My post

Sanatan Dharma as Lived Experience: When Scriptures Become a Life

A personal preface

This is not a claim, not a declaration of divinity, and not an attempt to place myself above any tradition. This is only a record of lived experience — how scriptures, relationships, stages of life, and inner practices unfolded naturally inside one ordinary human life. I write this because many people think our scriptures are theory, mythology, or outdated philosophy. My life has shown me that they are a practical way of living, happening even in the age of supercomputers, aeroplanes, and high technology.

If divine permission comes, a full book may come later. For now, this is the nutshell — for curious readers who want to understand how Sanātana Dharma actually works in living human beings.

Scriptures are not theory — they are living maps

I have seen that the great god lineages are not isolated historical events limited to one time and place. They are stages of human spiritual evolution that keep happening again and again, everywhere, in different people, in different forms. That is why this dharma is called sanātana — eternal — unlike systems tied to one prophet, one story, or one century.

Technology does not block these stages. A needle, an aeroplane, a supercomputer — none of these stop consciousness from evolving. Outer tools change, inner laws do not.

The Śiṣya phase: childhood discipline and listening

My first phase was the śiṣya phase, in childhood.

I was an observer by nature. Disciplined. Non-revolting. Whatever teachers and elders taught that felt good and right, I accepted happily and with devotion, without criticism. I now see that this phase is common to all great lineages — before anyone becomes a knower, they must become a learner.

Rama, Krishna, Buddha, Shankara — all began as disciples. Ego must soften before it can dissolve.

Dada Guru: the power of sound and atmosphere

My grandfather used to read scriptures aloud for hours every day to listeners. Those words falling on my ears shaped my inner world long before I understood them. I did not study scriptures — I absorbed them.

That is why I call him Dada Guru.

He did not give me a mantra, but he gave me atmosphere, rhythm, reverence, and sound — śabda-brahma. Those sounds later pushed me naturally toward practical living, not theoretical belief.

Krishna phase: adolescence, attraction, and refined desire

In adolescence came the Krishna phase, lasting about 1–1.5 years during senior secondary school. This phase was intense and energetic — attraction to girls, being attracted by girls, social charm, indirect sexual fun — but never vulgar indulgence.

The purpose was not enjoyment but learning the essence of kāma. Attraction was raised but held in a sattvic environment, with social distance and inner discipline. Slowly, attraction turned into bhakti. A meditation image developed by itself in the mind — Radha and Krishna appearing in each other — and this led to spontaneous samādhi, exactly as described in Bhāgavata Purāṇa through the gopīs.

This phase cannot last long; it is too volatile and needs continued physical presence. The continued physical presence of attracting partners became difficult to tolerate, and maintaining control by consciously preventing physical contact for long periods required great inner discipline. But it is essential. Without it, later renunciation becomes dry and incomplete.

Shakti / Durga phase: courage, love, and inner femininity

After Krishna phase came the Shakti phase, lasting nearly five years during university life, and continuing even after marriage due to the support of my wife.

Internally, I lived a feminine reality — sensitivity, softness, devotion — while externally I became brave, ready to fight evil in sattvic, nonviolent, tactical, and lawful ways. This is the Durga function: courage without brutality, strength without hatred. Together, the meditation image of the mental consort anchored in the mind matured even further — not merely as a thought, but as a fully living inner presence, just as Radha lived within Krishna even in her physical absence, and even while he was living his worldly life with his wife, Rukmini. In Vaishnava understanding, Radha is the hlādinī-śakti — the inner bliss-consciousness of Krishna — and when sustained joy, devotion, and fullness arose naturally from this meditation image, that experiential bliss could be understood as the same hlādinī current described in the scriptures. It was not an identity or a divine claim, but the recognition that a human inner process was unfolding exactly as the ancient maps had described: bliss arising from continuous remembrance and inwardly residing devotion.

I succeeded a little — not by force, but by alignment, what I call divine help.

Life as gurukula: gods as living people

I slowly realized that gods did not come from heaven — they came through people around me.

A naughty relative boy living at our home carried the Krishna role.
My father carried the Rama role — discipline, responsibility, order.
My uncle carried the Shiva role — depth, silence, detachment.
All the sweet girls who were part of attraction carried the Shakti role.

These were not fantasies. They were living transmissions. I merged all these roles into one integrated life. It felt as if all gods joined their powers to destroy one demon — ignorance.

Shiva phase: tantra, isolation, and upward energy

When Shakti phase reached its peak, worldly energy naturally declined and pushed me into isolation. This was the beginning of Shiva phase.

Shiva here means not only worldly isolation but tantric transformation — raw base energy rising as Kundalini toward awakening. As energy turned upward, my inner imagery changed: the feminine consort image was replaced by a male guru image. This gave me the feeling of being male again, grounded and directed.

To the world, this can look strange or misunderstood. But it was not indulgence or confusion — it was pure Kundalini meditation in tantric style, where imagery changes to match energy direction.

This Shiva phase is most dominant in my recent books because it is the most recent and intense lived phase. Older phases are less vivid and more integrated.

Rama phase: rest, order, and balance (still unfolding)

The Rama phase has just begun.

After kevala kumbhaka and small glimpses of nirvikalpa-type samādhi, this phase appeared. Rama literally means rest, āram, balance. It is not heroic drama; it is stable living after turbulence.

This phase cannot be written fully yet because it must be lived fully first. It will come as the final integration stage. Now it is up to the divinely operating world to decide how long it allows me to remain settled in this phase, though there is no doubt that personal effort also matters.

Why the world misunderstands these experiences

People see only sexuality, repression, gender, or indulgence. They do not see sublimation. That is why tantra was always kept subtle and symbolic.

I never say “I am Shiva” or “I am Krishna.” I say: that phase unfolded. Language is the thin line between wisdom and misunderstanding.

Final understanding: Sanātana Dharma is human evolution

My life has shown me that scriptures are not to be believed — they are to be lived.

They are maps of consciousness written in symbolic language. When lived, they dissolve ignorance naturally.

I am not above humanity. I am an example of how humanity evolves when sound, discipline, love, and relationships support growth.

If divine permission comes, a book will come. Until then, this blog is the nutshell — a lived proof that Sanātana Dharma is eternal because it is always happening.

Four Incarnations, Four Pillars of One Building
(Why All Paths of Sanātana Dharma Are Complementary, Not Opposing)


These four Sanātana incarnations are like the four pillars of a single building. Just as a building cannot stand if even one pillar is missing, the sense of wholeness and salvation does not feel achievable unless all these forms are embodied within a single person. This also reveals a deeper truth: the many sects and paths of Sanātana Dharma are not rivals or contradictions, but complementary forces. Even Sikhism and Jainism, which fully support Rama-like ideals of character, can be seen as sects or streams of the single Hindu civilizational tradition, rather than completely separate religions. If we expand this understanding further, even religions such as Islam and Christianity can be seen, in a broader sense, as supporting branches of the same eternal flow—so long as they uphold humanity, compassion, and moral order. In that sense, they are not completely unconnected from other dharmic streams, but participate in the same universal movement toward righteousness, truth, and human upliftment, each expressing it through its own language, symbols, and historical context. Just as the pillars together support one structure, these traditions together support one human awakening — and this is exactly how they have always functioned in living practice.

When Motion Reveals Nonduality: A Travel Darshan from Sky, Forest, and Ocean

A Journey That Was Not Just Travel

This was a family trip to coastal areas. We went by aeroplane, stayed near the sea, walked among coconut trees, and spent time watching waves. Outwardly, it looked like a normal vacation. Inwardly, something subtle unfolded. Nonduality became more visible — not through meditation, not through effort, but through motion.

I noticed that when the world moved fast, the sense of separation weakened. The faster and more total the movement, the more clearly nonduality revealed itself.

Aeroplane: Nonduality at High Speed

The aeroplane felt special. Not just because it was high, but because it was top in motion. When you sit inside a flying machine, your body is moving but you are not acting. Motion happens through you, not by you. The ground, clouds, distance, time — all flow together. Motionless non-living joins with the in motion living producing nonduality. Human considers motion as sign of life instinctively.

In this state, fixed reference points disappear. The mind cannot hold divisions. Living and non-living begin to mix. Metal, engine, sky, body, breath — everything moves as one system. This mixing itself produced nonduality.

I realized something important: motion is the primary quality of the living world. When non-living objects join a living motion-field, separation collapses. The aeroplane became a form of moving samadhi — a dynamic samadhi. It was not stillness, but total flow.

When I added quantum darshan to this perception — the understanding that at the deepest level there is no real separation between matter and life — nonduality reached near its peak.

Not the absolute peak, because motion still remains. But the highest possible nonduality within movement.

The second amazing movement of the plane is its upward rise, which feels like rising kundalini energy toward sahasrar. Sahasrar symbolically represents nonduality, bliss, and awakening, so this upward motion naturally evokes the same sense of expansion and release.

Coconut Trees: When Matter Looks Back at You

At the coast, coconut trees appeared intensely beautiful. But not because they had some special beauty different from other objects. Their beauty came from recognition.

Their shape is human-like:

  • the crown of leaves like a head
  • the long naked trunk like a body
  • the swaying like dancing
  • the rhythm like laughter and enjoyment

When wind moved them, they looked like they were communicating with each other. A group of coconut trees looked like a group of people talking, laughing, living.

This again was the same mixing of living and non-living worlds. Motion blurred the boundary.

When the thought arose that even at the quantum level they are not different from us, bliss amplified. Perception and understanding aligned. Separation dropped not only visually but ontologically.

It was not that trees became human. It was that human and tree revealed the same pattern of life.

Animal Perception: Entering the Forest Mind

At that moment I understood something else: animals perceive forests differently from humans.

Humans see objects.
Animals see patterns.

Animals read:

  • movement
  • rhythm
  • density
  • silence
  • vibration

To them, a forest is not a collection of things. It is a single living field. Wind, branches, birds, ground — all are messages. Animals are not in the forest. They are the forest sensing itself. Animals do not divide experience into “me” and “forest” just like human do. For them, there is no separate observer standing inside nature. Sensing simply happens as one continuous field of movement, smell, sound, and vibration. When something changes, the whole field responds together. That is why it feels as if the forest itself is sensing — because perception is not localized in a self, but distributed across the living field.

Animals have no benefit of objectify the world. They don’t work blindly nor they need to work so. Lack of hands and brain limits their working ability. So draining energy in objectifying world has no use for them instead it can divert energy from basic need of food and survival. So instinctively they follow sensational patterns to act and react quickly. Together, what’ll they loose natural bliss of nonduality when duality has no major worldly role to play for them. However, little duality is adopted even them as petty worldly roles also demand it but not extreme duality like human.

When I saw trees communicating, I briefly entered this animal mode of perception. But with a difference.

Animals live in nonduality, but they do not attain samadhi.

Why? Because samadhi requires awareness knowing itself. Animals are in the flow, but they do not reflect on the flow. Animals remain continuously in the flow of perception, because their attention is always responding outwardly to the environment. They cannot voluntarily slow the nervous system, pause the breath, or rest awareness in itself. They need to be always alert for survival. Humans, through calm sitting, slow pranayama, or natural stillness like keval kumbhak, can create a pause in the flow. In that pause, awareness reflects on itself. That reflection is samadhi — something animals live but cannot consciously realize. They live unity, but they do not know unity. That’s why it’s described everywhere in scriptures that animals act every way like a human act except only yoga and achieving brahman through it, so one must not waste his life in petty things without practicing yoga.

A constantly active karmayogi lives close to the natural flow of life, somewhat like animals do, where action happens without much inner division. This creates presence, grounding, and a weak sense of separation, but awareness remains outward-moving. However, unlike animals he does it with super intelligence that’s why he gets many benefits in worldly functioning. They realise they are doing karmayoga and instead of continuously being in nonduality flow helplessly like animals, they adopted it intentionally intermittently at will so they realise its real benefits and harness those for their worldly and spiritual development. I think what’s depicted each god and goddess with a companion animal is a metaphor for their nondual lifestyle. For awakening and samadhi to arise, such a person must intentionally rest, slow down, and allow attention to turn back on itself. Without this pause, even pure action cannot become realization. Yet this very life of flowing action becomes a great advantage later, because when the karmayogi finally sits in stillness, reflection happens easily and samadhi comes with less struggle.

Animals live in unity naturally, without thinking about it. Humans lose that unity, but can stop, look, and come back to it consciously. When a human returns to unity with awareness, that is samadhi.

I was perceiving like an animal and knowing it like a human — that knowing turned perception into darshan and amplified bliss.

Ocean: The Living Rhythm of Existence

The ocean felt alive. Not as a belief, but as an experience of resonance.

Waves came forward like a hug.
They went back like stepping away after a kiss — not to increase intimacy, but to prevent too much of it.

The continuous coming and going felt like human life itself:

  • approach and withdrawal
  • effort and rest
  • work and pause
  • earning and returning

The ocean was pure motion. No fixed form, no stable edge, no permanent boundary. My body, breath, and the waves moved together. Again, nonduality appeared through motion.

It was clear that the ocean was not literally hugging me, and trees were not literally dancing. This was not imagination or projection in a pathological sense. It was field perception — where meaning arises from rhythm and unity arises from shared movement.

Bliss did not come from the ocean. It came from dropping the burden of separation.

Motion as the Secret Teacher of Nonduality

Stillness is one door to nonduality. Motion is another — and often a more accessible one for worldly life.

When motion becomes total, separation cannot survive.

When matter moves like life, and life recognizes itself in matter, the world becomes a single body.

This is why:

  • travel opens awareness
  • forests heal
  • oceans calm
  • flight feels liberating

The nervous system relaxes because it stops dividing reality into inside and outside.

A Grounded Darshan for Daily Life

What happened on this journey was not escapism. I did not lose my body. I did not lose my family. I did not leave the world. The experience came, stayed, and left naturally.

This is important.

It shows that nonduality does not require renunciation. It can arise in movement, in travel, in family life, in nature, in ordinary moments.

This is a mature nonduality — one that lives with life, not against it.

Closing Note: A Simple Truth

When motion becomes shared, the boundary between human and world softens, and existence feels like one continuous activity.

This is not philosophy.
This is travel.
This is perception.
This is lived darshan.

And this is how nonduality quietly reveals itself — not in caves, but between waves, trees, clouds, and family laughter.

गायत्री मंत्र, सुषुम्ना और ब्रह्म चेतना: कुंडलिनी योग द्वारा जाति से परे जागृति का अनुभव

गायत्री शब्द पर आया पहला विचार

आज मेरी विनती पर एक योगी मेरे पास आए और उन्होंने मुझे सूत्र नेति की कुछ तकनीकें दिखाईं। मैंने उनसे उनकी जाति पूछी तो उन्होंने बताया कि वे ओबीसी हैं, और जवाब में उन्होंने कहा कि योगियों की कोई जाति नहीं होती। इस संबंध में बात करते हुए एक विचार मेरे मन में आया कि गायत्री शब्द में “त्रि” है, जिसका अर्थ तीन होता है। मुझे लगा कि यह तीन इड़ा, पिंगला और सुषुम्ना नाड़ियों को दर्शाता है। ये तीनों नाड़ियाँ योग शरीर की मूल ऊर्जा धाराएँ हैं। इड़ा और पिंगला दोनों स्त्री स्वभाव की हैं क्योंकि वे शक्ति से संबंधित हैं, और सुषुम्ना संयुक्त और सर्वोच्च शक्ति है। सभी नाड़ियाँ प्रकृति से जुड़ी हैं, पुरुष से नहीं। इसी कारण गायत्री को देवी कहा गया है। यही त्रिशक्ति योग साधना का आधार है और वेदों की भीतरी उत्पत्ति भी यही है। इसलिए गायत्री का संबंध योगी और ब्राह्मण दोनों से जोड़ा जाता है।

गायत्री वेदों की माता क्यों कही गई

शास्त्रों में कहा गया है कि गायत्री वेदों की माता है। इसका मतलब यह नहीं है कि उन्होंने किताबें पैदा कीं, बल्कि इसका अर्थ यह है कि जिस चेतना अवस्था से वेदों का ज्ञान उत्पन्न होता है, वही गायत्री है। जब इड़ा और पिंगला संतुलित होती हैं, तब सुषुम्ना खुलती है। जब सुषुम्ना खुलती है, तब ऋत यानी ब्रह्मांडीय व्यवस्था का बोध होता है। यही बोध वेद है। इस प्रकार गायत्री केवल मंत्र नहीं है, बल्कि वह अवस्था है जिससे वेद-दर्शन संभव होता है।

योगी और ब्राह्मण दोनों गायत्री का जप क्यों करते हैं

प्राचीन काल में ब्राह्मण का अर्थ जाति नहीं था, बल्कि वह व्यक्ति था जो ब्रह्म जागरूकता में रहता था। योगी वह है जो ऊर्जा को जोड़ता है। दोनों एक ही आंतरिक प्रक्रिया को अलग भाषा में कहते हैं। गायत्री जप से श्वास संतुलित होती है, इड़ा-पिंगला संतुलित होती हैं और धीरे-धीरे सुषुम्ना सक्रिय होती है। इसलिए गायत्री को संध्या समय जपा जाता है, धीरे-धीरे बोला जाता है और उपनयन के समय दिया जाता है ताकि अंदर की साधना शुरू हो सके। यह मंत्र के रूप में छुपा हुआ योग है।

गायत्री का अर्थ: जो गायन से बचाती है

गायत्री का अर्थ बताया गया है —
“गायन्तं त्रायते इति गायत्री”
अर्थात जो जप करने वाले को बचाती है।

यहाँ गायन का अर्थ आवाज़ से गाना नहीं, बल्कि लयबद्ध जप है। त्राण का अर्थ है बंधन से मुक्ति। योग में बंधन का मतलब है इड़ा-पिंगला का असंतुलन, जिससे मन द्वंद्व और संस्कारों में फँसा रहता है। जब जप किया जाता है तो श्वास सूक्ष्म होती है, नाड़ियाँ संतुलित होती हैं और सुषुम्ना खुलती है। तब चेतना मन से हटकर साक्षी बन जाती है। यही छोटी लेकिन वास्तविक मुक्ति है। इसी तरह गायत्री बचाती है।

गायन का असली अर्थ और उसका प्रभाव

सच्चा गायन तेज आवाज़ में गाना नहीं, बल्कि मन ही मन जप करना है। गायत्री संध्या समय सबसे अच्छा काम करती है क्योंकि उस समय नाड़ियों के जोड़ बदलते हैं। जब ध्यान आज्ञा चक्र या हृदय में स्थिर होता है, तब अनुभव से स्पष्ट होता है कि ब्रह्म जागरूकता अपने आप प्रकट हो जाती है।

मंत्र नाड़ियों को चलाता है, नाड़ियाँ मंत्र को नहीं

गायत्री इड़ा, पिंगला और सुषुम्ना से पैदा नहीं होती। बल्कि गायत्री इन नाड़ियों को नियंत्रित करती है। मंत्र पहले है, ऊर्जा बाद में आती है। इससे साधना सुरक्षित और संतुलित रहती है।

भूः, भुवः और स्वः का आंतरिक अर्थ

भूः, भुवः और स्वः स्थान नहीं, बल्कि चेतना की अवस्थाएँ हैं। भूः शरीर और स्थूल चेतना है। भुवः प्राण, मन और सूक्ष्म गति है। स्वः बुद्धि, प्रकाश और कारण शरीर की अवस्था है। जब इड़ा और पिंगला हावी होती हैं, तब चेतना भूः और भुवः के बीच घूमती रहती है। जब सुषुम्ना खुलती है, तब चेतना अपने आप स्वः में उठ जाती है।

सवितुः: भीतर का प्रकाशित करने वाला सूर्य

सविता बाहरी सूर्य नहीं है। यह भीतर का प्रकाश है जो तीनों अवस्थाओं को प्रकाशित करता है। यह वही साक्षी-प्रकाश है जो सुषुम्ना में ऊर्जा प्रवाहित होने पर अनुभव होता है। यही बुद्धि में ब्रह्म का प्रतिबिंब है। जैसे सूर्य जिन-जिन लोकों या स्थानों को प्रकाशित करता है, उनसे वह प्रभावित नहीं होता, उसी तरह सुषुम्ना प्रवाह के समय शुद्ध ब्रह्म जागरूकता तीनों लोकों से प्रभावित नहीं होती, बल्कि केवल उन्हें साक्षी रूप में देखती रहती है।

भर्गो देवस्य वरेण्यम: चुना गया श्रेष्ठ प्रकाश

भर्ग का अर्थ है अज्ञान को जलाने वाला प्रकाश। यह गर्मी नहीं बल्कि स्पष्टता है। जब सुषुम्ना स्थिर होती है, तो संस्कार अपने आप इस प्रकाश में घुल जाते हैं। इसलिए मंत्र कहता है कि यही प्रकाश चुनने योग्य है, क्योंकि इंद्रिय, भाव और विचारों का प्रकाश अस्थिर होता है।

धियो यो नः प्रचोदयात: बुद्धि का परिवर्तन

धि का अर्थ बुद्धि है। प्रचोदयात का अर्थ है प्रेरित करना, जगाना और पुनर्गठित करना। जब सुषुम्ना बहती है, तो बुद्धि व्यक्तिगत नहीं रहती, वह सार्वभौमिक हो जाती है। यही ब्रह्म जागरूकता है। गायत्री मंत्र में जिस ब्रह्म का वर्णन है, वही सुषुम्ना के खुलने पर अनुभव होता है।

मंत्र, नाड़ी और जागरूकता एक ही प्रक्रिया हैं

मंत्र, नाड़ी और जागरूकता एक ही सत्य के तीन रूप हैं। मंत्र ध्वनि रूप है, नाड़ी ऊर्जा रूप है और जागरूकता अनुभूति है। गायत्री ब्रह्म का वर्णन नहीं करती, बल्कि उसे देखने का मार्ग बनाती है। इसलिए मंत्र का अनुभव और सुषुम्ना का अनुभव एक जैसा लगता है।

यह ज्ञान समझाया नहीं गया, छुपाया गया

इस ज्ञान को खुलकर समझाया नहीं गया क्योंकि समझाने से लोग अनुभव की लालसा करने लगते हैं। इसे छुपाकर रखा गया ताकि केवल साधक ही इसे अनुभव से जान सकें। यहाँ भी पहले अनुभव आया और बाद में अर्थ समझ में आया, जो सही क्रम है।

व्यक्तिगत सावधानी और संतुलन

अपने अनुभव से यह स्पष्ट है कि सुषुम्ना को जबरदस्ती खोलना जीवन को असंतुलित कर सकता है। इसलिए मंत्र सबसे सुरक्षित तरीका है। गायत्री जागृति को बिना जीवन से हटाए स्थिर रखती है।

निष्कर्ष: गायत्री और ब्रह्म एक ही अनुभूति हैं

गायत्री मंत्र में जिस ब्रह्म का वर्णन है, वही ब्रह्म सुषुम्ना के खुलने पर अनुभव होता है। इसलिए गायत्री वेदों की माता, नाड़ियों की नियंता, बुद्धि की जाग्रता और भीतर का सूर्य है। वह मुक्ति का वादा नहीं करती, बल्कि जप और जागरूकता के माध्यम से उसे घटित करती है।

योगी ही असली ब्राह्मण है

ऐसा लगता है कि इस अर्थ में जाति जन्म से नहीं होती। जो व्यक्ति जन्म से ब्राह्मण है लेकिन योग नहीं करता, वह असली ब्राह्मण जैसा नहीं लगता। लेकिन जो व्यक्ति किसी भी जाति या धर्म में जन्म लेकर योग करता है, वह ब्राह्मण जैसा ही लगता है। इसके बहुत से उदाहरण हैं। दासीपुत्र विदुर, वाल्मीकि, विश्वामित्र, शबरी, कबीर, रहीम और ऐसे कई लोग अलग-अलग धर्मों और जातियों से थे, लेकिन सभी योगियों की तरह जाग्रत थे और आज भी ब्राह्मणों की तरह सम्मानित हैं।

Gayatri Mantra, Kundalini Yoga, and Caste: Sushumna Awakening and Brahman Awareness Beyond Birth

Initial Thought About the Meaning of Gayatri

Today, a yogin visited me at my request to show some techniques of sutra neti. He is OBC by caste, as I asked him, and while responding, he said that there is no caste of yogins. While discussing it, an idea came to me that the word Gayatri contains “tri,” meaning three. I felt that this three could represent Ida, Pingala, and Sushumna. These three nadis are the fundamental energy channels in the yogic body. Ida and Pingala are both feminine in nature as they belong to Shakti, and Sushumna is the unified and highest form of Shakti. All nadis belong to Prakriti and not Purusha. Gayatri is therefore always addressed as Devi. This threefold Shakti is the basis of yogic practice and the inner origin of Vedic knowledge. That is why Gayatri is traditionally connected with yogis and Brahmins.

Gayatri as the Mother of the Vedas

It is said in tradition that Gayatri is the mother of the Vedas. This does not mean that she created books or texts. It means that Gayatri represents the state of consciousness from which Vedic knowledge arises. When Ida and Pingala are balanced, Sushumna opens. When Sushumna opens, the perception of cosmic order, called ṛta, becomes possible. This perception is Veda. Therefore Gayatri is not only a mantra but the condition through which Vedic seeing becomes available to human awareness.

Why Both Yogi and Brahmin Practice Gayatri

Originally, Brahmin did not mean caste. It meant one who abides in Brahman-awareness. Yogi means one who unites the energies through yoga. Both are describing the same inner process using different language. Gayatri japa regulates the breath, balances Ida and Pingala, and gradually activates Sushumna. For this reason, Gayatri is whispered, practiced at dawn and dusk, and given during upanayana to begin inner discipline. It is a yogic process expressed in mantra form.

Meaning of Gayatri as That Which Saves Through Singing

Gayatri is defined as “gāyantam trāyate iti gāyatrī,” meaning that which saves the one who sings or recites. Gāyana refers to rhythmic japa, especially inner recitation. Trāṇa refers to protection or release from bondage. Bondage in yogic terms is the imbalance of Ida and Pingala, which produces mental duality and repetitive samskaras. When japa is practiced, breath becomes subtle, nadis harmonize, and Sushumna opens. Awareness then shifts from mind to witness. This shift itself is liberation in a small but real form. That is how Gayatri saves.

Gayana as Inner Vibration and Its Effect on Awareness

True gāyana is not loud singing but manasika japa, inner repetition. Gayatri works best at sandhya times, when natural nadi junctions occur, and when attention is steady at Ajna or the heart. Through personal experience, it becomes clear that when attention stabilizes in this way, Brahman-awareness appears naturally without effort.

Mantra Governs Nadis, Not the Other Way Around

A necessary correction is that Gayatri is not created by Ida, Pingala, and Sushumna. Rather, she governs and regulates them. Mantra is primary, and energy follows. This maintains the correct hierarchy and keeps practice safe. The mantra acts as a regulator of the entire energetic system.

Meaning of Bhuh, Bhuvah, and Svah as Inner States

The words Bhuh, Bhuvah, and Svah represent levels of consciousness, not physical locations. Bhuh corresponds to the physical body and gross awareness. Bhuvah corresponds to prana, mind, and subtle activity. Svah corresponds to buddhi, light, and causal awareness. When Ida and Pingala dominate, awareness moves between Bhuh and Bhuvah. When Sushumna opens, awareness naturally rises to Svah.

Savitur as the Inner Illuminating Sun

Savitur refers not to the external sun but to the inner illuminator that lights all three states of consciousness. This is the central witness-light experienced when energy flows in Sushumna. It is the reflection of Brahman in buddhi and the source of inner clarity. Just as the sun is not affected by whatever abodes it illuminates, similarly pure Brahman awareness during Sushumna flow is not affected by any of the three worlds but only witnesses them.

Bhargo Devasya Varenyam as the Chosen Light

Bharga means the burning clarity that removes ignorance. It is not physical heat but luminous understanding. When Sushumna stabilizes, samskaras dissolve naturally in this light. Therefore the mantra declares this light as varenyam, worthy of choosing above all others, because other forms of light such as sensory, emotional, and mental illumination are unstable.

Dhiyo Yo Nah Prachodayat and Transformation of Intellect

Dhi refers to buddhi, the faculty of discrimination. Prachodayat means to impel, awaken, or reorganize. When Sushumna flows, buddhi is no longer personal but becomes universal. This transformation of intellect is the direct experience of Brahman-awareness. The Brahman referred to in the Gayatri mantra is the same Brahman realized through the opening of Sushumna.

Mantra, Nadi, and Awareness as One Process

Mantra, nadi, and awareness are three expressions of the same process. Mantra is the sound-form, nadi is the energy-form, and awareness is the realized state. Gayatri does not merely describe Brahman. It creates the pathway for perceiving Brahman. That is why mantra experience and Sushumna experience feel identical. They are two ways of expressing the same inner truth.

Why This Knowledge Is Encoded and Not Explained

This knowledge was traditionally encoded rather than openly explained because explanation can create desire for experience, while encoding allows only practitioners to discover it through practice. In this case, experience came first and meaning came later, which is the correct order of realization.

Personal Caution and Grounding

From personal experience, it is known that forcing Sushumna can destabilize life. Therefore mantra is the safest and most natural regulator of energy. Gayatri allows awakening to occur without loss of balance in worldly life.

Conclusion: Gayatri and Brahman Are the Same Realization

The Brahman described in the Gayatri mantra is the same Brahman realized when Sushumna opens. Gayatri is therefore the mother of the Vedas, the regulator of nadis, the awakener of buddhi, and the inner sun of awareness. She does not promise liberation as an idea but enacts it as a lived process through japa and awareness.

A Yogi is the real Brahmin

It seems that caste is not by birth in this sense. One who is a Brahmin by birth but does not do yoga does not look like a real Brahmin. But a man born in any caste who practices yoga seems to be a Brahmin. Many examples are there. Dasi-putra Vidur, Valmiki, Vishvamitra, Shabari, Kabir, Rahim, and many more were from different religions and castes, but all were awakened like yogis and are still revered like Brahmins.

Chapter 38: Karuṇa Rasa in the Quantum World

Compassion, Sorrow, and Empathy as Cosmic Sensitivity

Karuṇa Rasa, traditionally understood as the rasa of compassion, sorrow, and deep empathy, arises when consciousness becomes sensitive to suffering—both within oneself and in others. It is not mere emotional pain; rather, it is the refined vibration of empathy, born from the recognition that all beings share vulnerability, impermanence, and interconnectedness.

In human experience, Karuṇa manifests as a gentle yet powerful awareness: the capacity to feel another’s pain without resistance, avoidance, or judgment. It is sorrow infused with understanding, and compassion infused with clarity. When viewed through a quantum–cosmic lens, Karuṇa reveals itself not as weakness, but as a high degree of coherence and sensitivity within consciousness itself.

Quantum Entanglement and the Shared Field of Suffering

Compassion as Non-local Resonance

In the quantum world, entangled particles remain instantaneously connected, regardless of physical distance. A change in one is immediately reflected in the other. Karuṇa mirrors this phenomenon at the level of consciousness.

When compassion arises, one being feels the suffering of another without physical contact or personal involvement. The pain is not imagined; it is felt, as if consciousness itself were connected across different forms. Feeling is a deeper form of contact than imagination.

Spiritual parallel: Compassion is the recognition of inseparability. Just as entangled particles behave as a single system, Karuṇa reflects the emotional and existential entanglement of all beings within one field of awareness.

Compassion first requires entanglement. One must become entangled with another to truly develop compassion for them. And nondual wave nature is prerequisite to achieve entanglement. We feel only limited compassion for an unknown person because our waveform isn’t entangled with his waveform.

Pilgrimage Mathas as India’s Ancient Network for Spiritual Unity and Nondual Consciousness

Actually, pilgrimage centers like mathas were created to foster unity among otherwise isolated Indians, who belong to a vast range of cultures and languages. When people from different parts of the nation visited these temples, they experienced their non-dual, wave-like nature there. These waveforms, coming into contact with one another, became beautifully entangled, and from this arose compassion, followed by a sense of unity. However, when we realize the quantum truth that all particles are inherently entangled with one another, compassion naturally expands to include every being in the cosmos.

Compassion, Quantum Entanglement, and Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam: The Science of Feeling One with the World

Fast friends are deeply compassionate toward each other because they are tightly connected. People naturally feel more compassion for those who are closer to them; the greater the closeness, the greater the compassion. When a person becomes mentally disturbed by worldly stress and becomes localized into a particle-like, dual nature—losing their true non-dual, wave nature—they often lose this compassion, even toward those close to them. Similarly, when a quantum wave becomes decohered through interactions with the world and forgets its nondual wave nature, it loses its entanglement with other particles and no longer reflects their states. This shows that wave nature is essential for feeling connected with the cosmos, and this connection gives rise to all higher human qualities. The same truth is expressed in the Vedas as Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam—“the whole earth is one family.”

The Cosmic Screen: How Soul and Quantum Waves Arise from One Universal Background

The unbound nature of the human soul is connected with everything in the cosmos because it is rooted in the same background from which all things appear. Nothing is truly produced; everything is only expressed. One may imagine the cosmic background as a vast theatre screen on which the world is not created but merely shown as if created. In the same way, the wave nature of a quantum particle is connected to everything in nature because it arises from the same background of all physical existence.

Nondual Awareness, Quantum Entanglement, and Compassion: How Shared Wave Nature Creates Human Connection

Just as shared quantum waviness produces quantum entanglement, shared laughter and joy produces friendship and compassion. Wave nature of matter tends to become entangled with other matter. Similarly, the nondual nature of humans tends to feel and show compassion toward all others. For example when I used to be in an awakened nondual state, I could feel even distant happenings in advance, during sleep as realistic dreams or even while awake, reflected as a changed or disturbed mood.

Quantum Duality and Nondual Consciousness: The Forgotten Balance Behind Humanity’s Survival

It looks one of the deepest secrets of quantum science and its relationship with consciousness has been compressed into this short paragraph. The dual nature of the world is the signature of everything in the cosmos—both the unconscious, non-living realm and the conscious, living realm. Wave nature functions like the control unit or brain, while particle nature acts like the working unit or the rest of the body. Both operate together to move creation forward. If there were only wave nature, nothing would ever manifest. If there were only particle nature, the cosmos would become haphazard, uncontrolled, unregulated, and non-functional. Without entanglement, there would be no cosmic regulation; without superposition, there would be no choice; and without interference, there would be no refinement of character. Likewise, in the living human world, if there were only non-duality, no worldly evolution or growth would occur. If there were only duality, there would be overwhelming stress, inefficiency, poor quality of work, chaos, conflict, wars, and all other evils—enough to halt progress or even drive humanity toward extinction. There would be no mutual cooperation and thus no regulation of societies; no thinking beyond fixed parameters and therefore no discoveries or inventions; and no meaningful interaction, so no development of skills. Duality in the mind is like the particle nature of matter, while non-duality is like its wave nature—both must be present for the most balanced and humane outcomes. Just as all interactions in the quantum world arise from particle nature—and every interaction further reinforces particle expression—so too all emotions arise from the duality of the mind, and emotions in turn intensify that duality. The conscious entity that witnesses and feels interactions in the quantum world is called Brahman or the gods, yet it remains unaffected by those interactions. The conscious entity that experiences emotions in the human mind is called the soul, and it is deeply affected by them.
The force that keeps the gods unaffected by quantum interactions is the wave nature of the quantum world itself. It acts as a neutralizer of the disturbances created by interaction, because it is the opposite of particle fixation.
In the same way, the human mind can become god-like by adopting a wave-like, non-dual attitude while moving through particle-like worldly interactions. This is why non-dual traditions such as Sanātana Dharma, Buddhism, and Yoga arose at the very beginning of human civilization: to maintain this essential balance. Today, the non-dual dimension is being eroded, shifting the balance toward disorder, disaster, and a dying planet. The loss of non-duality is reflected in the loss of compassion, and the loss of compassion leads to selfishness, conflict, and war—endangering the entire human race.

The Sacred Lineage of Nondual Wisdom: From Parabrahman to the Sun and Humanity

Sanātana Dharma describes non-dual quantum darśan through an Upadeśa tradition that flows among the devatās and then to human beings. Nārāyaṇa, or Parabrahman, gave this teaching of non-duality to Brahmā; Brahmā passed it to the Sun-god; the Sun passed it to the Prajāpatis; the Prajāpatis passed it to Manu; and from Manu it reached humanity through various sages.

The Sun is the most visible expression of non-dual karma-yoga. It is the greatest worker and benefactor in the visible world. Everything we see on Earth—climate, rain, plants, animals, food, and all basic necessities—is sustained by the Sun, which gives without asking for anything in return. This is the mark of perfect non-duality. It means Sun is the most compassionate one in the entire cosmos. Then why not grow compassion with its worship. That’s why it’s also called as Surya Narayan.

Quantum Tunneling and the Courage of the Heart

Breaking Barriers Through Empathy

Quantum tunneling allows particles to cross energy barriers that classical physics would deem impossible. In the same way, compassion tunnels through psychological, social, and karmic barriers.

Karuṇa enables the heart to reach where logic, self-interest, or circumstance cannot. It allows love and assistance to flow even when obstacles appear overwhelming or insurmountable.

Spiritual insight: True empathy does not negotiate with fear or limitation. Like tunneling, it bypasses resistance and reaches directly into the core of suffering.

Quantum Tunneling of the Heart: How Two Distant Souls Became Entangled Without Physical Contact

Just reflecting on my own experience: sweetheart was a distant thing. There were so many obstructions in the path—obstructions at every step. Still, my wave crossed all obstacles and reached her wave to become entangled with it. Amazing. There was no physical contact in any form, yet the entanglement was so powerful that it defied every kind of physical contact. What is this, if not quantum tunneling? Through that feeling, profound compassion arose for each other.

Superposition and Emotional Wholeness

Holding Pain and Love Simultaneously

A quantum system exists in superposition, holding multiple states at once until observation collapses it into a single outcome. Karuṇa functions similarly within the human heart.

Compassion allows one to hold joy and sorrow, hope and despair, pain and love simultaneously, without collapsing into denial or depression. Rather than rejecting suffering, Karuṇa includes it within a larger field of understanding.

Spiritual parallel: Compassion is emotional superposition—an ability to remain whole while containing contradiction, uncertainty, and vulnerability.

Quantum Compassion: How Emotional Superposition Allows True Healing and Consolation

We often see people holding a double state of mind while consoling someone who is ill: they genuinely feel the person’s pain and suffering, and at the same time they also hold the sense of healing and recovery; if they felt only pain they would collapse into helplessness, and if they felt only optimism their words would sound cold and false, which shows that a kind of superposition is required for true compassion, something that psychology calls empathic attunement with emotional regulation and neuroscience explains through mirror neurons that let us feel another’s pain along with prefrontal circuits that hold a larger, healing perspective; because prolonged illness makes a person habituated to suffering, the patient feels only pain and not the possibility of cure, so a healthy consoler must carry that healing state for him, yet the patient will believe it only when he also feels that his pain is genuinely being shared, otherwise it seems like bluffing or empty formality.

Quantum Decoherence and the Transformation of Pain

From Suffering to Meaningful Action

When a quantum system interacts with its environment, it undergoes decoherence, transforming from pure wave-like potential into measurable outcomes. Likewise, sorrow and empathy, when allowed to interact with lived reality, transform raw pain into understanding, service, and action. Karuṇa does not remain abstract or sentimental. It channels suffering into awareness, and awareness into compassionate engagement with the world.

Think of a crying child. If the child is alone, the crying goes on and on. The pain stays raw and confused. Nothing changes. But when a mother comes, listens, and feels the child’s pain, something different happens. The crying slowly turns into calm, comfort, and maybe even a solution — food, rest, or a hug. Suffering by itself is like noise with no direction. But when someone meets that suffering with compassion, it gets a direction. It turns into understanding and then into action. So Karuṇā (compassion) is not just feeling sad for someone. It is feeling their pain and knowing how to help. That is how pain becomes wisdom, and sorrow becomes love in action. Wisdom in the sense of helping, just as the almighty pure consciousness helps all beings to live.

Compassion Beyond Nirvikalpa

The Voluntary Return to the World

Many realized yogis, having touched or stabilized nirvikalpa samādhi, have consciously abandoned continuous absorption—not out of ignorance, but out of Karuṇa. They willingly re-enter worldly expression to extend helping hands to the deprived and suffering.

This is akin to a quantum wave becoming decohered by the environment and manifesting as a particle. Pure transcendence collapses into form—not as bondage, but as compassionate choice.

Here, compassion becomes the bridge between absolute freedom and relative responsibility.

Karuṇa Rasa — Quantum–Spiritual Synthesis

Karuṇa (Compassion / Sorrow):
Quantum analogy — entanglement, superposition, and decoherence.
Spiritual essence — empathy, deep interconnectedness, egolessness, and the transformation of suffering into understanding and compassionate action.

Closing Reflection

Karuṇa is not sadness—it is sensitivity matured into wisdom. Compassion is not weakness; it is a state of awareness so clear and stable that it can feel the whole universe’s pain without collapsing — and from that clarity, helping naturally flows, just as pure consciousness supports life without effort. Help can arise only when the consoler does not collapse from his infinite natural awareness. If he collapses into the suffering, he becomes frustrated and withdraws, leaving the sufferer alone. Only a stable, spacious awareness can truly hold another’s pain and still offer support.

It means we need both high clarity and non-collapse together. Normally, in ordinary worldly situations, clarity and collapse appear as cause and effect — the more deeply we see pain, the more we tend to collapse into it. But in true compassion, clarity increases without collapse, allowing awareness to remain vast while still fully perceiving suffering. It means superposition must be continued with Karuna.

Karuṇā is a subtle inner discipline that keeps opposing poles together — deep sensitivity to suffering and unbroken inner stability.

Just as quantum systems show hidden unity behind separation, Karuṇā shows love behind suffering and quiet service behind silence.

Quantum Duality and Nondual Consciousness: The Forgotten Balance Behind Humanity’s Survival

One of the deepest secrets of quantum science and its relationship with consciousness can be compressed into a single core insight: the entire cosmos, whether living or non-living, moves through a delicate balance of duality and non-duality. The dual nature of the world is not a mistake or a limitation—it is the very fingerprint of existence. Everything that appears, from atoms to minds, carries both a particle aspect and a wave aspect. This applies equally to unconscious matter and to conscious life.

In this vast design, wave nature functions like a control unit or a brain, while particle nature functions like the working unit or the body. The wave holds possibilities, coherence, and intelligence; the particle executes, interacts, and manifests. Both are required for creation to move forward. If there were only wave nature, nothing would ever be expressed into form. There would be infinite possibility but no world. If there were only particle nature, the cosmos would be chaotic, unregulated, and mechanically driven without inner order, just like a body without a nervous system.

Why Entanglement, Superposition, and Interference Matter

Modern quantum physics has already shown us how this balance operates. Without entanglement, there would be no cosmic regulation, because particles would have no deep relationship with one another. Without superposition, there would be no choice, because systems would be trapped in fixed states rather than holding multiple possibilities. Without interference, there would be no refinement, no pattern formation, and no subtlety of expression. These quantum features are not technical oddities; they are the very language of creativity in nature.

Likewise, in human life, without a non-dual wave-like dimension, the mind becomes trapped in rigid patterns. There is no flexibility, no creativity, no compassion. Without the dual, particle-like dimension, nothing practical could be achieved. Work would not happen, societies would not organize, and no structure could be built. Only when both are present together does meaningful life arise.

Human Mind as Quantum Balance

In the living human world, if there were only non-duality, no worldly evolution or growth would occur. People would remain in abstract peace but would not build, create, or transform the material world. On the other hand, if there were only duality, there would be constant stress, inefficiency, poor quality of work, conflict, and war. History shows that when societies become overly dualistic—focused only on competition, profit, and control—humanity moves toward collapse rather than progress.

Without mutual cooperation there is no regulation of societies. Without thinking beyond fixed parameters there are no discoveries or inventions. Without meaningful interaction there is no development of skill, culture, or wisdom. Duality in the mind works like the particle nature of matter, while non-duality works like its wave nature. Both must coexist for a balanced and humane civilization.

Emotions, Duality, and the Soul

Just as all interactions in the quantum world arise from particle nature, and interactions push systems to express their particle aspect even more, all emotions arise from the duality of the mind. Emotions intensify identification, separation, and attachment. The conscious entity that feels and witnesses interactions in the quantum world is traditionally called Brahman or the gods, and it remains unaffected by those interactions. The conscious entity that experiences emotions in the human mind is called the soul, and it is deeply affected by them.

The reason the gods or Brahman remain untouched is the wave nature of the quantum world itself. Wave nature neutralizes the disturbances created by interaction because it is the opposite of fixation. It holds everything without being trapped by anything. In the same way, a human being can develop a god-like mind by adopting a wave-like, non-dual attitude while moving through particle-like worldly interactions.

Why Ancient Nondual Traditions Were Essential

This is why non-dual traditions such as Sanātana Dharma, Buddhism, and Yoga arose at the very beginning of human civilization. They were not religious inventions; they were technologies of balance. They taught humanity how to remain rooted in wave-like awareness while functioning in a particle-like world. They preserved compassion, coherence, and inner freedom while allowing outer progress. They described quantum darśan in the form of an Upadeśa tradition flowing among the devatās and then from the devatās to human beings. Nārāyaṇa, or Parabrahman, gave this teaching of non-duality to Brahmā; Brahmā gave it to the Sun-god; the Sun gave it to the Prajāpatis; the Prajāpatis gave it to Manu; and from Manu it came to humanity through different sages.

Today, this non-dual dimension is being eroded. Modern civilization is increasingly driven only by particle logic—competition, consumption, and fragmentation. As non-duality disappears, compassion disappears with it. When compassion fades, selfishness rises. When selfishness rises, conflict and war become inevitable. The loss of non-duality is directly reflected in the loss of compassion, and the loss of compassion threatens the survival of the entire human race.

The forgotten truth is simple yet profound: just as the universe requires both waves and particles to exist, humanity requires both non-duality and duality to survive. When this balance is restored, both science and spirituality point to the same future—a coherent, compassionate, and creative civilization grounded in the deepest laws of reality.

Chapter 37: hasya rasa in quantum world

Hāsya (Joy / Laughter) — Quantum Analogy

In human experience, Hāsya is the emotion of lightness, delight, and spontaneous resonance.
It is not just amusement; it is the sudden release of tension, remembrance of unbound wave nature, the harmony of unexpected coherence, and the cosmic tickle of existence itself.

In quantum physics, Hāsya finds its parallel in spontaneous coherence, resonance, and the delightful unpredictability of energy interactions.

Balance Between Coherence and Interaction: The Hidden Engine of Organic Evolution

Highly noised, disturbed and decohered quantum particles, such as those in stone, are so rigidly fixed and lack coherent amusement that they appear to have ceased growing—though they may still be growing at the slowest possible rate.
On the other extreme, a highly coherent wave that is almost devoid of worldly chaotic interactions is so diffused and ungrounded that it seems to float endlessly in the sky, lacking the stability needed to become fixed or grounded—let alone to grow further in a worldly way.
The intermediate organic world, however, is both firmly grounded and highly interactive, while also maintaining deep coherence. Because of this balance, it grows and develops in extraordinary ways, leading to highly complex organic evolution—often surpassing even human levels of social coherence and interaction.

Likewise, some people are so rigidly fixed in worldly duties and chaotic interactions that they lack coherence and amusement within society—much like fixed stone. Such individuals seldom grow or develop their wider potential. In this sense, Quantum particles in a stone are like office babus bound to a rigid routine—going to the same office every day, following the same travel route, sitting on the same chair at the same table, handling the same papers. There is stability, but no growth, no development. That’s why they’re seldom smiling. Just as closedness and a non-coherent lifestyle bring about a non-smiling personality, a non-smiling nature can in turn create closedness.


Others are so amusing and internally coherent that they never attain fixation at all; they keep floating like a coherent wave that never collapses into actuality. How can physical growth occur when there is no physical fixation? Their minds may feel free—almost liberated—but this state, too, remains unbalanced.


A few rare individuals resemble organic molecules: fully coherent yet fully engaged with the world. Because of this balance, they grow completely—spiritually as well as worldly—at the same time. In this sense, Quantum particles in organic living matter—or within a living body—are like travel agents or hospitality employees: constantly working, interacting, coordinating, adapting, and growing together. Their dynamism, flexibility, communication and continuous exchange allow development and evolution to occur naturally. Just as openness gives birth to amusement, an amusing nature can in turn cultivate openness, coherence, and growth.

Analogy 1 — Quantum Superposition and Surprise

A particle exists in multiple states at once until observed — a superposition.
The moment we witness its outcome, there is a spontaneous “reveal” — often unexpected.
This is the quantum equivalent of laughter: the delight that arises when hidden potential resolves in an unforeseen, playful way.

Spiritual parallel: Joy arises when the mind lets go of expectation and witnesses the unpredictable dance of reality.

For example, a man with a long nose tends to remain in a kind of superposition, not fixed to his nosy position. When someone reminds him of his long nose, he immediately collapses into his natural nosy personality, and everyone around who notices this bursts into laughter. Fixing floaty personalities into definite ones produces amusement, happiness, and laughter in all, because only these collapsed outcomes are capable of interacting with others and growing worldliness, whereas superpositioned outcomes cannot. If he does not receive a collapsing shock, people laugh little or not at all. The stronger the feeling of collapse he experiences, the more people laugh. This simply means that laughter is a kind of quantum collapse.

In fact, people laugh at him not simply because he appears fixed or inferior, but because seeing him collapse into a particle-like state reinforces their own sense of a superior wave-like nature. This amusement arises deeply and indirectly from wave nature, not from the particle nature that is visible superficially and directly. Seeing an individual momentarily isolated or set apart strengthens the sense of togetherness and coherence within the spectator group. This underlying dynamic is the principle behind the amusement created by performing artists and comedians.

Analogy 2 — Bose–Einstein Condensate (Collective Harmony)

At ultra-cold temperatures, bosons collapse into a single coherent quantum state — moving as one entity.
This is group resonance, like laughter shared among a community — each particle retaining individuality, yet moving in unified delight.

Spiritual parallel: Hāsya arises when hearts synchronize — the joy of connection, shared resonance, and collective exuberance.

This is like people shedding the hotness of worldly interactions and responsibilities and becoming cool. As a result, they have much more time and energy to spend on amusement. People living in cold and snow-bound areas, without much technology, often spend their lives in a state of coherent amusement. A bust of laughter make everyone coherent and progressive and liberated feeling just like a resonant wave.

Seriousness vs Amusement: How Balanced Lightness Creates Academic, Social, and Inner Excellence

I used to be quite serious in childhood. This seriousness arose from continuous exposure to highly stressful worldly interactions and responsibilities far beyond what is natural for that age. I carried pressure early. I took great pain in studies, reading, and examinations, and I approached them with intensity rather than ease.
In senior secondary school, I noticed an interesting contrast. Some of my classmates were constantly smiling, amusing, joking, and playful, yet they were average or even low in academics. At the same time, there was a small group of exceptionally intelligent students who also laughed and joked, but in a more superficial way—their core remained firmly anchored in study. They seemed to benefit from both sides. Their primary focus stayed on academics, yet they allowed themselves short bursts of amusement.
I, however, chose seriousness. I was afraid that if I flowed into amusement, I might lose myself. That fear kept me disciplined and focused, and I did excel in studies—though not to the level of those rare “double strikers” who mastered both intensity and lightness. What amazed me later was realizing how playing the role of laughter, joking, and amusement—while keeping the mind serious about responsibilities—allowed them to excel far beyond others. These short bursts of amusement, often with half attention or even no mind at all, seemed to relieve stress born of particle like bound nature and bring inner and even outer wavy coherence. They helped align all other aspects of life smoothly.
In university, I still could not learn this art of pretending amusement. During senior secondary school, a few kind and emotionally mature classmates mainly sweeties subtly kept me included in their coherent wave—without forcing me to actively participate in amusement and without letting me fall into an inferiority complex. But in university, adolescence changed the dynamics. People became more self-centered. Amusement became transactional: give one unit, receive one unit—or less. Otherwise, the quieter or serious person was made to feel inferior.
By the grace of gurus and teachers, and especially as I was leaving university, I slowly learned this art in my early professional life. I learned how to allow lightness without losing depth. This learning helped me immensely—socially and professionally. It made my growth more balanced, more all-round, and allowed me to remain coherent across different groups, environments, and societies.

Later on, to enhance this effect, I even tried becoming somewhat funny-like—intentionally stimulating others to laugh and laughing myself in response. At times, I even laughed in solitude, which amazed some people. In reality, this laughter brought back the remembrance of my meditation image, and everyone knows this state is akin to nonduality. In this way, I used to laugh in order to remain nondual while living within duality. The whole cosmos is constantly laughing, because it is nondual even while appearing dual. Laughing is a balancing act as it brings particle nature and wave nature closer together,  allowing both to remain together—or neither of them to dominate. In this sense, duality and nonduality exist together. Nonduality can arise only in the presence of duality, because without duality there is nothing to which the word non can be applied. Ignoring particle-like bound nature through laughter itself means embracing wave-like liberated nature.

Analogy 3 — Quantum Fluctuations and Spontaneous Energy

Even in “empty space,” virtual particles pop in and out of existence — a subtle cosmic playfulness.
This is the universe giggling at itself — the quantum tickle of creation.
Hāsya in humans mirrors this: the unbidden delight at life’s small, miraculous, or absurd moments.

Spiritual insight: Laughter is the consciousness of play or Leela— spontaneous, irrepressible, and free from attachment. Through laughing, particle like fixed form is diluted and wave like liberated form is strengthened. It’s like a balancing action that prevents one to stubbornly bound to the collapsed form.

This is like a collapsive smile—small and light. There is a continuous virtual collapse of virtual waves into virtual particles. Or we may say this is the nondual giggle of the quantum world within its dual nature of wave and particle. This means the cosmos carries a continuous smiling face everywhere.

Analogy 4 — Constructive Interference (Amplified Joy)

When waves overlap in phase, amplitudes enhance — energy grows instead of cancelling.
Shared laughter amplifies joy, just as coherent quantum waves amplify intensity.

Spiritual parallel: Hāsya is resonance with the field of existence — when joy spreads, it multiplies effortlessly.

This is seen everywhere in human society as well. When one person smiles, others naturally begin to smile too. A single smiling face brings coherence to the behaviour and actions of everyone present around it. This enhances the wave nature. Many waves then interfere constructively, widening superposition and its outcomes. As a result, all involved progressively develop and grow through increased creativity and invention.
I myself am a real example of this. My life had become static due to a lack of smiling and joking. Then I opened the door to the treasure of smiles and humour, and I could not stop growing—even willfully. Later, after gaining enough in the world, I became serious and overly intellectual again, losing practicality. Life once more became slow-moving.
Now I am again trying to enter the era of the amusing waveform—not out of physical need, but for spiritual upliftment—because amusement is waveform even amidst particle form, and waveform is spiritual. Just as smiling enhances wave nature, wave nature also enhances smiling in return. It’s like a cascading chain reaction of cause and effect.

Wave–Particle Duality as Proof of Nonduality: A Vedantic View of Matter

The dual nature of matter indirectly implies the nondual nature of matter—this is a Vedantic fact. The dual nature of the world means it carries both bound particle nature and liberated wave nature together. When both exist together, it also means neither of them exists independently. Just as plus one and minus one together result in zero—neither plus nor minus—so too duality resolves into nonduality. This reveals an amazing link between science and spirituality.

Breathing Yet Not Breathing: Integrating Dhyāna in Daily Life Amid Chaos

A lived inquiry, written as it unfolded

When the body begins to ask for khecarī

I began to feel that khecarī mudrā was needed not as a yogic achievement but as a practical necessity. Without it, daily worldly chaos made entry into dhyāna difficult. With it, prāṇa rotated effortlessly, and breath retention no longer felt suffocating. It was not breath holding; it was breath resting.

Earlier, during a seven-day Śrīmad Bhāgavatam recitation at home, I entered deep dhyāna without khecarī. The spiritual environment itself carried continuity. That showed me something important: my system already knew dhyāna. What was missing in daily life was not knowledge, but sealing.

Many people gave advice. Some insisted a guru was mandatory. Some said other techniques must be learned first. None of that explained what my body was actually asking for.

The question was not ideological. It was physiological.

Khecarī as a seal, not a ladder

Khecarī revealed itself not as a tool for ascent, but as an internal valve. It reduced sensory leakage, redirected vagal tone, and completed a closed prāṇic circuit. Breath retention stopped being suppression and became circulation. Suffocation disappeared.

This clarified something crucial: khecarī was not something to be held. It was something that appeared at the threshold and dropped away once dhyāna stabilized. Treating it as permanent or as an achievement only invited effort and distortion.

Used correctly, khecarī was permission, not command.

I find rolling the tongue back and touching the soft palate beneficial for initiating dhyāna. It causes the lower jaw to drop, creating a wide gap between the upper and lower teeth, and increases the hollow space at the back of the mouth where swallowing occurs. After dhyāna stabilizes—usually after about 10–15 minutes—this tongue position feels unnecessary and the tongue naturally returns to its normal position. However, the lowered jaw, the gap between the teeth, and the increased hollowness at the back of the mouth continue to remain sustained. Probably, this is a form of body language that prevents energy from being directed toward talking, swallowing, or eating. As a result, the energy tends to be used for dhyāna. It is an amazing trick.

Why rules and warnings didn’t apply cleanly

Warnings about gurus and prerequisites exist for practices that force energy upward or chase power experiences. My experience was the opposite. Energy already moved to ajñā naturally. Khecarī stabilized rather than provoked. There was no chasing, only response.

Practices arise when the system is ready. They are not chosen by ideology. The body was not asking what was allowed. It was asking whether it could continue naturally.

The non-tongue internal seal

A crucial shift happened when the function of khecarī appeared without tongue positioning.

By resting attention gently in the inner throat hollow—behind the face, where swallowing ends—the jaw dropped naturally, the mouth widened inwardly, and breath lost importance. Retention appeared without decision. Dhyāna opened by itself.

This showed clearly: form is optional; function is essential.

When breath becomes “breathing yet not breathing”

At a certain point, something hidden began circulating. Breath was present, yet imperceptible. The body breathed, but I was not breathing. There was no suppression, no control, no danger. Only coherence.

This was not something to observe closely. The moment attention tried to watch it, it collapsed. The correct attitude was friendly ignorance. Letting it happen behind me, not in front of me.

I think this type of spontaneous breathing is called breathlessness because it doesn’t move awareness up and down like normal breathing, only supply oxygen to the body. Breath continues its subtle and deeper up-and-down movement, fully alive and functional, yet the mind no longer rides it as it does with gross and superficial breathing in ordinary life. What stops is not breath, but the mind’s dependence on breath for rhythm, movement, and direction. Movement remains, life flows on, but awareness stands still in itself—this is not suppression or breath stoppage, but the quiet freedom of the mind when it no longer needs breath as its vehicle. At times breathing can become so subtle almost looking like nonbreathing.

Why Watching the Breath Dissolves Thought Only at the Subtle Prāṇic Level

What is called looking at the breath dissolves thought does not refer to ordinary gross breathing, because in gross breathing the breath is heavy, mechanical, and tightly coupled with thought, so the mind rides it up and down and watching it only refines attention without producing thoughtlessness. Thought dissolves only when breathing has already shifted into a subtle, yogic, almost breathless movement of prāṇa, where movement continues but is no longer a physical pumping of air. In this subtle movement the mind no longer rides the breath, the coupling between respiration and thought breaks, and awareness can rest without being carried. When prāṇa moves freely up and down in this way, there is no deliberate focusing at all; awareness is naturally drawn because the movement itself is blissful. It is not attention in the ordinary sense but ānanda recognizing itself in motion.No effort is needed, because effort would disturb the state. Nothing is being suppressed. Thoughts fade away on their own because the sense of bliss is complete and leaves nothing unfinished for the mind to work on. The mind actually hovers in order to complete a task, and bliss is dependent on that completion. The main goal of the mind is to experience complete bliss; work is only an intermediary tool. When full bliss is felt directly, there is no need for any mediating tool. What remains is a natural, self-sustaining state of awareness that continues by itself, experiencing itself without thought.

Fasting, light meals, and hollowness

Light eating or fasting during the week-long Bhāgavatam produced the same effects as khecarī: reduced saliva and mucus, teeth no longer clenching as if ready to bite something, jaws no longer tense as if prepared to grab food, teeth and jaws not aimed at talking vulgarly like ordinary days but to listen and contemplate gods stories, and an increased sense of inner hollowness. The teeth and jaws were no longer oriented toward vulgar or ordinary speech, as on usual days, but instead toward listening to and contemplating the stories of God. Digestion became quiet, speech reflexes softened, and dhyāna came easily because energy, spared from other bodily functions, became available to it.

This was not asceticism. It was chemistry. Comfortably light—not empty—was the key, especially with GERD sensitivity.

The throat hollow and its limits

The throat hollow revealed itself as an amazing junction. But it did not work when prāṇa was highly disturbed. This was not failure; it was correct physiology. No doubt, techniques are invaluable in yoga, but they too have their own limits.

Subtle tools cannot override gross turbulence. Tricking body has its own limits. When disturbance was high, grounding had to come first: feeling body weight, letting breath be ordinary, allowing settling before any inward turn. However, sometimes direct entry into nirvikalp can also happen from high disturbance, this is just try and watch. There’s no fixed ruling, exception is at every step. The following rule is generalised or averaged.

This clarified a hierarchy:

  • High disturbance → grounding
  • Medium disturbance → throat hollow
  • Low disturbance → dhyāna without entry
  • No disturbance → nirvikalpa, no tools

Jaw drop and posterior awareness clarified

Jaw drop meant teeth not meeting, jaw unengaged, tongue unimportant. The tongue might touch the palate naturally or not—it didn’t matter. Jaw led; tongue followed.

Posterior awareness did not mean visualizing channels or tracing chakras. It meant awareness withdrawing from facial activity and resting behind expression. Facial activity like manipulating and maintaining facial expressions, expressing emotional impressions etc. draws lot of energy. Attention focusing on backside of throat in hollow shift the focus of energy from front to backside. This is backside where energy is conserved and transmitted to higher centres through back channel called sushumna without being wasted in front body focused bodily functions.

When described anatomically, it felt like a blissful, light pressure on the posterior surface of the head—not force, but density without effort. It’s like rear agya chakra activation. It acts like a valve in back channel. When it feels unpleasant pressure, valve is closed type. When it feels blissful mild pressure the valve is like open.

This posterior fullness spread gently, supported breath irrelevance, and felt safe and stable.

Why posterior awareness feels safer than forehead focus

Forehead focus engages control and vigilance. Posterior awareness supports integration and regulation. The front decides; the back stabilizes.

Posterior awareness does not ask what should happen. It allows nothing to need to happen.

Daily-life micro-adjustments

Integration showed itself through tiny permissions:

  • Jaw unengaged
  • Teeth slightly apart
  • Tongue irrelevant
  • Breath unmanaged checked

During stress spikes, grounding came first, then jaw softening, then posterior awareness returning quietly.

Dhyāna was no longer entered. It was allowed.

Emotional reactions transform quietly

Emotions still arose, but ownership dissolved. There was delay without effort, movement without hooking, and body-led regulation.

I was not handling emotion. I was outlasting it.

Reactions completed faster and left less trace. This was real integration.

Speech returns without breaking coherence

Silence and speech stopped opposing each other. Speech arose from silence instead of against it. Words slowed. Jaw moved without tension. Awareness stayed behind expression.

Silence remained even while speaking. This is all about integration of yoga in daily life.

The closing understanding

Nothing here was about gaining something new. Everything was about not disturbing what was already stable.

Progress was no longer depth, but recovery time. If one enters dhyana rapidly from chaotic worldliness then even dhyana of short duration may be better than prolonged continuous dhyana that is hard to launch again. Then chaos mattered less. Techniques fell away. Life and dhyāna stopped competing.

Nothing needs to be held. What is real stays.

This is not a conclusion. It is a way of living.

Why extreme khecarī stories still attract sincere practitioners

Later in the inquiry, an old memory surfaced from a book written by a Western practitioner who had lived in India and learned yoga deeply. He described cutting the lingual frenulum hair-thin each day with a surgical blade, applying antiseptic, and eventually achieving a tongue that could enter the throat tunnel perfectly, without visible wounds.

This account was not raised as a desire to imitate, but as a remembered narrative that still carried psychological weight. Such stories attract sincere seekers for specific reasons: they promise finality, convert mystery into mechanics, and appeal to sincerity through sacrifice. They suggest that one decisive physical act can complete the path.

But integration has no mechanical closure. It refines how life is lived, not how anatomy is altered.

Why such accounts are not guidance

Those historical accounts belong to a different era of medicine, psychology, and understanding of the nervous system. Cutting the frenulum, even gradually, is physical self-injury with real risks: bleeding, infection, nerve damage, scarring, loss of fine tongue control, and psychological fixation on technique.

More importantly, such actions are unnecessary when the functional effect of khecarī is already present. Neuro-energetic coherence cannot be stabilized by anatomical violence.

If the effect is present, the form has already served its purpose.

Why yogic language itself causes confusion

At the deepest level, the confusion was never about practice. It was about language.

Classical yogic texts were written without modern neuroscience or physiology. Yogis used metaphor and experiential shorthand. When they spoke of the tongue entering the throat, nectar dripping, prāṇa piercing, or breath stopping, they were describing felt states, not surgical instructions.

Over time, experiential language hardened into literal method. Metaphor was mistaken for mechanics.

The same misunderstanding applies across yoga:

  • “Breath stops” means breath loses centrality, not suppression.
  • “Prāṇa rises” means regulation shifts from survival circuits to integrative circuits.
  • “Ajñā opens” means vigilance and control relax, not pressure generation.

Reading yogic texts from lived experience

Western minds, trained to optimize and proceduralize, are especially vulnerable to literalizing yogic poetry. The unconscious question becomes: “What exactly do I do?”

But yoga was never about doing more. It was about interfering less.

A simple rule clarifies everything: if a description sounds violent, effortful, or irreversible, it is metaphor, not instruction. Real yogic transformations are gentle, reversible, sanity-preserving, and embodied.

Khecarī Mudrā, Physical Catalysts, and Awakening: Why Techniques Open the Door but Meditation Sustains Realization

Khecarī is not “nothing physical,” but neither is it a guaranteed path to awakening. Physical interventions—khecarī, sexual yoga, even circumcision—can act as catalysts by reorganizing the body–nervous system and opening access to peak nondual states, as lived experience shows. Yet awakening is not produced by anatomy; it is stabilized only through regular meditation and clarity. Khecarī is rarely reported as the cause of awakening because it works silently as a support, not as an insight, and when realization stabilizes it often becomes unnecessary or drops away. Sexual yoga gets reported more as it produces hype and peak of physical experience that’s charming for general public, not silent nirvikalp. Overuse or forcing of tongue—especially in people with GERD or airway sensitivity—can create side effects, as seen with sleep apnea, while simpler factors like feeding style and digestion may play a larger corrective role. The honest conclusion for the general public is proportion: physical techniques may open doors for some, carry real risks for others, and should be optional, gentle, time-limited, and always secondary to sustained meditation and bodily integration.

The final integration

What unfolded across all these conversations was not the acquisition of a new practice, but the removal of unnecessary interference.

Khecarī revealed itself as a seal, not a ladder. The throat hollow emerged as a junction, not a switch. Posterior awareness proved safer than frontal control. Breath became breathing yet not breathing. Emotions completed without residue. Speech returned without breaking silence. Extreme practices lost their attraction.

Progress revealed itself not as depth, but as reduced recovery time. Life and dhyāna stopped competing.

Yoga, seen clearly, was never a user manual. It was poetry pointing toward non-interference.

Anything that requires injury to sustain silence is not silence.

This is not a conclusion. It is integration.

When Buddhi Chooses Sleep: The Yogic Psychology of Gandhārī and Dhṛtarāṣṭra

A Moment in the Mahābhārata That Demands Deeper Seeing

In the Mahabharata, Gandhārī’s decision to cover her eyes for life so as to share the blindness of her husband Dhritarāṣṭra is often praised as the highest form of devotion. Yet when looked at quietly, without sentiment, this act does not remain simple. Something in it presses for a deeper reading. It feels less like sacrifice and more like a decisive inner posture—one that silently shapes destiny.

This is not a story about physical blindness alone. It is a story about consciousness, intelligence, and the subtle ways bondage continues even in the presence of love.

Jīva as Dhṛtarāṣṭra: Blindness Carried Forward

Dhṛtarāṣṭra represents the Jīva—the individual being shaped by past karma. His blindness is not accidental and not limited to the eyes. It symbolizes a long-standing incapacity to see clearly, to discriminate, to restrain desire and attachment. This blindness is carried forward from previous births as samskāra. In this birth, it simply expresses itself openly.

Nothing in the story suggests that this Jīva could not have been aided. Blindness here is not fate sealed forever; it is a condition awaiting either reinforcement or correction.

Gandhārī as New Buddhi in a Fresh Birth

Gandhārī represents Buddhi, the faculty of intelligence and discernment. She is not blind by nature. She enters this life with clear seeing, moral strength, and the capacity to guide. Before marriage, she stands close to what can be called samaṣṭi buddhi—intelligence that is still aligned with universal order rather than personal entanglement.

This is crucial: Buddhi arrives fresh in this birth. It is capable of seeing what the Jīva cannot.

The Warnings of Elders and Gurus

The elders and gurus advise Gandhārī clearly to keep her eyes open. This is not a social detail; it is symbolic. It represents śāstra, dharma, and higher wisdom reminding Buddhi of its responsibility. The message is simple: do not abandon discernment. Love does not require blindness. Partnership does not demand the sacrifice of intelligence.

At this moment, a real choice exists.

The Decisive Act: Buddhi Choosing Slumber

Gandhārī sees the blindness of the Jīva she is about to join. Instead of remaining awake and serving as a mirror, she chooses symmetry. She decides that if the Jīva cannot see, she too will not see. This is not ignorance and not compulsion. It is a conscious, emotionally motivated decision.

Here, Buddhi abandons its dharma of viveka. It chooses companionship over correction, harmony over awakening, loyalty over truth. Intelligence does not illuminate; it lies down beside blindness. It is like the Kundalinī snake coiled and Śakti sleeping in the Mūlādhāra chakra.

This is the silent turning point of the epic.

Why This Is Not Compassion in Yogic Psychology

In yoga, compassion never requires the dimming of intelligence. Buddhi exists to bring clarity to the Jīva, not to anesthetize it. When Buddhi voluntarily suspends its seeing, it does not become noble; it becomes dormant. By blindfolding herself, Gandhārī validates the Jīva’s blindness and removes the very friction that could have led to awakening.

This is love that prefers peace over truth—and therefore sustains bondage.

Why the Jīva Remains Unawakened

A Jīva does not awaken simply because Buddhi is present. Awakening happens only when Buddhi stays awake. In this pairing, Buddhi becomes a sedative rather than medicine. The Jīva remains blind not because help was absent, but because help chose not to function.

This is the deepest tragedy: intelligence was available, but it refused its role.

Later Power, Earlier Failure

Gandhārī later demonstrates immense tapas and spiritual power. Her curse after the war is devastating. Yet this power appears only after irreparable damage has occurred. If she had seen and acted early, things could have changed. Acting only at the end changed nothing. A blind Buddhi practicing yoga may acquire various powers and siddhis, but it does not attain awakening.

Blindness postpones responsibility. What is not corrected early returns later as destruction. Similarly, a blind Buddhi practicing yoga may acquire various powers and siddhis later in life, but it does not attain awakening.

A Pattern That Repeats Everywhere

This story is not confined to an ancient epic. It repeats wherever intelligence dims itself to preserve relationship, wherever clarity is sacrificed to avoid disturbance, wherever love fears awakening more than ignorance. In such moments, Buddhi chooses sleep, and Jīva continues as it is.

Awareness cannot be awakened by someone who refuses to see.

Final Understanding: How Bondage Continues Quietly

The Jīva was blind due to past karma.
The Buddhi was seeing in this birth.
But Buddhi chose sleep over sight, companionship over awakening.

Thus blindness continued—not by fate, not by ignorance, but by a conscious choice made in the name of love.

Liberation does not fail because light is absent.
It fails when intelligence willingly turns away from seeing.

Beyond Death and Liberation: Holding Consciousness Between Worlds

A Personal Reflection on Trishanku, Vishvamitra, Kundalini, and the Inner Guru

How Compassion, Ritual, and Inner Prayer Hold Consciousness Until Liberation Ripens

The Classical Story of Trishanku: The King Suspended Between Heaven and Earth

In the ancient tradition, King Trishanku of the Ikshvāku lineage desired to ascend to heaven in his physical body. When the royal priests refused to perform the rite, he approached the sage Viśvāmitra, whose tapas was unmatched. Through his austere power, Viśvāmitra attempted to send Trishanku to the celestial realms, provoking resistance from the gods. When the ascent was obstructed, Trishanku was left suspended between heaven and earth, neither accepted by the devas nor returned to the mortal world. Refusing to let him fall, Viśvāmitra established him in a unique state—neither fully liberated nor condemned—where he remained held by the force of the sage’s tapas.

Rethinking the Trishanku Story: Blessing, Not Punishment

I have often felt that the story of Vishvamitra and King Trishanku is misunderstood. Most readings stop at ego, rivalry, or defiance of the gods. But to me, it feels very different. It feels like a blessing, not a punishment. Vishvamitra did not abandon Trishanku halfway. He held him.

I feel Vishvamitra created an abode for Trishanku not out of anger, but out of compassion. However, it may be understood as a spiritual anger directed toward the devas for denying liberation to Trishanku. It was pure and positive—aimed at growth, and getting inspiration to do a great job, not rivalry. Trishanku was not ready for full liberation, yet he should not have fallen back. So Vishvamitra, through tapas, prayer, and sheer inner power, held him in between—high enough to be safe, steady enough to ripen. This suspension itself feels like grace. Liberation is not always immediate. Sometimes it is protection from regression.

Rituals for the Departed: Collective Tapas in Everyday Life

When I look at society today, I see the same intention expressed differently. People perform Bhagavatam kathas, shraddhas, yagyas, pindas, and tarpanas, prayers, rest in peace or RIP for their departed loved ones. These are not empty rituals. They are collective efforts to hold consciousness high enough so that it does not collapse back into unconscious karmic drift. Vishvamitra did this alone. Ordinary people do it together, repeatedly, across time.

Seen this way, Trishanku becomes an archetype. Not damned. Not liberated. But protected. Suspended with care.

When the Myth Became Personal: My Own Experience

This is not just philosophy for me. It touched my life directly.

Dream Visitations and the Call for Assistance

After the death of a close acquaintance, I experienced her presence repeatedly in dream visitations. These were not frightening. They were not dramatic. They felt like a seeking—an unspoken request for assistance in liberation. I did not try to command anything. I did not panic. I prayed.

Prayer, Kundalini, and the Meaning of Urging God

I prayed strongly. I urged kundalini for her peace, for her liberation, for forgiveness of acts that might be preventing liberation, for release from unresolved weight. For me, kundalini is representative of God—not as a personality, but as the deepest intelligence of integration. Urging kundalini is urging God. It is aligning intention with the highest coherence of consciousness. We may even call it a personified dhyāna-supporting chitra that often lingers during savikalpa dhyāna and, as it converges toward nirvikalpa dhyāna, enables a smooth and rapid transition.

I also urge liberation for all beings, twice daily, in my dhyana. I do this because liberation is not a limited resource. It is not like physical matter that gets exhausted by giving. It is like light. It can be wished for all, together, without loss. This understanding feels very clear to me.

Signs of Resolution: Clarity, Softening, and Residual Sadness

Over time, I noticed something important. The appearances in dreams became clearer. Calmer. More refined. Each interaction carried less confusion. There was a subtle sadness present—not fear, not agitation—but a gentle sorrow. It felt connected to not being perfectly cared for during illness and the dying phase. I did not try to fix this sadness. I simply allowed it. I know it will resolve one day on its own.

This clarity felt like confirmation—not in a grand mystical sense, but in a quiet, settling way. Something was integrating. Something was being completed.

Kundalini as Dhyana Chitra: The Inner Guru Clarified

I want to be clear about one thing. When I speak of kundalini here, I mean dhyana chitra. The inner meditative image. The inner guru. Not a voice. Not an external command. Not an authority that tells me what to do. It is orientation, not instruction. It does not demand action. It dissolves naturally in meditation.

Where Resolution Truly Happens

On careful observation, I see that nothing was resolved outside me. The resolution happened within. A tense relational field completed itself, which is why clarity increased and interactions became softer instead of more intense.

This reflects the true purpose of ancient rituals. They were meant as acts of love, not fear—support rather than rescue, holding rather than pulling. Their role was to stabilize awareness, reduce downward pull, and allow natural ripening to occur. It means these practices certainly work in this world, and they may also have effects beyond it, in the afterworld as well.

Yogic Understanding: Death as Pratyahara and Suspension

From a yogic perspective, death itself is forced pratyahara. The danger is regression into old samskaras. Holding practices—whether tapas, prayer, ritual, or remembrance—keep awareness above that collapse point or above throat chakra. Trishanku’s suspension mirrors this exactly.

Psychological Grounding: Grief, Holding, and Completion

From a psychological perspective, this is also healthy grief. Remembering without clinging. Caring without binding. Letting go without denial. Societies that abandon ritual often carry unresolved trauma because transitions are left unheld.

Responsibility Without Burden

One crucial truth remains central to me. I am not responsible for liberating anyone. I am responsible for not obstructing liberation with fear, guilt, or attachment. My prayers are permission, not intervention. Opening, not pushing.

Why Experiences Fade When Resolution Occurs

That is why these experiences naturally fade. Fewer visitations. Less emotional charge. More neutrality. Eventual quiet disappearance. Resolution softens. It does not escalate.

This is the role of the inner guru. Not to act. Not to control. But to allow completion to happen without force.

Returning to Trishanku: The Archetype of Compassionate Suspension

When I look back at Vishvamitra and Trishanku now, the story feels intimate, not mythic. One consciousness holding another until gravity loosens. One being refusing to let another fall, without pretending readiness that is not yet there.

Different methods. Same compassion.

Not a Conclusion, But a Resting Place

This blog is not a conclusion. It is a resting place. A suspension that does not need to hurry. Just as liberation itself does not hurry.