The six fundamental emotional movements—Kāma, Krodha, Lobha, Moha, Mada, and Mātsarya—are not isolated states but root currents of consciousness. From these arise countless secondary and tertiary emotions, just as a single tree gives rise to many branches. Bhaya (fear), for example, does not exist independently; it emerges as a derivative expression when these primary forces remain unresolved or imbalanced. In the same way, the vast complexity of human emotional life can be traced back to varied combinations and distortions of these six foundational movements.
Fear arises when consciousness contracts from infinity into the illusion of separateness — and the quantum world offers perfect parallels for this contraction.
Bhaya (Fear) — Quantum Analogy
In human beings, fear is the vibration of insecurity that comes when we sense loss of control, separation from the whole, or threat to identity.
In the quantum world, this is mirrored by systems that resist uncertainty, collapse potential, or shield themselves from exposure to the infinite wave of possibilities.
Analogy 1 — Wavefunction Collapse (Fear of Uncertainty)
In the quantum domain, every particle exists as a probability wave — open, free, infinite in potential.
But the moment an observer measures it, the wave collapses into a single fixed state.
This collapse is the quantum reflection of fear — the system’s surrender of infinite possibility for the comfort of certainty.
Spiritual parallel: When fear arises, consciousness contracts from the infinite flow (“I can be anything”) to a limited self-image (“I must protect this”).
Just as observation kills superposition, fear kills freedom.
I was a fearful child—not violently bullied in the extreme sense, yet targeted enough for vulnerability to settle into my nervous system early. My physical weakness, later diagnosed as ankylosing spondylitis, had not yet surfaced as disease, but its genetic seed was present from birth, quietly keeping the body fragile; and fragility is noticed quickly, because the weak are always easier targets. It may also be that bullying is faced by everyone, but weaker individuals tend to panic more. At times fear would rise intensely, yet that very fear became the force that turned me inward toward spirituality, almost as a reflexive counter-movement—when identity weakens, fear weakens, and spirituality dissolves identity at its root—so what appeared as a curse became a blessing in disguise. Whenever I was established in a spiritual mode, fear simply could not touch me; it returned only in the worldly mode where identity reasserts itself, and this oscillation also hampered my worldly growth, because a fearful person cannot expand outwardly with confidence. In later school life, something unexpectedly protective occurred: I came into gentle, indirect company with girls, and bullish boys instinctively kept their distance; girls, cows, and the diseased are all traditionally considered weak, yet their company carried a peculiar fearlessness, the same unthreatened state I felt while grazing cows—an innocence untouched by social dominance. University life reversed this balance again; adolescent vulnerability was left unprotected, ragging in those days carried a ghostly brutality now largely controlled, and my weakness surfaced once more, though by then I had already entered a post-realisation phase—an awakening that had occurred momentarily in a dream state but left deep, lingering aftereffects. Empowered by that awakening and its fearlessness, I resisted and confronted what I would otherwise have endured silently, sometimes at the cost of my own life; once I was beaten severely, stripped to the last shred of dignity, and left broken, saved only by grace, yet throughout the episode I felt no fear at all. For nearly three years after that surge of awakening, my mind remained strangely conditioned—fear arose only when others narrated the seriousness of those events; otherwise I felt myself held by an invisible, divine handle, as though life itself had taken responsibility, and when I observed others trapped in their localized identities, I would momentarily return from the infinite to the finite and smile inwardly at the childlike seriousness with which they carried their fears. After about four years, something decisive crystallized: guided by an instinct that felt both divine and exact, I initiated a personal freedom-fighting movement based on a tit-for-tat principle—not out of aggression, but out of balance—and this erased even the last residual traces of fear, fitting wings simultaneously to my worldly and spiritual growth, a movement that has continued in quiet continuity till today. These oscillations between infinity and localization, between wave and particle, have accompanied me throughout life, and perhaps they must—for total transcendence may liberate inwardly, but some degree of localization remains necessary for functioning within the world.
Analogy 2 — Quantum Tunneling Barrier (Fear of Crossing the Unknown)
Electrons sometimes face an energy barrier they can cross only by tunneling — a process that defies classical logic.
A fearful system “hesitates” at the threshold, staying trapped in its potential well rather than tunneling through to freedom.
Likewise, fear in humans prevents transcendence beyond familiar boundaries.
Spiritual parallel: Enlightenment requires quantum tunneling of awareness — the courage to pass through the barrier of ego into the infinite. Fear keeps one oscillating inside the well of the known.
Many people are unable to begin their livelihood or entrepreneurial journey simply because of fear—fear of obstacles, fear of failure, fear of loss—and as a result remain unemployed or under-engaged throughout life. Obstacles are not accidental; they are necessary filters that test capacity, discipline, and intelligence, and they reward efficiency—without such filters, society cannot grow qualitatively. These barriers are meant to be crossed intact, not destroyed, just as a wall defines a meaningful passage rather than being removed altogether. To a fearful person, however, such obstacles appear impossible, because he is afraid of harm and of losing his fixed, conditioned identity while confronting them. When that rigid identity dissolves—along with the fears tied to it—and one becomes inwardly free, like a wave containing multiple possibilities rather than a single forced path, intelligence itself reveals a way forward that avoids collision altogether. Success, then, lies not in being uni-optional but in becoming multi-optional. In quantum physics, a particle restricted to a single path must strike a barrier to proceed, but by retaining its wave nature—by remaining open to multiple possibilities—it finds a way through without direct penetration, appearing almost miraculous. Great business leaders resemble such quantum entities: they do not entangle themselves in every detail of their enterprise, nor do they confront every obstacle head-on; instead, they operate with flexibility and strategic distance, allowing systems to function smoothly while preserving clarity, momentum, and inner freedom.
Analogy 3 — Quantum Entropy and Instability (Fear of Dissolution)
Particles and systems constantly try to maintain stability against entropy and decay.
This “clinging to form” mirrors the fear of death — a resistance to dissolution into the larger field.
But in truth, entropy is not destruction; it is reintegration into the quantum field — just as death is reintegration into consciousness.
Spiritual parallel: The enlightened one sees entropy as liberation; the fearful one sees it as loss.
In essence, fear (bhaya) is not merely an emotion but a fundamental contraction of consciousness. Just as a quantum wave collapses into a fixed particle when forced to choose prematurely, fear compresses infinite inner potential into a narrow, hesitant identity. This contraction creates resistance—resistance to uncertainty, to entropy, and to the natural flow of life—making even passable obstacles appear insurmountable. Spiritually, fear arises from the illusion of separateness, where the self is perceived as fragile, isolated, and threatened by the unknown. In this contracted state, one hesitates before action, clings to safety, and avoids passage, much like a particle that fears entering a barrier. When fear dissolves, the self expands again into its wave-like nature—fluid, multi-optional, and inwardly secure—allowing movement without collision and action without anxiety. Thus, fear is best understood not as danger itself, but as the inward withdrawal from one’s own infinite capacity.
Demystifying Kundalini 