditation image, its direction is steady and momentum clear. But when forced into a single point of obsession, thoughts scatter in all directions at once. Thus, the particle does not switch between “wave” and “particle.” It is always one reality, but its manifestation shifts with the balance between position and momentum. This is the mysterious dance — the very flow of momentum.

In the quantum world, momentum is never just one thing. Just as a particle’s spin can be many states at once until observed, momentum too exists as a wave of possibilities. Just clarifying, spin before measurement is a mix of up and down (shown as a tilt), but when measured it always collapses to fully up or fully down. Regarding momentum, a particle carries not a single direction but a cloud of potential directions. Only when it interacts — when it collides or is measured — does that cloud collapse into a definite movement.

We usually don’t say that momentum itself gives rise to matter or particle from energy, because momentum is only one aspect of the wave. When a quantum particle is localized in space, the wavefunction is concentrated at certain spots. This localization can only happen when many different momentum components superpose together—so a sharp position always comes at the cost of mixed directions. Conversely, when a particle is completely delocalized, like a plane wave stretched across space, it is not manifested at any one place, and its momentum becomes sharp and single. This trade-off between position and momentum is the essence of the uncertainty principle.

A simple analogy is a thread: a single long stretched thread runs neatly in one direction, like a delocalized wave with one fixed momentum. But if you roll the same thread into a ball, it points in many directions at once, just as a localized particle requires many momenta. Similarly, a human being, localized in his body and ego, has countless directions of thoughts and choices—no one can predict when he will turn over. But a sage, whose consciousness is unlocalized and expanded, flows in one single direction of fixed morals and ethics.

In the language of physics, the electron never collapses into the nucleus, though drawn by its powerful attraction. The uncertainty principle guards it—when confined too closely, its momentum becomes wildly uncertain, granting it the energy to escape that fatal embrace. In the language of spirit, the same truth shines: the soul, pressed into the narrow prison of ego, cannot vanish into nothingness. As it approaches that dark zero, the mind grows chaotic, restless, and unpredictable, until the deeper essence breaks free. Just as quantum law protects the electron, the divine play of consciousness protects the soul from eternal bondage.

A good example of quantum localisation is the electron as a standing wave inside the atom. Between the imaginary walls of the atomic potential, nodes and antinodes arise, showing that waves in opposite directions coexist. Because the electron is bound by the nucleus through Coulomb attraction, its wave does not point in just two directions but spreads into a cloud of countless directions. This makes the electron a superposition of many momenta, with probability thick in some regions and thin in others, like a cloud dense here and faint there.

In the same way, the human mind does not only swing in the straight line of yes or no. It also feels pulls from many centers. At the very base lies muladhara, the root, where instincts of survival and grounding take hold. From here rises svadhisthana, the center of passions and desires, carrying the waters of creativity, pleasure, and romance. Above it shines manipura, the fiery seat of willpower, ambition, and the drive to shape one’s path. Higher still, at the heart, rests anahata, where love and compassion blossom, where emotions soften into care and empathy. From the throat flows vishuddha, the power of speech and expression, where words carry both truth and deception, shaping destinies like ripples on water. At the brow glows ajna, the eye of vision and clarity, where intellect refines into insight and direction. Finally, at the crown unfolds sahasrara, the thousand-petaled lotus, where ignorance melts into pure awareness, and consciousness stretches beyond body and mind toward the infinite. Just as the atomic electron is a cloud of probabilities, the human mind is a cloud of tendencies.

An atom and a human are similar—both are made of waves and held in shape by forces, both are clouds of many possibilities, and both reveal the same principle of quantum darshan—that reality manifests as a dance of localization and delocalization, of multiplicity and oneness.

A particle is the actual excitation of a quantum field, the fundamental spark that exists independently of how it appears. This excitation is real and does not depend on whether its wave is spread out or concentrated. What superposition of momenta does is shape the particle’s appearance: when many momentum components combine, the particle seems bundled and localized, like a small dot in space; when momentum is sharp and singular, the particle appears as a smooth, delocalized wave, stretching across regions. In the same way, a human being is the true essence of consciousness, ever-present and whole, regardless of how thoughts or desires seem to fluctuate. When consciousness localizes in the body and ego, it flows in many directions—toward intellect, speech, emotion, instincts, passions, and even ignorance—much like the superposition of many momenta creating a particle-like cloud. But when consciousness delocalizes, like a sage absorbed in truth, it flows steadily in one direction, unaffected by distractions, just as a wave with a single momentum spreads evenly without forming a concentrated dot. Thus, physics distinguishes between the particle itself and the way it manifests, and quantum darshan mirrors this distinction by showing the difference between pure being and the multiple forms in which that being expresses itself.

Momentum: The Hidden Sculptor of Electron Orbitals

Electrons in atoms are not tiny balls orbiting the nucleus but standing waves governed by quantum mechanics. Their behavior is determined by both position and momentum, which are intimately connected: a sharply localized electron requires a wide range of momentum components, while a well-defined momentum corresponds to a delocalized spatial distribution. The familiar orbitals—s, p, d, and f—emerge as the visible patterns resulting from the superposition of momentum states in three-dimensional space. Where momentum components cancel, nodes appear; where they reinforce, the probability of finding an electron is high.

Momentum plays a central role in shaping orbital forms. In s-orbitals, momentum is distributed evenly in all directions, producing a spherical cloud that may slightly overlap the nucleus. In p-orbitals, momentum flows along opposite directions, creating dumbbell-shaped regions and vanishing at the center due to angular nodes. In d- and f-orbitals, momentum organizes into increasingly complex patterns, forming clover-like or intricate shapes. In each case, the spatial arrangement of electrons reflects the underlying balance of momentum, constrained by the nucleus’ potential energy.

A human analogy makes this clearer. Imagine a bonfire at the center of a field, representing the nucleus, with people arranging themselves around it. Their seating is not random but reflects tendencies—some drawn closer, others pushed farther away—until a stable pattern emerges. In s-like behavior, people spread evenly in all directions, reflecting balanced momentum. In p-like behavior, they sit opposite each other, leaving gaps in between. In d-like patterns, groups form lobes, much like intersecting momentum flows. What governs these patterns is not mere position but the “push and pull” of movement—just as momentum sculpts electron orbitals.

This physical principle mirrors human life. Just as a quantum state is infinite and wave-like in its true nature but becomes localized into particle-like form through interactions, so too is the human soul infinite by essence yet localized into worldly roles through social interactions and duties. The key insight is that localization does not erase the underlying reality. An electron may appear particle-like, yet its momentum-based wave nature continues to govern its behavior. Similarly, a human being may act within roles and responsibilities, yet can remain inwardly free and egoless through awareness—what may be called “quantum darshan.

Thus, momentum is more than a physical quantity; it is the hidden architect that bridges infinite possibility with localized reality. In atoms, it gives rise to orbitals, nodes, and the structure of matter. In life, it offers a metaphor for how the infinite can remain untouched even while appearing in finite forms. Matter and consciousness alike are shaped by this subtle law: structure emerges not from rigidity but from the balanced interplay of hidden momentum.

From Infinite Wave to Localized Self: A Quantum Analogy

For matter seen as particles, momentum is mass multiplied by velocity, giving speed and direction. For waves, momentum is expressed differently: it is linked to wavelength by the relation p=ℏkp = \hbar kp=ℏk. A shorter wavelength corresponds to higher momentum, a longer wavelength to lower momentum. In this sense, momentum does not push a single point forward but shapes how the entire wave extends and propagates. A single traveling wave is like a calm, steady thought flowing endlessly in one direction—peaceful, unbroken, extending into infinite consciousness. A standing wave is like a thought that keeps reflecting back on itself, creating rhythmic patterns of clarity and pause, much like a mantra echoing in the mind. But when many thought-waves of different kinds arise together, rushing in various directions, they interfere with one another: sometimes aligning to produce bright flashes of awareness and insight, and sometimes canceling to leave dark patches of confusion or ignorance. Just as an electron wave interferes only with another electron wave and not with a proton wave, in the mind too, one type of thought mostly interferes with its own kind—peace reinforcing peace, desire clashing with desire, fear amplifying fear—while different categories of thoughts usually pass by without strongly disturbing one another. In the same way that a localized electron wave emerges from the interference of many momentum components, the mind’s sharp moments of awareness appear as temporary luminous blobs born from the interplay of many thought-waves converging at once.

The arrangement of electron orbitals may be compared to a bonfire gathering. No single person’s movement defines the whole crowd, yet patterns of sitting, shifting, and adjusting ripple through the circle. The arrangement around the fire is not set by one individual’s speed or direction, but by the combined tendencies of all—much as a wave’s momentum is not a single push but the harmony of many components.

A whirlpool offers another image of the same principle. Its spirals are not caused by one drop of water but by countless flows of momentum combining, cancelling, and reinforcing each other until a stable pattern forms. In orbitals, the interference of momentum components works in the same way: some directions cancel to form nodes, others add up to create lobes of high probability. What emerges is not random motion but a structured, wave-shaped pattern, sculpted by momentum.

The same can be seen in the human mind. Thoughts arise from many subtle impulses—memories, desires, and impressions—that move in different directions like wave components. When these mental momenta conflict, they cancel out into silence; when they align, they create strong patterns of thought or emotion. Just as atomic orbitals emerge from the balance of momenta, the structure of the mind emerges from the balance of inner currents. A calm and egoless awareness, like quantum darshan, allows one to remain infinite and unbound even while these patterns form, much as the electron remains a wave even when appearing particle-like.

Thus, whether seen in the crowd around a fire, the swirl of a whirlpool, or the patterns of the mind, the lesson is the same: momentum is the hidden architect, silently shaping both matter and consciousness.

Momentum of Union: From Manifestation to Dissolution

In the quantum wave, the peaks are not points of highest energy but of highest probability, special zones where existence is most likely to show itself. Energy belongs to the whole standing wave, shared between stillness and motion, but probability gathers in the crests as if the cosmos were leaning toward manifestation there. Yet one wave alone does not guarantee appearance; true manifestation arises when waves of the same kind meet in harmony, their crests merging, amplitudes rising, and probability surging until the particle is found. This is constructive interference—the cosmic embrace of Shiva and Shakti, not two separate substances but two polarities of one wave, consciousness and power, motion and stillness, whose union gives birth to the manifest world. It is as if one human alone can experience the world, but the experience becomes extraordinary, vivid, and far more joyful when two or more human beings share it together in sympathetic coherence, each energising the other’s awareness. In the same way, a single wave can manifest the world at its peaks, but this is nothing compared to the towering peaks that arise when many waves merge in harmony. Just as a thought is potentiated by the same kind of thought from others, and not by unrelated thoughts, so too an electron wave is potentiated only by another electron wave, not by a photon wave. When crest meets trough, however, the wave cancels, probability vanishes, and manifestation dissolves. This destructive interference is not mere negation but a deeper kind of union. In tantra, it unfolds in two phases: first, the mental energy released by dissolution is gathered and delivered wholly to a single meditation image. Like a secret momentum shift, the scattered forces of desire collapse into one direction, awakening the image into living presence aka kundalini awakening and producing self-realisation that burns away the final traces of craving for the world. Only then, in the second phase, is the yogi free to dissolve completely. With no momentum pulling outward, the cancellation of crest and trough becomes total absorption, the wave rests in silence, and the yogi merges into the void of Samadhi. This rhythm of creation and dissolution can also be glimpsed in human life. I heard of two students, one boy and one girl, bound in intense friendship. They studied, grew, and rose together, step by step, reinforcing each other without leaps and bounds—like two waves in perfect constructive interference. Yet when their bond deepened into total merging, they no longer remained as individuals in the world. Their togetherness became so absolute that they dissolved into silence, cut off from outward play, like crest and trough folding into stillness. First, their friendship amplified life; then, their union carried them beyond it. However, it was a premature union and not of much use. Thus, the wave reveals both arcs of cosmic psychology. Constructive interference is the rising momentum of manifestation, the creative embrace where resonance swells into being. Destructive interference is the withdrawing momentum of dissolution: first conserving energy into awakening, then releasing it into pure stillness. In this rhythm we see the eternal play of Shiva and Shakti, of probability rising into form and dissolving back into the void, the very dance of momentum through which the cosmos breathes. It simply means that married life is not only for dissolution, as many think, but also for rising to the peak through constructive interference.

Quantum Interference and Electron Localization

An electron in an atom behaves as a wave, continuously reflected by the nucleus, forming a standing wave at discrete wavelengths—these are the atomic orbitals where it can exist stably. When the electron absorbs a photon, it gains energy, which increases its momentum and shortens its wavelength. This new wavelength can no longer fit the lower orbital’s standing-wave pattern, creating destructive interference there. The electron can only stabilize in a higher orbital whose standing-wave pattern matches its new wavelength, allowing constructive interference. Analogously, it is like a person trying to focus: when their energy or attention increases, they cannot remain in a previous state of focus; they must adjust to a new pattern that accommodates the added intensity, or else their focus scatters. In this way, discrete atomic energy levels naturally emerge from the wave-like momentum of the electron, and photon absorption “lifts” the electron precisely to the next allowed standing wave.

Harmony in Motion: How Electrons and Minds Find Their Balance

Just as momentum gives matter its speed and direction, the Pauli exclusion principle shapes the organization of electrons in an atom. No two electrons with the same spin can occupy the same orbital—much like in a harmonious family life, where two members of the same kind cannot occupy the same niche; balance requires diversity. One electron must be “male” and the other “female,” complementing each other, creating stability and order. Similarly, a doctor’s mind thrives on a delicate balance of opposing thoughts: one aims to benefit the patient through proper treatment, while the other ensures the doctor receives fair compensation. If only one thought dominates—pure altruism without reward, or pure self-interest without care—the system fails. When both coexist in harmony, like opposite spins in an orbital, the doctor can act effectively, grow in skill, and sustain the practice. In both the quantum world and human endeavors, stability and progress emerge from the interplay of opposites, each finding its rightful place in the dance of balance and cooperation.

Human as Mirror of All Worlds: From Atoms to Cosmos and Brahma

Actually, human beings give experience to the world. Whatever is happening in the quantum world, the micro world, and the macro world is experienced by the human being. But how? Humans never directly see the quantum world, nor the macro world extended into infinite space. They only observe the limited world of friends, family, social connections, and job. Yet, in truth, every world is covered within this. All other worlds are only photocopies of this limited world—some reduced in size down to the quantum level, and some enlarged to the scale of endless space and cosmos. All these worlds are reflected in human thoughts, emotions, and behaviour. So it is not hard to conclude that the human being is everywhere: in every quantum particle, in every piece of matter, and in every space. Keeping this in mind, a person naturally becomes detached and non-dual like those. This is like the repeated scriptural sayings that Brahma learned the art of living from Narayana, many great rishis and kings learned the art of living from Brahma, and from King Janak his people learned the art of living from him. It is a tradition. Brahma means the world we live in. So, when we count ourselves equal to all matter, we are in fact counting ourselves equal to Brahma. This is direct learning, but we can also learn from a Vedic priest, who through Sanatan rituals shows that he is equating himself with Brahma. That is the indirect method, and it is also very effective. Probably I received this learning from my Dada Guru, in whose company I grew, who was a great Sanatan Purohit and expert in gods and nature-worship rituals.

The tendency of humans and atoms is the same. The atom has made eyes; humans have made cameras and televisions. The atom has made feet and plain areas to walk; humans have covered feet with shoes and created roads and automobiles for travel. The atom made protective skin over the body; humans have added extra protection by building houses. Whatever work we compare, the patterns are similar. Then where lies the difference? The difference is only in the style of doing and living. The atom is egoless, peaceful, orderly nondual, and detached—whereas humans are quite the opposite. Yet, when one keeps in mind the similarity between the two, it becomes easier to imbibe the very character of the atom itself.

Actually, nature looks beautiful because it is created by the orderly activities of atoms. Among them we feel our own orderly social life. And through this recognition we attain detachment and non-duality like them. That is why we feel peace in naturally flowing, orderly, and beautiful picturesque sceneries, which appear to be made by the intelligent design of the cosmos.

Quantum Darshan: The Unity of All Life and Matter

No one is truly illiterate or ignorant in this world. Everyone, in their own way, understands their body and mind at least in a gross sense. This is the most visible reflection of the cosmos, whether we look through the lens of the quantum world or space science. Quantum Darshan reveals this truth and, by doing so, sows the seeds of love, sympathy, and cooperation among human beings. Once we see this, no one — not even the smallest creature — can be considered ignorant, for all are moving along the same life pattern and deserve to be treated as equal to ourselves. What may seem like utopia — equality between every living and non-living being — is in fact real and possible. A stone is carrying out the same quantum processing that a quantum computer performs. A mosquito lives the same fundamental lifestyle as Brahma himself. Indeed, what Brahma does, the quantum world is also doing silently within even a stationary stone, as revealed by Quantum Darshan. It reveals that all matter, living or non-living, follows the same fundamental laws — superposition, uncertainty, interactions and collapse including every quantum and cosmic phenomena as revealed above — even if we cannot perceive them directly.

Then a logical question arise, why study quantum science and space science if everything already reflects in human behavior? Primarily, it is to provide scientific authenticity for the principles of non-duality and detachment to non-believers, superficial believers, or insincere believers, since genuine believers are already guided in a practical way by the true teachings of the scriptures on these fundamental spiritual truths. Even after so much effort to uncover the deep, hidden secrets of the quantum world and the vast cosmos, if no insightful philosophies like Sharirvigyan Darshan or Quantum Darshan emerge, then we are only grasping the tip of the iceberg in terms of real understanding and benefits.

The First Currents

Imagine a blank canvas covered with countless tiny droplets of paint, each one holding the potential to flow in any direction. Left untouched, the canvas seems empty, as if nothing is happening. But the slightest nudge—a tilt, a breeze, a brushstroke—sets the droplets in motion. They merge, spread, and create patterns, slowly forming a vibrant painting full of movement and life.

In the same way, the first tiny differences in momentum among quantum particles created the first cosmic currents. Some moved faster, some slower. Some turned left, others right. These slight variations created uneven patches in the early universe — places where particles crowded together, and places where they spread apart.

Those uneven patches were the womb of galaxies. Without them, matter would have been evenly smeared across the universe, like a thin mist with no stars, no planets, no life.

A Small Push, a Big Destiny

To understand momentum’s power, think of a football match. A player gives the ball just a little extra push, and that small change decides whether the ball hits the goalpost or scores the winning shot. Momentum changes work like that. A tiny nudge in one direction at the beginning can lead to entirely different outcomes later.

In the quantum world, such nudges multiplied billions of times, across billions of particles. The universe was like a grand game, with each tiny push shaping the larger play. Out of these minute movements came the vast rivers of matter that flowed into galaxies, the clusters of stars, and finally, the planets that hold life.

Indian Darshana View: The Flow of Gati

In Indian thought, momentum finds its echo in the idea of gati — movement, flow, the ceaseless dance of prakriti. The Bhagavad Gita reminds us that all beings are helplessly driven by their nature, their guna. In the same way, all particles are carried forward by their inherent momentum.

A small shift in guna can change a person’s destiny; a small shift in momentum can change the destiny of a universe. Rajas pushes, Tamas resists, Sattva balances—and between them the world flows. Momentum is the hidden driver that turns possibility into pattern. Movement in the direction of Sattva leads toward the divine, in the direction of Rajas creates restlessness, and in the direction of Tamas leads to inertia or darkness. Yet, the superposition of movement in all three directions and choosing a single direction at a time according to the need and situation at that time produces a balanced, complete human being. Similarly, the superposition of particles in all directions but choosing one as per requirement allows the world to remain balanced, harmonious, and ever-growing.

From Fluctuations to Galaxies

Modern cosmology tells us something remarkable: the universe today, with its starry skies and living worlds, is a magnified version of the tiniest quantum fluctuations of momentum in the very beginning.

Those tiny differences, amplified over time by gravity, created the “cosmic web.” Imagine stretching a net across the universe, with knots where galaxies form and empty spaces between them. That cosmic net was woven by momentum changes in the earliest moments.

Without these variations, we would see no clusters of stars, no Milky Way, no Earth, no us. Momentum changes are the fingerprints of creation on the fabric of space.

Layman’s Metaphor: The River

Picture a mountain stream. At first, water drips quietly from melting snow. One drop goes left, another right. These tiny shifts decide where the stream will carve its path. Soon rivulets join, currents grow, and a mighty river flows down to the valley, nourishing fields and villages.

In the same way, momentum changes in the earliest particles were like those first drops. A particle leaned slightly this way, another that way. These small differences grew into vast flows of matter, carving out the rivers of stars and planets that fill the universe.

A simple change of flow in one particle became a cascade, and from that cascade, entire galaxies were born.

The Dance of Interactions

Momentum also governs how particles meet each other. Two particles rushing straight at each other may collide and create new forms. If their momentum differs only slightly, they may miss, glide, or scatter. Thus, the angle and force of momentum are like the steps of a dance, deciding whether the meeting gives rise to creation or separation.

Think of a crowded marketplace. People walk in all directions. A small change in someone’s step can lead to bumping into another, a conversation, maybe even a lifelong bond. In the same way, momentum directs the encounters of particles, and from those encounters new structures are born.

Momentum as Karma

If spin is the hidden poet of the cosmos, momentum is its karmic force. Once set in motion, it carries forward until acted upon. Just as karma propels a being through cycles of birth and rebirth, momentum propels particles through endless interactions.

The rishis said: “As you sow, so shall you reap.” In physics we say: “Momentum is conserved.” Both mean the same at heart: what is set in motion continues, weaving consequences through time.

Chance and Necessity

But why do particles change their momentum? Sometimes it is through collisions, sometimes through interactions with fields, sometimes through quantum uncertainty itself.

Science calls it probability. Darshana calls it play, or lila. In both cases, what begins as a slight uncertainty blossoms into rich variety. Without these uncertainties, the universe would be a dead, uniform block. With them, creation dances with diversity.

The One Flowing into Many

Seen deeply, momentum is nothing but the One flowing into the Many. At the root, there is stillness, the Brahman beyond movement. But when Brahman expresses as prakriti, motion begins. That first motion is momentum — the drive to expand, to scatter, to gather, to become.

Thus, momentum is not only a physical property; it is also a symbol. It is the cosmic urge to create, the primal breath of the universe.

Closing Reflection

So the next time you watch a river bend, or a gust of wind shift a leaf, remember: these are echoes of the earliest quantum pushes. The diversity of creation — galaxies, stars, life — was not written in stone from the beginning. It was written in the small, delicate changes of momentum, multiplied across the endless ocean of particles.

Momentum is the gentle nudge that became the grand design. It is the current that carried the universe from silence into song.

Closing Verse (Mantra-style)

From the smallest push, the vastest flow.
From the tiniest drift, the grandest design.
Momentum is the river of becoming,
Carving galaxies, cradling life.
O flowing current, O cosmic breath —
You are the motion that became creation.

Chapter 15 – The Energy of Creation

This chapter reveals the ultimate secret of the cosmos—a profound unification of the atom and the human being, both in the tangible world and in the realm of consciousness, ultimately demystifying Tantra. Here, the nucleus represents the core energy, like the Muladhara, while the electron shells correspond to the chakras, each level guiding the flow of energy and awareness. The dance of electrons mirrors the currents of prana, and the architecture of atoms reflects the structured ascent of consciousness. It is a journey where physics and spirituality converge, where the smallest particle and the vastness of human awareness are one, and where the mysteries of the universe unfold within and around us.

In the last chapter, we explored how mass gives weight and stability to the universe—how it anchors stars, planets, and even our own bodies, providing shape to creation. But mass alone is not enough. A stone may have weight, yet without energy it cannot move, shine, or evolve. The universe would be a silent sculpture, heavy but lifeless.

To bring that sculpture alive, nature needs another ingredient—energy.
If mass is the body of creation, then energy is its breath. Mass gives form, while energy gives play. Together, they weave the dynamic universe where stars burn, rivers flow, and life blossoms.

At the most fundamental level, everything is a play of energy. In the quantum world, particles are not fixed lumps of matter; they are waves of energy that rise, fall, and occupy specific levels inside an atom. In a similar way—though more metaphorical than scientific—human breath or prana is described in yogic traditions as rising, falling, and focusing on specific chakras. These levels decide the structure of reality itself—how atoms are built, how molecules form, how light interacts, and even how life becomes possible. In a similar metaphorical sense, the focus of a people’s breath or prana on different chakras is said to shape how they interact with the world—spiritually, intellectually, emotionally, playfully, lovingly, or even ignorantly. Imagine energy levels like the rungs of a ladder. A particle can occupy a lower rung or jump to a higher one, but it cannot linger in between. Each rung represents a discrete possibility offered by nature. The particle’s wavefunction assigns probabilities to each rung, often peaking near certain favored levels. When a quantum measurement occurs—or even when the particle interacts with its environment—it collapses to one of these rungs. If we clarify it further, An atom has fixed energy rungs where its electron can exist. Before any measurement or interaction, the electron is not tied to one rung but spreads out as a probability wave across several of the allowed rungs, depending on how it was excited. When collapse happens, this wave no longer stays spread out—the electron is found on one definite rung chosen from those present in the wavefunction. Electron transitions between energy rungs usually occur by absorbing or emitting photons, but can also happen through collisions, heat, or external fields. In every case, the interaction first collapses the wavefunction onto a definite rung and then shifts the electron to a new level uniquely determined by the energy gap. If the electron absorbs a single photon of known energy, the outcome is no longer a choice among many rungs—the fixed photon energy matches only one gap, so the electron must land on that specific rung. In very strong light, an electron can absorb multiple photons simultaneously, and because different combinations of the same fixed photon energy can match different energy gaps, several higher rungs may become possible, with wavefunction amplitudes weighting the probabilities and collapse determining which one is realized. This collapse is not a conscious choice, but an ego-less, natural selection dictated by probability and interaction. While a single event may seem insignificant, the collective activity of countless quantum particles accumulates and propagates, giving rise to the stability of matter, the formation of structures, and, ultimately, the grand architecture of the cosmos. Each tiny probabilistic selection—these primordial, nature-made choices—adds its thread to the vast cosmic tapestry. One should not call quantum particles or these events “experience-less” or “non-conscious,” for they occur within the all-pervading pure awareness, which is the form of endless experience and consciousness.

Similarly, chakras can be seen as the rungs of a ladder along the backbone. Energy is experienced most distinctly at the chakras, not in between them. The breath or prana may focus on a particular chakra depending on the body’s need to cope with the present environmental circumstances. This is a type of environmental interaction. This is somewhat like the quantum collapse of a particle, which interacts with its environment and chooses an outcome that best fits the situation—allowing not only itself to grow, but also to let all grow.

The Cosmic Blueprint in Energy Choices

Let us again take the atom as an example. Electrons around the nucleus do not roam aimlessly—they occupy specific energy shells. When an electron jumps from one shell to another within the same atom, it changes the atom’s behavior—how it reacts, absorbs light, or bonds—without changing the element itself. Hydrogen, with its single electron, is the simplest example: its electron in different shells clearly alters its properties. In multi-electron atoms, electrons in various shells can also shift, especially the outer (valence) electrons, affecting chemical behavior in more subtle ways. On the other hand, creating a completely new element requires adding more electrons along with additional protons, producing atoms like carbon, oxygen, gold, or uranium, each with distinct properties.

A similar principle is described in yogic science. Energy shifts between chakras may alter a person’s behavior for a time—spiritually, emotionally, or intellectually—yet the deeper personality remains unchanged. Only when greater energy is added through practices such as Kundalini Yoga, pranayama, asanas, or tantra can the subconscious impressions be dissolved or transformed, changing the personality. If the vacant space so generated is filled with a meditation image and awakened, it can lead quickly to self-realization, thus opening the hidden channel of energy fully and transforming one entirely. This is like adding protons and electrons to create a new element: the very structure changes.

Just as an atom finds stability when its positive protons and negative electrons are balanced, human consciousness finds harmony when the root (muladhara) and crown (sahasrara) energies are balanced. If energy gathers too much at the crown, one may feel ungrounded; if it sinks into the root, one may feel heavy and depressed. But when balanced, consciousness becomes steady, expansive, and capable of true transformation. Adding electrons and protons is like adding quantum energies of opposite natures: proton-energy is heavy and grounding, while electron-energy is light and liberating.

When an atom has more electrons than protons, it becomes a negatively charged ion, having captured extra electrons from its surroundings. When it has fewer electrons than protons, it becomes a positively charged ion, having released electrons to the environment. In nature, these exchanges balance themselves, forming bonds that stabilize matter. Similarly, in human beings, one who has more energy at the sahasrara than at the muladhara is naturally drawn to someone whose energy is stronger at the muladhara, and vice versa. This complementary balance or opposite pull is like a lame person riding on the shoulders of a blind man—together they benefit and move forward. Just as atoms bond by sharing electrons, human beings form relationships by sharing their energies, creating harmony and growth for both.

An electron rests in its ground state, stable and content at the lowest orbital, until a spark of energy lifts it to higher realms—yet it soon returns, releasing its borrowed light. So too, human energy dwells naturally at the muladhara, the root of stability, unless awakened by the fire of yoga, pranayama, or tantra or even healthy relationships. When charged with such force, it rises through the chakras, unveiling hidden awareness; but without sustained energy, it drifts back to its base. Thus, the dance of electrons mirrors the dance of prana—the journey between rest and awakening, between grounding and transcendence.

The attractive pull of the proton may be seen as Pingala, and the attractive pull of the electron as Ida channel. When both are in balance, the personality of the human-form atom remains steady and harmonious. If the electron pull dominates, the personality becomes floating and expansive, drawing others toward it to form bonds as most of the ordinary people are resting in muladhara, much like positively charged ions attracted towards the negatively charged ions to complete themselves. If the proton pull dominates, the personality turns ego-centered and heavy, weighed down by over-worldliness, and thus seeks a strong companion bond to supply the needed electron pull of expansivensess. In this way, the balance of Ida and Pingala mirrors the balance of charges in an atom, shaping both stability and relationships.

Neutrons, acting as the Sushumna of the atom, prevent protons from repelling each other that can lead to nuclear burst by producing the strong nuclear force that holds them together against their electrostatic repulsion. In the same way, Sushumna keeps a check on Pingala by attracting its energy and channeling it toward Ida for balance, while also taxing a little bit of its energy for the growth of awareness and stability. Metaphorically, neutrons thus indirectly help to push the electrostatic energy of protons toward electrons to maintain harmony, while consuming a part of it themselves—absorbing some binding energy—to keep the atom stable and even evolving through processes like nuclear fusion. This resembles the kundalini awakening in humans, where a fully new and improved personality appears—just as with nuclear fusion a new, larger, or more powerful atom can emerge with more number of protons, neutrones, electrons and orbitals. When Pingala is brought under control, Ida too becomes balanced, for both are relative and run on each other’s power. In this balanced state, protons do not fly away and electrons remain steady in their orbitals. It is like awakening would be impossible without Sushumna, just as stable fusion in stars would be impossible without neutrons holding nuclei together.

The nucleus of the human-form atom is the Muladhara, the powerhouse of energy that sustains all activity. Electrons circling around it represent thoughts and subtle energy, moving through various orbitals akin to the chakras. The higher orbitals correspond to higher chakras, culminating in the Sahasrara—the point of expansive consciousness. Nuclear fusion can be seen as the awakening of this system: an outburst of energy from the Muladhara surges upward through the chakras, activating them fully and giving birth to improved consciousness, where the new atom formed has larger flows of Ida, Pingala, and Sushumna, and a greater number of outer chakras, symbolizing expanded consciousness. Just as fusion releases immense energy by merging nuclei, kundalini awakening channels the latent potential of the Muladhara to the Sahasrara through the merging of Shiva and Shakti, producing a transformed, expansive, and enlightened state, with the chakras aligned and pointing toward the full expansion of consciousness. Even though both nuclei (or both Muladharas in a Tantric pair) are essentially of the same “type” or nature, for the purpose of attraction, union, and merging, they are treated as opposites as Shiva and Shakti—like complementary polarities that allow energy flow and unification. The legendary Brahmastra, fired by yogis such as Guru Putra Ashvatthama, can be seen as a similar awakening, but applied in the worldly domain—harnessing the same primal energy for external effect rather than inner transformation. Or it may be that the sages knew this psychological secret, reflected also in the physical material world, and expressed it both literally and philosophically through spiritual-metaphoric stories.

Electrons do not move gradually between orbits—they leap suddenly when enough energy is absorbed. In yoga, too, states such as dhyana and samadhi unfold in sudden leaps, not in slow crawling. This explains why enlightenment often feels like an instantaneous shift, even though the preparation may take years. You can determine the probability of an awakening occurring—how likely it is under certain conditions—but you can never predict the exact moment it will happen, just as in quantum mechanics where you know the probabilities of outcomes but not the precise result of a single event. The silent jump of an electron to a higher orbit can be likened to dhyana ripening gradually through repeated inner leaps between chakras—peaceful, steady, and gradually transformative. In contrast, the great surge of nuclear fusion resembles the moment when awareness itself flashes: the energy of the self previously bound and sleeping in muladhara suddenly leaps into pure, boundless consciousness, joining the endless expanse of full potential. In that momentary blaze, the atom also experiences boundless bliss and light, before stabilizing into a new, transformed, and evolved state—just as an awakened yogi shines with renewed being. It is exactly like Tantric Yoga, where the Muladharas of two loving partners merge, releasing an explosive surge of energy that rises from the base upward, piercing all the chakras, until it expands into the boundless infinity of the Sahasrara. Two nuclei merge to maximum extent but a small portion still remains unmerged that is converted to large amount of energy spreading upward. Similarly, both muladharas of a tantric couple share their energies with each other akin to merging as much as possible, but still some energy remains unmerged. Probably this extra energy left after merging manifests as awakening. In this sense, what tantra calls detachment can be seen as this unmerged residue of energy—preventing the partners’ energies from clinging completely, and instead redirecting the unified current upward for the awakening of the meditation image and self-realization. Just as in fusion, the unmerged part becomes the source of tremendous release, so too in tantra it is the subtle detachment that transforms love into awakening. Just as nuclear fusion requires intense heat to occur, tantric kundalini awakening too needs the inner heat generated by worldly activities, loving relationships, and the contemplation of non-dual philosophy such as Sharirvigyan Darshan.

People often perceive forbidden relationships as more thrilling because they are often formed in broad awareness of daytime, unlike genuine family bonds that society sometimes associates with duty or constraints, and often reserved for the ignorance-filled dark of the night when one is fully tired and exhausted due to roaming blindly and wildly amidst the so called job-jungle throughout the daytime for so called important livelihood activities, as if it is the least important work in the world so far. Even then it works fine more or less. What good not to expect if it is done in full awareness. Moreover, if family relationships were valued and nurtured openly in the light of day—with clarity, respect, and mutual understanding—there would be little attraction toward what is considered illegal. Just as nuclear fusion happens in broad daylight inside the sun—with full awareness, without secrecy, without being forbidden—resulting in the enhanced light of awareness, so too can lawful, harmonious bonds generate true fulfillment when embraced openly. Clinging to the external form of a partner without understanding the sameness of energetic essence in every human being is also a reason for attraction toward relationships outside the family. When Tantra shows its effect, this fact is properly understood and truly believed. Needless to say, I have seen near perfectly matching pairs go astray by not recognizing this deeper energetic essence and by being superficially swayed by egoistic patterns.

On the other hand, in the psychological fission, it is as if the neutron—the awakened sushumna of a potential partner—strikes the muladhara, the nucleus of the possible lover, and breaks it open into two. One half is the bunch of ego, while the other half is like the pure soul, suddenly lightened by shedding the burden of impressions. The energy that was once bound tightly within egoistic thoughts is now released and becomes available for awakening. Just as in nuclear fission the mass of the resulting nuclei is slightly less than that of the original, with the difference emerging as an immense burst of energy, so too the breaking of the ego releases a vast inner power. The mass of egoistic patterns shed is transformed into this energy. This surge of liberated energy flows upward, igniting awareness and transforming consciousness. Such a shift cannot occur through an ordinary bond; it can only be catalyzed by the presence of a partner whose sushumna is awakened, carrying the force to dissolve ego and redirect the released energy toward spiritual awakening. Just as nuclear fission does not require extremely high temperatures to occur, in the same way this indirect tantra does not demand the intense heat of passionate worldliness, unlike the fusion-form direct tantra described above. Can we, by extending this analogy, also discover a method of cold fusion—one that could solve the world’s energy needs forever? If nuclear fusion is the fiery union of energies and fission the breaking apart of burdens, perhaps the hidden key to cold fusion lies in the same mystery that tantra reveals—that energy, when rightly aligned, can be released without fire, silently transforming both the yogi and the world. But the problem with fission is the production of toxic radiation—just like the toxic thoughts that arise when love-filled relationships are made for breaking instead of union. If this is resolved, the energy problem is solved.

Moreover, this is not mere theory—by the grace of my guru and God, I have personally experienced both of these phenomena, receiving awakening glimpses through both fusion-like union and fission-like breaking apart.

Seeing the grand similarity between the atom and the body, it is not hard to believe that an atom can be understood as a complete human body in itself, just as these flowing chapters of Quantam Darshan have been asserting since the very beginning.

Repeating further, energy levels are like the blueprint of all diversity. Electrons can only exist in certain allowed energy levels around an atom’s nucleus, and these positions determine the atom’s behavior—how it bonds, reacts, or inter acts with other atoms. This arrangement shapes the molecules that form, deciding whether they become water, sugar, or DNA.

An atom’s energy levels can be imagined as the floors of a building, with electrons as tenants who can only occupy these designated floors. Lower floors fill up first, following specific rules, while the outermost floor—the valence level—holds the electrons that interact with the outside world and determine how the atom bonds or reacts. The energy gaps between floors act like elevator heights: small gaps allow electrons to move easily, while large gaps require precise energy input, such as from photons. Altogether, the number of floors, the arrangement of tenants, and the spacing between floors form a blueprint that dictates where electrons can be, how they can move, and ultimately how the atom behaves and interacts chemically.

On a much larger scale, the life of a star is determined by the nuclei of its atoms—the number of protons and neutrons—which dictate the nuclear fusion reactions in its core and whether the star burns steadily like our Sun or ends violently as a supernova.

In the heart of every star, life is sustained by hydrostatic balance—the delicate equality between the inward pull of gravity and the outward push of nuclear fusion. If fusion pressure runs ahead, the star swells outward until cooling slows the reactions and balance returns; if gravity takes the lead, contraction heats the core until fusion strengthens again. This harmony allows stars to shine for billions of years, but when their core fills with nuclei such as iron, which cannot yield net energy by fusion, no outward push remains to resist collapse. Gravity then crushes the core, sometimes into a neutron star, sometimes into a black hole, or in rare majesty, releasing all stored energy in a supernova explosion. So too in the inner cosmos: the body endures as long as prana, the fuel of life, sustains the balance between the contracting pull of ego and the radiant expansion of awareness. If awareness expands without grounding, the mind scatters; if ego contracts too tightly, consciousness suffocates into bondage. But in perfect equilibrium arises a steady luminosity—egoless quantum darshan, the inner sun burning without exhaustion. And when prana is finally exhausted at life’s end, the soul too meets its destiny: if awareness bursts free of ego’s last grip, liberation shines like a supernova, scattering individuality into the vastness; but if egoic gravity still outweighs, the soul collapses inward, bound like a neutron star or lost in the depths of a black hole—its journey continuing until balance is rediscovered.

Moreover, electrons and their energy levels play only an indirect role in this, influencing how radiation moves through the star. Without these energy levels setting the rules for electrons, nothing would take shape: no chemistry, no molecules, no planets, and no living beings to notice it.

The Drama of Quantum Jumps

Bringing the story to the fore again, you may have heard of the term “quantum jump.” It is not just a metaphor—it is a real event. When an electron absorbs or emits energy, it does not glide smoothly but suddenly leaps from one energy level to another. This jump is accompanied by light—what we call photons. And these photons are the messengers of creation, carrying information and energy across the universe.

Every ray of sunlight, every twinkle of a star, and every color in a rainbow arises from electrons making quantum transitions between energy levels. In stars and atoms, multiple energy levels exist, and the timing and path of each transition are probabilistic, giving photons a spectrum of colors and intensities—a whisper of the quantum world. In contrast, engineered systems like LED bulbs force electrons to drop across a single fixed energy gap, producing light of a steady wavelength and color. Whether probabilistic or fixed, each photon is still born from the same quantum rules, linking the microscopic choices of particles to the vast tapestry of creation.

Energy Levels and the Symphony of Life

If spin brought individuality and momentum brought direction, then energy levels bring structure. Consider the orchestra of life. Proteins fold into shapes, DNA forms a double helix, water forms crystals of ice—all because electrons collapse into specific energy levels, giving atoms predictable bonds and patterns.

Had these collapses gone differently, perhaps the chemistry of life would not exist. Imagine a universe where electrons never settled into stable shells—there would be no stable atoms, only chaos. Imagine a universe where energy gaps were wider or narrower—water might not exist, oxygen might not bind, and life as we know it could not breathe. Even sunlight would fail to power biology, because the energy of its photons would not match the molecular energy gaps needed for processes like photosynthesis or vision.

Thus, energy levels are not random—they are the stage upon which life performs.

Chakras as Quantum Energy Levels of Consciousness

If we dwell on the chakra–energy level analogy again, we find that in both the quantum world and the human subtle body, energy shows a natural tendency to move in waves. Just as quantum energy in bound systems oscillates as standing waves with crests and troughs, fitting only discrete levels, while free waves spread continuously yet obey the same quantum laws, Kundalini energy too bound in muladhar-sahasrar axis undulates like standing wave from left to right and back, as if sahasrar and muladhar are its two nodes where wave returns back and forth in a closed loop, energizing the chakras as it rises from Mooladhara to Sahasrara and back again going repeating the pendulum like movements. Movement of both is snake-like. It appears snake like when different chakras act as different nodes. standing wave from one node to next node is one loop or half of the full curvature of snake, the second standing wave from next to further next chakra is second loop or second half of snake’s full one curvature and likewise. It is just intertwined play of ida nd pingla. Similarly, serpent nature of standing electron wave is more visible in p-wave, when two loops of stnding waves join together. Though Kundalini is one serpent power, it expresses itself through two oscillating currents—Ida and Pingala—which spiral around the central Sushumna like twin serpents around a staff, much like the caduceus symbol. Each chakra can be seen as a different energy level, much like the quantized states of an atom, where energy is not continuous but arranged in distinct steps that require a “jump” for transition. Just as electron-energy manifests as different characters of the atom at different levels, prana-energy manifests as different characters of the human being at different chakras. In physics, energy levels are measured in electron volts, and the electron’s presence within each level forms a standing wave enveloping nucleus—a probability pattern revealing where it is most likely to exist. In yoga, these same principles appear as vibrational centers of prana and consciousness. Means any centre from muladhar to sahasrar may be activated as per probability wave distribution and favoring the points where amplitude of oscillations is high. Both show the same profound truth: energy moves in oscillations, rising and falling, before settling into harmonious unity of sushumna as collapsed particle.

It is truly experiential. When the brain is tired from work, it actually receives energy from the base in a wave-like fashion. Sometimes this energy moves alternately along the left and right sides, directly merging at the Ajna Chakra and energizing it. At other times, it rises only up to the Heart Chakra and merges there. There is no fixed rule that it must always ascend step by step through each chakra from bottom to top, although mostly it tends to do so.

A Universe Sculpted by Choices

Think of the entire cosmos as a vast painting. Spin provides the brush strokes, momentum provides the direction, but energy levels provide the colors. Each collapse decides which hue appears, how bright it is, and how it blends with others. Together, they form the masterpiece of stars, galaxies, and living beings.

The amazing part is that all this structure comes from simple binary choices at the quantum level—this energy rung or that one, up or down, here or there. Multiply these micro-choices over cosmic time, and you get the grand, diversified creation we live in.

Quantum Collapse – The Engine of Creation

At this point, we can see a deeper pattern. Spin, momentum, position, and energy levels are all qualities waiting to be decided. But nothing is determined until a collapse occurs. Quantum collapse is like the beating heart of the cosmos. It pumps out choices, moment by moment, and each choice builds on the last, driving forward the story of creation.

If there were no collapse, the universe would remain a haze of probabilities, a dream never waking. But collapse turns possibility into reality. It is the engine of creation, transforming silence into song, emptiness into form, and potential into life.

So when you feel the warmth of sunlight, sip a glass of water, or look at the colors of a flower—remember that all of it is born from the humble but profound act of quantum collapse at the level of energy. Without those invisible decisions, the visible world would never exist.

My Journey Through Sharirvigyan Darshan, Tantric Kundalini, and Self-Realization

Friends, this is one of my favorite posts, deeply experiential in nature and reflective of my lifetime spiritual journey. Ever since I began exploring meditation, I noticed a subtle yet profound distinction between thought-based contemplation and the deeper, formless stillness of awareness. Raman Maharshi often said it is better to engage in neti-neti or non-dual contemplation, yet I realized that these experiences — as blissful as they were — were still transient. Nirvikalpa samadhi, on the other hand, creates chidakash or ekarnava, a stillness that abides for longer periods, whereas contemplation alone only gives fleeting glimpses.

Eventually, I understood that to sustain even the transient experiences of ekarnava, one has to embrace breathlessness. Before I experienced keval kumbhak, even after Kundalini awakening, self-realization, and non-dual awareness through sharirvigyan darshan, I could not fully comprehend thoughtless awareness. Yet I had immense bliss, rest, satisfaction, and a feeling of completeness — all connected to subtle thought. I realized that bliss and non-duality connected with thought could not reach the final state of fully thoughtlessness.

This led me to a subtle but important insight: after self-realization and Kundalini awakening, and even sharirvigyan darshan, one can attempt to reach breath stillness more quickly, because the ego is already weakened and the body-prana system more prepared. In the same way, Ramana Maharshi had cautioned against forceful breath control without inner maturity. He emphasized that natural keval kumbhak arises only when the mind and ego are ready. Forceful suppression might temporarily quiet thoughts, but it does not destroy the ego and can create strain or attachment.

In my observation, thought stillness slows the breath but does not stop it sufficiently or for long periods, whereas breath stillness immediately calms the mind and lasts longer. This is because thought is like waves on the lake’s surface — you can quiet them, but the lake still moves underneath. Breath, however, is like the spring feeding the lake: if the source of movement stops, the surface cannot ripple. This shows why prana stillness (keval kumbhak) is far more decisive for sustained thoughtless awareness.

Ramana Maharshi often said, “Mind and breath arise from the same source. To still one is to still the other.” Ego is the hidden source of both. When the ego weakens, prana settles naturally; when prana is still, the mind has no fuel for thought. In deep states, breath is the shadow of the ego. This simply means that in ordinary, laborious worldly activities, breath reflects not only the ego but also the need for oxygen. During deep meditation without ego, the breath itself fades, and awareness abides in pure stillness — the chidakash or ekarnava.

I noticed subtle variations in breath depending on ego orientation. Unequal inspiration and expiration reveal ego tendencies:

  • Longer inspiration reflects inward, self-centered attention.
  • Longer expiration reflects outward, world-centered attention.

This aligns with the ida–pingala–sushumna play in yogic physiology:

  • Ida (left, inward) → longer inhalation → self-absorption.
  • Pingala (right, outward) → longer exhalation → outer engagement.
  • Balance in breath → equilibrium between ida and pingala → sushumna activation → mind quiets → doorway to sustained stillness. That is why it is said that when breath flows equally through the left and right nostrils, dhyana becomes fixed quickly. This is because equal inhalation and exhalation balance each other, leading to a natural stillness of breath.
  • The up-and-down movements of the breath reflect both the vertical and left-right movements of Ida and Pingala: up for the left, down for the right. Actually, Ida Nadi feels more inclined toward inhalation or upward breath movement, while Pingala feels more inclined toward exhalation or downward breath movement.It is amazing. The left nostril activating Ida does create a subtle left-side dominance in energy, and right nostril activating Pingala creates right-side dominance.

Even a single complete breath moves awareness up and down: inhalation lifts consciousness inward or upward, exhalation spreads it outward or downward. Prolonged breathing keeps awareness oscillating. Only when prana rests in sushumna, in natural breathlessness, does awareness remain steady. Sushumna means that the breath is neither moving up nor down, but stays in the center; it is neither in the left nor the right, but centrally aligned—this corresponds to the breathless state, or Kevala Kumbhaka. Breathing through the left nostril brings the sensation of the breath moving through the left side of the body and more upward, and breathing through the right nostril brings the sensation of the breath passing through the right side and more downward. When there is no breathing, it is self understood that the breath is flowing neither through the left nor the right nostril, neither upward nor downward. When there is no left-right sensation, it is self-evident that the breath is central, along the midline of the body or through the backbone. The sensation also confirms this. Along with it, when there is no up-down movement in the breathless state, the breath is understood to be in the central line, precisely at the midpoint of that line. “No up-down movement” does not imply prana is physically fixed at the midpoint; it means prana is static along the central channel. Feeling it at the midpoint is a perceptual focus, not a literal physical location. It is amazing psychology and terminology, sometimes confusing too. At first, I used to think of Sushumna as a special type of heavenly breath, never imagining a breathless state for a living being, but my experience now shows otherwise. This is why destroying ego, reducing breath oscillations, and balancing breath are crucial. Ego is notorious in producing duality. Yet, with sharirvigyan darshan, the ego feels hurt — the body is revealed as a non-dual, ego-less and detached living system, not as “me,” and that hurt is purification, loosening the ego’s grip.

In a nutshell, Keval Kumbhak (breath stillness) and Sushumna breathing are synonymous. Both are highly praised in the scriptures and regarded as the direct doorway to liberation as well as the source of supernatural powers. Yet, liberation itself is the supreme power — beyond all others. Strictly speaking, Sushumna breathing (when ida and pingla flows are equal) prepares the ground and naturally matures into Keval Kumbhak, so the two are inseparably linked stages rather than exactly the same.

When breath flows equally through both nostrils, it shows that Idā and Piṅgalā are balanced and prāṇa is entering the Sushumnā, creating the right state for meditation; when this deepens, the breath may stop on its own without effort—this is Keval Kumbhak, the natural peak of Sushumnā flow where prāṇa is fully absorbed and the yogi rests in stillness.

The insight of sharirvigyan darshan was a turning point for me. I realized why I was drawn toward Tantric Kundalini Yoga after practising it consistently: in Tantra, contemplation or thinking, beautification, care, respect, and love toward the body are of prime importance—just as in Sharirvigyan Darshan—thus both complementing each other at both the physical and spiritual levels, leading to progressive development. It is another amazement. The cells of the body live without claiming doership of work or enjoyment, so why should I? This shook the ego profoundly, and freed prana or energy for meditation. Sharirvigyan darshan gave me a contemplative base — a rational, embodied insight — while Tantric Kundalini Yoga liberated my world-entangled energy, allowing me to offer it to the meditation image. This image, nourished by freed prana, awakened and became alive before me, not just a mental visualization. That living image led to glimpse of self-realization.

The sequence of my journey — Darshan → Energy Release → Image Awakening → Realization — mirrors the Tantric map of jñāna-śakti (knowledge), icchā-śakti (will), kriyā-śakti (action), and śakti (energy/awakening):

  1. Sharirvigyan darshan gave me knowledge.
  2. My choice to pursue Tantric Kundalini Yoga provided will. Although it originated itself through practice of sharirvigyan darshan. It is the most amazing part. In majority of scriptures, will is forced that seldom succeeds.
  3. The practice itself — offering energy to the meditation image — was action.
  4. The awakened image and glimpse of Self-realization was the manifested energy, śakti.

This phenomenon is interpreted differently in various traditions:

  • Tantra sees the image awakening as divine Shakti appearing in form, a sacred manifestation.
  • Advaita Vedānta regards it as a transitional phenomenon; the image is only a springboard — awareness turning inward leads to direct realization.
  • Yoga Sutras classify this as savitarka samadhi, where meditation on form (image) is energized and luminous, leading toward nirvitarka (formless stillness).

Had I pursued Tantric Kundalini Yoga alone, without sharirvigyan darshan, I could still have achieved realization with great difficulty and after prolonged practice, even getting none because favourable conditions do not sustain for long. Even after getting plainly, I would have missed the extraordinary bliss, creativity, and worldly play that arose naturally when freed energy flowed into the meditation image during normal worldly activities. This illustrates the difference between the nivṛtti-mārga (ascetic vertical path) and pravṛtti-mārga (world-affirming spiral path) of Tantra:

  • Nivṛtti: rapid, inward ascent, ego dissolves quickly, but world’s richness may feel muted. But failing it, one may feel astrayed forever.
  • Pravṛtti: spiral, celebratory ascent, energy sanctifies worldly life while also piercing into realization — what I experienced.

In my path, Sharirvigyan Darshan provided a non-dual type of insight, while Tantric Kundalini Yoga freed the energy bound to latent thoughts and impressions. This happened through two processes: carrying the non-duality of Sharirvigyan Darshan to its peak, and knocking out hidden mental activities. In this way, the last drop of available energy was extracted, with which the meditation image became alive by itself—just like drinking that very energy, similar to Goddess Kali drinking the bowl of blood—leading to glimpse of Self-realization. The world itself became part of the practice, joyous and meaningful, not something to escape. My experience beautifully combined both liberation and enjoyment, embodying the Tantric principle of bhoga-apavarga-samyoga — the union of divine enjoyment and liberation.

This journey shows that self-realization, energy mastery, and meditation image awakening can converge naturally when knowledge, will, and action align, and when the ego loosens its grip. Breath stillness (keval kumbhak) and mind stillness become inevitable outcomes, leading to sustained awareness, ekarnava, and chidakash, where thought, duality, and oscillation finally dissolve.

In essence:

  • Sharirvigyan darshan shook the ego and freed energy.
  • Tantric Kundalini Yoga harnessed that energy for inward ascent.
  • Meditation image became alive, serving as the doorway to realization.
  • Breath and ego gradually stabilized, leading toward sustained stillness.
  • The world became a stage for bliss, not a distraction.

My journey exemplifies a harmonious path where insight, energy, and practice converge, showing that the Self can be realized not only in withdrawal but also in full-bodied, joyful engagement with life.

Chapter 14: The Mass of Creation – How Weight Gives Shape to the Universe

In the previous chapter, we saw how matter is not something separate from us but is already woven into our very sense of self. The particles that form our body and the stars above share the same fabric of existence, whispering that the universe is one continuous being.

But to move from this insight of oneness to the world of form, another question arises:
If everything is already me, then what decides the different shapes and roles matter takes?
Why does one part of the cosmos become a star, another part a tree, and another, me?

The answer lies in mass — the quiet sculptor that gives the self a body, the cosmos a shape, and energy a destiny.

The Weight That Anchors Creation

Mass is not a random gift given at collapse. It is the inborn property of a particle, written into the universe through the Higgs field. This invisible field fills all of space, and each particle interacts with it in a unique way. Some interact weakly, staying light, like the electron. Others interact strongly, becoming heavy, like the top quark. And some, like the photon, do not interact at all, remaining massless.

In this way, the Higgs field quietly determines the “responsibility” each particle must carry. Mass is fixed, permanent, and essential. Without it, all particles would rush through space at the speed of light, unable to clump, unable to form structure, unable to make worlds.

The Higgs field is like a cosmic university, and the Higgs bosons are its professors. Each professor evaluates the particles—the students—assigning them different weightages based on their character and abilities, shaping their place in the grand curriculum of cosmic engineering.

Collapse: From Possibility to Reality

If mass is fixed by the Higgs field, then where does superposition enter the story?

Here lies the subtle beauty. A particle’s mass is set, but its state — position, spin, momentum — can exist in a superposition of possibilities. Collapse is the act by which one possibility becomes actual. In this sense, collapse does not create mass, but it decides how mass-bearing particles arrange themselves to form the structures of reality.

If we clarify it further, Mass is a fixed intrinsic property of elementary particles and does not exist in quantum superposition. However, its influence appears through energy and momentum, which do remain in superposition and collapse upon measurement. In composite systems, or in special cases like neutrinos, superpositions of states with different effective masses can occur. Thus, mass also expresses itself only when collapse decides the final outcome—though not directly, but indirectly through energy and momentum.

This is like the mind. Our body is given to us — flesh, bone, and weight, already fixed by genetics, diet, and time. But our thoughts are in superposition, countless and fleeting. Collapse occurs when the mind chooses one thought and makes it into a decision. Just as collapse crystallizes one quantum possibility into reality, our decisions crystallize the flow of thought into action. The mass or weight of the body cannot show its effect if the mental choices collapsing into favorable decisions do not carry the body to jump over the grass-filled bag and compress it to make silage.

In other words, it is like a degree-qualified student who can only demonstrate the effect of his knowledge when he meets and interacts with people who need him—an outcome determined by the probabilistic superposition of his placement, energy, and momentum, collapsing into a favorable result. If the placement is favorable in a favorable college but his energy drains away due to illness or bad habits, his knowledge-weight will not show its effect to students. Even if both placement and energy are favorable, but he lacks momentum in the right direction, the result still won’t manifest. So you can imagine how many favorable conditions creation must have required—from the quantum level to today’s human society—for us to be mutually interacting through our laptops across the entire world. Truly amazing.

Thus, in Sharirvigyan Darshan, mass is like the body’s given clay, and collapse is like the potter’s hand shaping it into vessels of destiny.

Balloons in the Fairground

Imagine a grand fairground where countless balloons float in the air. Some are light and barely tethered, drifting wherever the wind pushes them. Others are heavy, filled with sand, falling quickly to the ground and forming clusters. This playful scene mirrors one of the most profound truths of our universe: mass decides clumping, and clumping decides form.

Without the Higgs field assigning weight, all balloons would drift endlessly. But with it, some anchor, some rise, and together they paint the diversity of the fairground.

The First Drops of Weight

In the earliest moments of creation, the universe was like a weightless ocean — full of energy but without anchors. Particles were massless sparks, rushing about freely. But when the Higgs field “switched on,” particles gained mass, as though dew had settled on an invisible web. Suddenly, energy was not only light but also heavy. It could now clump, gather, and begin to form structures.

Mass became the sculptor’s tool. Where there was none, everything stayed diffuse, a mist without boundaries. Where mass appeared, centers of gravity emerged, galaxies condensed, and stars found their birthplaces.

The Cosmic Balancing Act

Mass is not merely about heaviness — it is about responsibility. A particle with more mass pulls on its neighbors, like a magnet drawing iron filings. A lighter particle, on the other hand, slips past interactions, unnoticed, like a feather in the wind. A politically minded person, massive in every field of life, always attracts a crowd of people around him who are less massive. But those who are too thin or like feather-light—like beggars, who are truly deficient, or saints, always fulfilled but resting in pure awareness, the lightest of all—pass by unaffected by his massive pull.

Imagine a cosmic marketplace. Particles with greater mass settle down like merchants in the square, attracting customers (other particles) toward them. Those with less mass are like travelers, always moving, rarely stopping. Together, they create balance: the merchants giving centers of stability, the travelers ensuring motion and exchange. Without both, creation would tilt either into lifeless stillness or restless scattering.

The Sculptor of Diversity

Consider Earth. Its mountains, rivers, oceans, and living beings — all owe their existence to how mass was apportioned. If electrons had been a little heavier, chemistry would have danced differently, atoms might never have formed stably, and life as we know it might have been impossible.

If protons had been slightly lighter, stars might never have ignited fusion, and the Sun’s gentle warmth would not have shone on Earth. A small difference in mass is the line between a cold void and a living cosmos.

Mass and the Poetry of Form

Think of clay in the hands of a potter. Without clay, the potter’s wheel spins endlessly, but no vessel takes shape. Mass is like the clay of creation. It gathers, it holds, it allows form to be molded. The Higgs field provides the clay, collapse provides the shaping hand, and together they sculpt the universe. The spinning wheel is like pure awareness, yet it neither spins nor requires spinning, because here the particles, becoming metaphorical clay, move themselves to be shaped—unlike ordinary clay.

A stone mountain is nothing but clustered particles that carry mass. A drifting cloud is made of lighter forms, airy and mobile. The rhythm of form and formlessness, of solid and fluid, is written by the pen of mass.

Even non-physical has mass

Dark matter is invisible and non-physical, yet it has a non physical type of mass that never can be measured, may be it is encoded mass in the form of special streching of empty space. its gravity affects the visible cosmos. Similarly, invisible ghosts means bhūta, preta, ḍākinī, piśācinī, yātudhāna, kiśkindhika, and others described in ancient Hindu spiritual texts can be understood as subtle forces, like different types of dark matter, that influence the physical lives of people. Various remedial spiritual rites, yoga, mantras, and forms of meditation are practiced to alleviate their effects. These practices carry the soul of the practitioner closer to pure awareness, which is completely beyond all influences—even the gravity of this non-physical “dark matter.” Just as cosmic dark matter pervades everything but cannot touch the pure cosmic sky, so too do these forces fall short of reaching pure awareness.

Closing Image

Picture again the fairground of balloons. Some rise, some fall, some cluster, some drift away. Each balloon’s motion is shaped both by its given weight (from the Higgs field) and by the path it takes (decided by collapse).

So too in life: our body is our given weight, our thoughts are countless balloons, and our decisions are collapses that tether some while letting others drift. Had thoughts been as heavy as the body, they could not drift at will; we would not be able to let go of some while tethering the important ones, and making decisions would not be possible. Thus Creation itself is this delicate play of weight and lightness, attraction and release, collapse and freedom.

Thus, mass is not just about heaviness. It is the quiet architect of creation — the one who gives shape to the shapeless and anchors the dance of the cosmos.

This is how the Higgs field, superposition, and collapse together make the universe diverse, structured, and alive.

Chapter 13: From Matter to Self – How Everything You See Is Already You

The journey that began with seeing the atom not as something hidden or separate but as the very stuff of the body and world now opens into a wider understanding. Once it is understood that atoms are not something out there, but the very essence of blood, bone, and breath, then the next step naturally arises: if atoms make up all things, then all things are already part of the same self. It means, if the thinking body is conscious or self, then thinking or superposition and deciding or collapse of quantum particles — and everything made of them — are also conscious or self. Atom makes the cosmos, atom makes the body. So atom is the father of all, and every piece of matter is a brother to human. Matter itself begins to reveal its secret—that it is not lifeless dust scattered in space, but a mirror in which the conscious self finds countless disguises. It means, it is the same self taking on many different forms. Things once worshipped as possessions—car, house, food, money—are now seen in a new way, as if they are all showing the same one reality.

The common mind is accustomed to worshipping matter in fragmented ways. A vehicle is adored as a symbol of status, money as a guarantee of security, food as a source of satisfaction, and a house as a shelter of pride. Yet strip them of their labels, look deep enough, and they are only clusters of atoms dancing in familiar forms. The very same atoms pulse through veins as blood, hold bones together as calcium, breathe life as oxygen. What appears as external wealth and what circulates inside as flesh and thought are not two substances but one continuum. In this realization, a door opens that does not belong to any religion or creed, for the logic is plain: if all is built from one pattern or blueprint like vibrations, energy, superposition, collapse etc., then all is essentially one.

When the claim of ego is gently dropped, the discovery becomes more intimate. The person once seen as enemy also breathes the same air, shares the same atomic foundation, and moves under the same laws of cosmos. Hostility then melts, not because of preaching or command, but because opposition itself loses its reality. It is like watching two waves fight on the surface of an ocean, forgetting they are water through and through. The ocean never quarrels; it only plays or does Leela.

Maanavata se bada dharm nahin, kaam se badi pooja nahin; samasya se bada guru nahin, aur grihasth se bada matha nahin”—this secret verse, discovered and propagated by the author, directly reflects the principles of quantum science. Although not really discovered, but researched and understood, as it has persisted since ancient times in one form or another. The first line, no religion is greater than humanity, reflects how countless probabilities in quantum physics collapse into a single event near the peak of the probability wave. This peak represents the peak development of the creation. Humans have the peak level of grey matter to carry forward the creation to that height. This makes humanity the true religion of the quantum world. To reach this peak, quantum particles select the best or highest-valued option among many, just as the human mind collapses multiple thoughts into a single decision of utmost humane significance. Most probably this peak of humanity aligns with the peak of quantum probability wave in this or that way. Although this happens naturally by quantum law, the human ego grows and claims that it was ‘I’ who did it. Suppose Ramu is living in Shimla with his family. Now consider the whole cosmos as a probability wave of his position. In theory, he could choose to live anywhere in the cosmos, but why only at his present place? Even this is fully true in practical terms too, a human can be reborn in that specific part of the infinite cosmos where its existence best serves the purpose of humanity. This is because the highest human potential for work and business is usually at familiar places, with accustomed and supportive people such as family members, friends, and relatives. When this potential for humane work declines at his native place, he has to migrate—just as countless people migrate elsewhere for the same reason. However, shifting always happens toward a favorable place, much like quantum particles relocating to a new position near the peak of the probability wave as the peak of humanity wave, and not arbitrarily. This is clearly seen in quantum tunneling, when a quantum particle shifts from one side of a barrier to the other, landing most likely at the peak of its probability wave. The particle does not actually travel physically; it is as if it ‘dies’ in one universe and is ‘reborn’ in another, more suitable universe, where it can contribute more effectively to the service of creation and humanity. That decision or wish to relocate becomes mental work, and its result expressed in action becomes physical work—together forming the only genuine worship of the quantum world, free from hypocrisy or flattery. Hence, no worship is greater than work, second verse of the joint verse is proved. The third verse, no guru is greater than the problem, shows that guidance does not come from outside only. A quantum particle adjusts and learns by interactions with other particles and overcoming obstacles; in the same way, humans grow by social interactions and solving problems in the service of humanity. The final line, no hermitage is greater than family life, explains that if quantum particles remained forever dissolved in stillness of pure awareness without interacting with other particles, or if one stayed only in Nirvikalpa Samadhi away from social interactions, no world could exist. Life continues because creation expresses itself through family and duties. Also, as told above, humanity grows best in a family type cooperative environment. In this way, the verse applies equally to the quantum realm, the macrocosm, and human society. Yes, interactions between cosmic bodies like stars and galaxies are similarly based on this quantum verse. The author lived this truth in letter and spirit, learning indirectly from the quantum world with the help of this so called quantum verse, attaining the essence of Karma Yoga along with glimpses of Kundalini awakening and self-realization. Beyond this stage, one may pursue Nirvikalpa Samadhi, but it remains optional—for one can also remain in Karma Yoga and Sahaj Samadhi always. Though few may reach such a nirvikalpa state, their indifference to worldly show does not harm the world’s activity; instead, their journey benefits society when others follow their footsteps from the very beginning, and not by trying to enter directly into samadhi. Since it is directly linked to the quantum world, this verse qualifies to be called a quantum verse.

If we dissect quantum behaviour further, every quality of a quantum particle exists as a separate probability wave, and these waves are independent, not interfering with one another. Similarly, each aspect of human life—where one is born, whom one marries, what profession one follows—arises in uncertainty independently. No one knows beforehand where a person will be born, but wherever it is, it carries the potential to contribute best to humanity. Marriage too is uncertain, yet it naturally aligns in a way that serves the larger good. A person may be born in a royal family and marry into poverty, yet both possibilities are part of the same unfolding toward humanity’s peak. One may appear inborn poor yet hold the role of a company’s CEO. In truth, it is the wave of humanity itself that determines these outcomes. If mutual relationships seem to appear among the different “waves” of life, it is only because they all are guided by that larger wave of humanity. Relationships among them are secondary; the primary movement is always toward the flowering of humanity.

This truth as told above deserves repeating: no guru is greater than a problem. In the quantum world, a particle is not instructed from outside—it learns by meeting resistance, by facing tension, by adjusting itself again and again. So too in human life, real challenges often teach more than any teacher. A problem can sharpen the mind, melt away pride, and give lessons that even the best guru cannot always sustain. Of course, the role of a human guide is valuable, but it is never enough on its own. Progress needs willingness, and though willingness can be encouraged by a teacher, it must finally rise from within. True growth comes from balancing the guidance of an external guru with the inner guru of lived experience. Returning once more to the verse, it concludes: no hermitage is greater than family life. If particles were to dissolve forever in stillness, nothing could appear—no world, no movement, no life. Creation is alive because stillness agrees to move, because silence becomes sound, because the inner withdrawal returns outward as relationship and duty. In the same way, family is not a barrier to realization but the very field where realization ripens. The home itself becomes the monastery, and daily life becomes the true ground of awakening.

As said above, the author of this vision did not leave these quantum truths as dry philosophy. They were lived, tested, breathed. Karma Yoga was not a slogan but a way of cleansing. Problems were accepted as teachers. Work itself became worship. This approach opened a doorway where the currents of Tantric Kundalini stirred, bringing glimpses of awakening and self-realization—achieved not in isolation, but alongside the fulfillment of worldly duties, obligations, and tangible physical progress. The body, when seen with clarity, is no longer only biology; it becomes Sharirvigyan Darshan—the science of body as mirror of cosmos and human behaviour. What nature has inscribed in the workings of cells is echoed in human society and even in cosmic evolution. Digging deeper, the pulse of metabolism reflects the pulse of stars, and the pattern of neurons echoes the pattern of galaxies. It means, steady pulse of metabolism in every cell reflects the pulse of stars, which are born, shine, and fade in cosmic cycles. Likewise, the intricate branching of neurons in the brain strikingly resembles the web of galaxies stretched across the universe. The tiny rhythms within us are not separate from the vast rhythms of the universe. Seen this way, the body is not an isolated fragment but a miniature cosmos, repeating on a small scale the same patterns that shape the stars and galaxies on the grandest scale.

Basic Sharirvigyan Darshan has already shown how viewing simple similarities between body cells and human behavior reveal unexpected wisdom. For instance, cells communicate, compete, cooperate, and balance survival with sacrifice—just as communities do. And when this insight is not merely thought but lived, its power is astonishing. The author, guided by such a karmic-yogic mindset, found the doors of Kundalini Yoga opening naturally, as if the body itself rewarded sincerity with vision. A glimpse of the serpent power uncoiling and rising gave a direct taste of unity, an experiential confirmation that the science was not mere speculation. Advanced Sharirvigyan Darshan dares to go further, suggesting parallels not only between cells and society but between atoms themselves and human workings. If atoms and human actions are reflections of each other, then studying one becomes a way to understand the other. When the physical parallels are seen, and the mind rests in egoless wisdom, truth is both confirmed and experienced. This idea is not yet fully tested, but its promise is immense. It suggests that life is like a play in which every moment and every particle reflects the whole. Time and space themselves are holographic, where each fragment carries the imprint of the entire universe. Just as in a hologram each fragment carries the complete image. It means, even a single fragment of endless time and endless cosmos reflects the whole of time and cosmos itself, showing that each passing instant and each quantum of space occupied by the quantum particle holds within it the signature of eternity. Therefore, it is possible to experience eternity at every moment and at every place by experiencing similarity between cosmos, human body and quantum particle.

Basic Sharirvigyan Darshan as indicated above, authored by the same author, has been well described in the published work The Mythological Body – A New Age Physiology Philosophy [Sharirvigyan Darshan]. Originally written in Hindi, it is thoughtfully translated here into English to make its insights accessible to a wider audience while preserving the depth and essence of the original. The work explains the striking similarities between the internal physical structures of the human body—cells, organs, and systems—and human behavior as well as societal dynamics. It demonstrates how patterns governing the body, such as communication, cooperation, competition, and balance, are mirrored in human actions and social organization, offering a unique lens to understand life as a reflection of universal principles. Extending this insight, the human body itself can be seen as the supreme living mandala, a microcosm containing countless dehapurushas—miniaturized, non-dual beings that work in perfect harmony, mindful yet unattached. Observing and contemplating these inner beings teaches lessons in non-duality, cooperative society, and even the nurturing of nature, while also serving as a practical and powerful gateway to Kundalini awakening and liberation. Through this understanding, the body becomes both a mirror and a guide, showing how true spiritual growth occurs naturally within the world, without the need for forced renunciation, and how life itself can gently lead one to detachment once a threshold of inner realization is reached.

In this way the story of matter becomes the story of self. The universe that appears vast, cold, and external softens into intimacy. A stone is not alien; it is kin. A stranger is not separate; he is the same play of atoms as the hand that writes. Even loss begins to transform, for nothing can truly vanish; it only reshapes its disguise. This realization does not demand retreat into caves or cloisters, though that too may be chosen. It equally allows one to remain in Karma Yoga, to live in Sahaj Samadhi—an effortless harmony where the ordinary world is no longer a trap but an open field for action without entanglement.

The thrill of this adventure is that it unites opposites. It makes science and spirituality kiss where they once seemed strangers. Quantum collapse becomes a metaphor for human decision. The activity of cells becomes a mirror of society. Family life becomes the monastery of the modern seeker. Every corner of matter becomes a temple because it is none other than the self in costume. Awe arises not from imagining miracles beyond reach but from seeing the miracle that is already present in every sip of air and every grain of dust.

See the brick fixed in the wall: its quantum particles have chosen to stay grouped, solid, and unmoving for years. For what? Only for humanity—enduring the suffering of weather as silent penance. What greater austerity than this? Its work of supporting the house is constant and unwavering. Living in a large family of bricks, it eases its burden through close interaction with its companions. In the heat of summer, it expands, releasing excess energy; in winter, it shrinks, huddling with others like family members conserving their shared vitality. In this way, it learns from environmental challenges how to adapt and interact to minimize suffering. This is not mere material behavior—it is cosmic psychology, inseparable from human psychology.

The mystery is not diminished by this understanding. Rather, it deepens. To see that everything is self is not to reduce it to a mechanical formula, but to watch the play of disguises with wonder. Why should the self choose to appear as tree, as river, as mountain, as laughter, as sorrow? The answer may never be pinned down, and perhaps that is the beauty. Mystery is not something to be destroyed by knowledge but to be embraced by deeper seeing. Just as a child never tires of looking at the ocean though it is only water, so the awakened mind never tires of looking at the world though it is only self.

I am pointing to the presence of Self in every particle, because only Self—consciousness—can think and decide as we do. What is non-Self is non-conscious. Thus, Self is synonymous with consciousness, while non-Self is synonymous with non-consciousness. In this way, there is nothing truly non-Self or non-conscious in the cosmos, for even quantum particles display a kind of choice or decision, reflecting the presence of consciousness. Everything is conscious. It has been strongly advocated by sanatan dharma where everything is worshipped.

The path from matter to self is not an abstract riddle but a lived possibility. The car parked on the street, the money folded in the pocket, the house filled with voices, the bread broken at the table—all are matter. But in a deeper gaze, they turn, shimmer, and reveal the self. It is the same journey atoms take when they become flesh, the same journey flesh takes when it becomes awareness. And from awareness arises again the sense of world. Round and round the circle turns, not to trap but to liberate, once the play is recognized.

Thus, the thirteenth chapter stands not as a conclusion but as an opening into a greater adventure. From atom to body, from body to world, from world to self, and from self again to cosmos, the circle is complete yet always expanding. The invitation is not to escape this dance, nor to be drowned in it, but to stand in its heart, free, luminous, at play—where everything seen is already the self in countless forms.

And yet, if everything you see is already you, what gives this shared self its many shapes — stars, rivers, mountains, and bodies? The answer lies in mass, the quiet architect that turns the oneness of matter into the diversity of form.

Harnessing Inner Silence: A Yogic Approach to Stress

I often feel that the best way to understand the working of the mind is to compare it with something everyone has seen in daily life—a television set. A TV screen looks simple: you switch it on, and pictures appear, but behind those pictures is a dance of invisible electromagnetic signals. Science tells us that these signals are nothing but waves of energy, and the TV has the ability to catch them and convert them into clear images. In the same way, our mind also catches signals. These signals are not coming from a satellite or broadcasting tower but from inside us—from our own emotions, thoughts, desires, and karmic tendencies. When these mental electromagnetic waves strike the inner screen of our awareness, pictures of experience appear. It could be joy, anger, worry, love, or fear, but the process is similar. Consciousness plays the role of the TV screen, and the mind keeps throwing waves of energy onto it.

The more emotionally charged we are, the stronger these waves become. A small irritation in the mind produces a faint image, but a burning anger or deep desire produces a very sharp and lasting picture. Just as a powerful broadcast fills the whole TV screen with brightness and color, a strong mental wave engraves itself on our inner screen with force. These impressions do not go away easily; they leave behind stains that we call samskaras or karmic seeds. Over time, the mind keeps collecting these charges, like a capacitor storing electricity. If the charge remains unprocessed, the same patterns keep repeating—old memories replay, reactions arise automatically, and inner conflicts become stronger. The result is a restless, noisy screen where one hardly sees clearly.

Yet, there is a miracle hidden in this very mechanism. Through yogic insight and practice, these waves can be stilled and transformed. Instead of becoming deeply emotional, amplifying the waves, and then either burying them in the subconscious or scattering them outward through speech and restless action, the energy of thought can be quietly conserved through sharirvigyan darshan contemplation. It no longer surges as an uncontrolled wave on the surface, nor does it sink irretrievably into the subconscious; rather, it settles as a silent charge a little deeper within. Energy at this depth remains accessible—ready to be uncovered and transformed through yoga—whereas energy buried too deeply by strong, uncontrolled, and painful emotions becomes difficult to reach or work with in ordinary life. This is like electricity stored in a battery—not being wasted in a running fan or bulb, nor going too too deep to be retrieved, but waiting silently, full of potential. In my own practice of Sharirvigyan Darshan-based Karma Yoga, I witnessed this transformation. Normally, thoughts rise and immediately push us into speaking, moving, or reacting. But when I practiced awareness-in-action, I did not allow them to flare out. I did not suppress them either; I simply let them reduce into a silent potential. This potential felt like an electric field—not noisy or oscillating, but alive and calm. When it accumulated sufficiently, it produced a strange kind of pressure in the mind—calm, blissful, yet sometimes accompanied by occasional headaches that could even last for a long time. At times, this excess silent energy would suddenly release itself, giving me a glimpse of samadhi or awakening, whatever one may call it. What made it remarkable was that it did not happen through withdrawal from the world but right in the midst of karma, simply by shifting my attitude toward action through Sharirvigyan Darshan. That made it even more precious for me, because it happened without leaving ordinary life behind.

The challenge is that this potential charge cannot remain suspended forever; life keeps pulling us back. If it is not consciously dissolved through sitting meditation, dhyana, tantra, or self-inquiry, it reactivates into waves as soon as ignorance-filled worldly activity begins without the guidance of Sharirvigyan Darshan. Yet one cannot keep contemplating Sharirvigyan Darshan endlessly, because with prolonged practice the mental pressure can grow uncontrollable, forcing one to abandon it. To be safeguarded from this, the excess pressure needs to be discharged through sitting yoga—primarily through tantra yoga—by channeling all the stored charge into a single meditation image. This awakens the image swiftly and can grant a glimpse of self-realization.

In savikalpa dhyana, the energy smoothens into deep absorption through a meditation image, while in nirvikalpa dhyana, it merges even more directly—through keval kumbhak—into pure awareness. Without such conscious dissolution, the stored charge eventually finds unconscious routes of discharge, appearing as impatience, ego, or restlessness. If this is true over the long term—after decades of Sharirvigyan Darshan-based Karma Yoga—it is equally true in the short term, during a single sitting of energy work. That is why I found it important to sit silently after daily practice, without rushing back into activity. An hour or two of stillness after yoga allowed the inner field to settle and release naturally in silence, rather than spilling into unconscious reactions. Otherwise, failing to channel the stored energy is like collecting rainwater carefully only to let it leak away through a broken vessel, or seep so deep underground that it becomes irretrievable.

The difference between yogic charge and ordinary worldly charge is subtle but crucial. Worldly charge is like stuffing garbage into a cupboard—on the surface, things may look organized, but inside, toxins are building up. These repressed charges eventually cause psychological confusion or even physical illness. Yogic charge, on the other hand, is like distilling water until it becomes pure and transparent. In fact, it is not fresh charge but the resurfacing and purification of buried charge. It doesn’t add a new burden; it slowly releases what is already there, refining it into silence.

Charge generated through Sharirvigyan Darshan-based Karma Yoga works in a similar way. Although it does create fresh charge, it first purifies it through non-dual awareness and detachment. Unlike impure worldly charge, which seeps deep into the subconscious, karmayogic pure charge remains on the surface and can be easily channeled. It also never feels heavy like ordinary worldly charge.

When I practiced with bodily awareness in a calm environment, I saw this clearly. My emotions would rise, but instead of identifying with them, I stayed aware. Outwardly, I was as active and expressive as before, yet inwardly there was silence—as if the waves had transformed into pure charge. No one could have guessed that I was containing so much energy within. It was entirely mental; physically, I was fully engaged in worldly life. That inner quietude was powerful, luminous, and gave me an intuitive understanding that no book could ever teach.

Even brief moments of such inner silence left a permanent mark, like a cascading effect that continued to unfold long after the sitting meditation or a Karma Yoga–based dynamic meditation, both in their own way equally. Silence grows upon silence, each pause deepening into the next, because it is both blissful and strangely addictive in its purity. Once, for about ten seconds, all the inner waves dissolved into the field of pure awareness. In that moment, there was no difference between the waves and the ocean, no division of experiencer and experienced — everything was non-dual. That short glimpse proved more valuable to me than years of ordinary experience, for it carried a weight and certainty that no external proof could provide. It revealed that even a fleeting contact with silence plants a seed that begins to grow of its own accord, quietly shaping the inner landscape. It also clarified that the real purpose of sadhana is not to chase after visions, energies, or sensations, but to refine one’s accumulated charge into a state of quiet potential that naturally opens into samadhi. Over time, as the brain becomes accustomed to holding this subtle current, the potential no longer feels heavy or overwhelming but grows fluid and light. This refinement allows life to be lived with a freedom and clarity untouched by restlessness, as if silence itself has become the ground upon which every experience moves.

This helped me understand viveka and vairagya in a practical way. Viveka is simply the ability to discern which impressions are beneficial and which are harmful, because in silence the mind becomes transparent and a better judge. The Sāṅkhya-based puruṣa–prakṛti viveka is this same practical viveka: the world with attachment (prakṛti) is denied, while the world without attachment (puruṣa) is accepted. Vairagya is not about running away from life, but about engaging without clinging — since the inner charge is no longer restless, it does not grasp at anything for relief.

Slowly, I began to see that the yogic path is not mechanical at all. It is not about forcing bliss or controlling every thought, but about a deep sensitivity to how one’s inner charge is forming and expressing. When the mind is charged in the yogic way, even a small stimulus is enough to enter dhyāna. This happened to me: I was deeply charged with my meditation image, and when my kin spoke about it, that small stimulus instantly awakened me into self-realization. Just as a charged particle produces a wave instantly with a slight movement, a charged mind can sink into meditation with minimal effort. In contrast, an uncharged mind must struggle first to build that energy before it can focus. Conversely, if the mind is charged in a worldly way, even a small stimulus can push it into blind worldliness.

I also noticed that the same applies in worldly life. An officer who has been given charge of an office can act immediately, while a stranger in the same chair will spend weeks just figuring things out. In the same way, a stretched canvas can take paint beautifully, while a loose canvas must first be stretched. A charged brain is quick to respond with thoughts, while an uncharged brain — like that of a nirvikalpa yogi absorbed in silence — takes much longer to respond. To the outside world, that silence may appear dull or even boring, but within it is blissful. The paradox is striking: first one builds the charge to attain self-realization and nirvikalpa samadhi, and then one lets go of all charge in renunciation. Yet even after self-realization and nirvikalpa samadhi, karmayogis continue to cultivate yogic charge in moderation, using it as needed to remain engaged in worldly life without drifting away from it entirely.

For me, the most important realization was that stress itself is a form of charge. The difference is only in its quality. Worldly stress is heavy and destructive, while yogic stress—or yogic charge—is light and releasing. Both are stretches in the fabric of inner space, but one binds and the other frees. My personal journey showed me that the same mind that suffers under chaotic charge can also shine when that charge is refined into stillness. What matters is not to let the waves scatter outward or bury them in deeper layers but to reduce them gently into potential. That potential becomes the gateway to silence, to freedom, and ultimately to samadhi.