Tag: spirituality

Chapter 23: The Atom Is You – A New Way to See Yourself

From the great canvas of cosmos where stars swirl like sparks scattered in infinite space, the journey once again narrows its focus, drawing the gaze back toward the human form. The previous exploration had revealed how the same rhythm that patterns galaxies also structures the body, how the vast universal flow reflects itself in the miniature figure of flesh and bone. It was a movement outward, tracing the human outline until it dissolved into the map of stars. Now the path turns inward with equal wonder, asking with trembling curiosity: if the cosmos is within the body, what lies within the very atom that builds this body?

The human body is not merely made of atoms; it is the dance of atoms. There is no gap where something called “body” exists apart from them. The eyes that watch, the hands that move, the thoughts that arise, all are formations of vibrating atomic fields. To say “my body” is already a step too far, for what ownership can be claimed over trillions of particles borrowed from earth, water, air, and fire? Atoms flow through food, through breath, through the touch of the environment. They do not belong to an individual; they simply assemble for a while in the pattern that is recognized as a person.

Ego, however, is clever. It rushes forward like a signature stamped on a moving river, claiming that this function of walking, this act of speaking, this thought of dreaming, is mine. Yet in truth it never possessed the materials of its claim. The muscles are shaped by proteins from food that grew in distant fields, the thoughts are stirred by impressions absorbed from a world stretching beyond sight, the very breath is gifted freely by trees and winds that circle the planet. Ego is like a shadow insisting it owns the sun.

Think of your true self like the sun—always shining, always there. Your ego is like a shadow—always around you, moving with you. The shadow never really controls the sun, but it can’t help acting like it does. In the same way, your thoughts, your roles, and your “I am this” ideas feel important, but they aren’t who you truly are. They only reflect the real you. No matter how much the ego claims or worries, the true self stays free, untouched, and shining on its own.

Consider the simple atom. It seems so small that the mind struggles to picture it, yet it is a kingdom of vastness in itself. Within it, electrons spin in mysterious clouds, protons and neutrons huddle in a vibrant heart, and within that heart quarks shimmer like restless sparks. Each layer recedes into deeper mysteries, like a hall of mirrors extending without end. The more science peers into the atom, the less substance it finds, until matter itself dissolves into probabilities, vibrations, and wave-like dances of energy. Thus the atom is not a hard grain but an event, not a brick of reality but a doorway into uncertainty. It’s more like a little event or a happening—always moving, always changing. You can’t pin it down completely, and it behaves in ways that are a bit unpredictable. So instead of thinking of atoms as fixed building blocks, think of them as tiny sparks of activity that make up the world around us.

Now pause for a moment and realize: the body is nothing but the collective appearance of these doorways. What is called “flesh” is a swarm of events, what is called “thought” is a ripple of atomic processes, what is called “emotion” is an orchestration of subtle biochemical storms. To identify with them as a permanent self (mind-body sense of self) is like mistaking a rainbow for a solid bridge. The rainbow glows, astonishes, and vanishes—yet no one can catch it. The self too appears as a dazzling formation, radiant yet elusive, made of atoms that do not stay in one place, do not belong to one being, and do not even truly exist as solid matter.

If the body is made of atoms, and those atoms also make up the world, then the ego is only a claim over what was never truly ours. It is like writing your name in sand while the waves keep washing the shore. With every breath, atoms flow out into the air; with every meal, atoms flow in from the earth. Each day, billions of particles leave the body and billions more enter, so the boundary called “me” is never fixed. A person is more like a whirlpool in a river—shaped for a time, distinct to the eye, yet made only of water that flows in and out. What we call “me” is never separate from the stream it belongs to, but part of the river’s continuous, unbroken flow.

Yet there is an even deeper turning in this inquiry. For just as the body is not separate from atoms, and atoms are not separate from the universe, so too the person is not truly separate from awareness itself. While accepting the physical unity between body and world, how can we deny their mental or spiritual unity as well?This is the final and most delicate insight of Sharirvigyan Darshan, leading us to the ultimate non-physical through the doorway of the physical. Atoms appear, bodies appear, worlds appear, but they all rise within a field of witnessing or silent and pure awareness that itself cannot be touched, weighed, or measured. Awareness does not belong to atoms any more than the sky belongs to clouds. Clouds drift and scatter, yet the sky is not reduced or enhanced by their passing. In the same way, awareness remains open, untouched, while atoms whirl and assemble into the temporary form of a body.

This recognition overturns every ordinary assumption. When the body is mistaken as self, life becomes heavy with fear and desire. Fear arises because what is owned can be lost, and desire arises because what is lacking seems to complete the self. But when it is seen that the body is only an arrangement of atoms, the grip loosens. There is no need to clutch at what was never owned. The hands may still work, the heart may still love, but the compulsion to control lessens, replaced by a spacious ease. Even death itself begins to appear in new light—not as the end of a self but as the recycling of atoms into new patterns, like clay reshaped into new vessels. This means we need not meditate separately on the pure self; simply seeing the body as a temporary arrangement of atoms is enough to bring the pure self into view. This contemplation looks similar to that experiential facet of Sharirvigyan Darshan, where body cells are seen as complete human beings in every aspect—a contemplation that led the author to a Kundalini awakening and a glimpse of self-realization.

Science too whispers of this mystery, though in different words. It tells that energy cannot be destroyed, only transformed. The carbon of the body once burned in stars, the oxygen once flowed through ancient forests, the water once traveled in rivers older than mountains. At death, these elements scatter once more into the world, ready for new cycles. Awareness, however, is not part of this cycle of matter. It does not scatter or rearrange, because it is not made of atoms. It is the stage upon which the atomic drama unfolds.

This is the new way to see oneself: not as a solid individual enclosed within skin, not as a fixed identity defined by thought, but as the open awareness within which atoms gather and dissolve. The “I” that ordinarily feels so heavy is only an appearance, like an add on to pure awareness or like moving and chaotic reflections upon clean and still water. To recognize this is not to deny the body but to appreciate it more deeply, as one appreciates a song without claiming ownership of each note.

Mystics of many traditions hinted at this long before modern physics unfolded its revelations. They spoke of the world as maya, as dreamlike appearance, as shimmering play. Now science confirms that matter is not solid but probability, not substance but energy. Means, matter is not truly solid but energy shaped as a cloud of probabilities, where particles can be in many possible states at once. Only when observed or interacted with do these probabilities collapse into a single definite event we call “reality.” The mystic gaze and the scientific gaze meet at the threshold of the atom, both astonished at the emptiness and wonder that lie within.

This insight does not remove life’s responsibilities or dissolve the needs of the world. Rather, it lends them a gentler context. Work is still done, relationships are still cherished, struggles still appear. But underneath, there grows a subtle knowing that no function is truly “mine.” All our actions come from the whole, shaped by atoms and situations. They appear in pure awareness for a moment and then fade back into it. Ego may still claim them out of habit, but the claim no longer deceives as it once did.

To live with this understanding is to live like a wave that knows it is ocean. The wave rises, dances, and falls, yet never ceases to be ocean in essence. In the same way, the human being may rise in laughter, fall in grief, shine in love, tremble in fear, yet beneath every form lies the same undivided pure awareness. Atoms may assemble into different names and faces, but awareness remains one, endless, without division.

Thus the atom becomes not merely a scientific curiosity but a spiritual mirror. It teaches that the smallest unit of matter is already a gateway into infinity. It makes us see that nothing is really ours to hold on to, because everything is always changing and flowing. Behind all this change there is a quiet awareness that never changes. When we realize this, we find a freedom that nothing in life can shake, because it rests on what is permanent, not on what is temporary.

Our journey can move outward, studying the body and the cosmos, and inward, exploring atoms and finally the awareness that observes them. At first we see only the physical world—our body and the stars—but the real adventure leads us back to the center of our own consciousness. When this is seen, life appears as a play of light and energy, like atoms glowing as tiny fireflies or conscious beings within pure awareness. In that vision, we no longer feel the need to possess or control anything, but instead feel deeply connected, belonging to the whole.

Quantum darshan; Chapter 19 – Parity: The Tilt of Creation

At the very start, the universe was almost perfectly balanced — like a mirror showing the same picture on both sides. It simply means, In the beginning, the universe was perfectly symmetric—there was no left-right distinction between object and image, no real-virtual difference between the two, and although charges, forces etc. were opposite, they were exactly equal, creating a state of complete balance. Every particle, every force, every tiny action had an equal and opposite twin. If the universe had stayed this way, nothing would have moved. Nothing would have changed. Nothing would have existed as we know it.

But the universe didn’t stay perfectly balanced. It tilted. Even a tiny tilt was enough to start everything moving and changing. This small imbalance is seen in two important ways in science:

  1. Parity asymmetry – Some forces in nature, like the weak nuclear force, do not treat left and right the same. Tiny differences here meant that the universe could have direction, that one side could behave differently from the other. The weak nuclear force is the only one that prefers one “handed” direction over the other, breaking the mirror symmetry of nature. This tiny one-sidedness preferred reactions that allowed matter to win slightly over antimatter after the Big Bang, making the very existence of stars, worlds, and life possible. Likewise inside the body, If prana flowed perfectly symmetrically in the Sushumna, meaning equal left and right, equal up and down, there would be no directional impulse—no manifestation of individual experience, no creation of worlds—just pure nonduality, just as perfect parity symmetry would prevent matter from winning over antimatter, leaving the universe empty. This imbalance in the magnitude of prana drives specific emotions and actions. When the upward-moving prana is dominant, a person becomes more spiritually oriented; when the downward prana is stronger, one is more physically inclined. Similarly, greater prana flow in the left channel (Ida Nadi) makes a person more feminine, while dominance in the right channel (Pingala Nadi) makes one more masculine. When prana becomes equal in all directions, the opposing currents neutralize each other, leading to breathlessness in Kevala Kumbhaka or Nirvikalpa Samadhi—a thoughtless pre-creative state, just like the stage preceding the beginning of creation.
  2. Matter-antimatter imbalance – At the beginning, matter and antimatter were almost equal. But there was a tiny excess of matter. This small difference is why stars, planets, and life exist at all. Without it, everything would have destroyed itself in a flash of energy. Likewise inside the body, at the very beginning, the potentials for stillness and manifestation were almost equal: the upward and downward currents in the Sushumna flowed symmetrically, just as matter and antimatter existed in nearly equal amounts. Then a tiny excess of upward flow appeared, creating just enough imbalance to spark individual experience—thoughts, sensations, and life—allowing consciousness to unfold into worlds, while a small excess of matter over antimatter allowed stars, planets, and life to exist. Without this slight tilt, everything would remain in perfect nonduality, like a universe where matter and antimatter annihilate each other completely, or a Sushumna where energy flows perfectly symmetrically, producing no manifestation at all.

Let us rewrite this in further detail. At the very beginning, the universe was almost perfectly balanced, like a mirror reflecting an object — left and right were opposite in appearance but equal and followed the same rules. Although they appear slightly unequal—differing only in direction—they remain identical in their underlying laws and reactions. In other words, both have been said equal with respect to rules obeyed, not appearance. This is called symmetry: even if something looks reversed, its behavior is still predictable and is equal to parent form. But if the universe had stayed perfectly symmetric meaning if particles and their mirror images were equal in number, nothing would have moved or changed. Everything would have cancelled out with its mirror image. Matter and antimatter would have destroyed each other, forces would have canceled out, and creation could not have begun. Treat antimatter as mirror image of matter. A tiny tilt — a small breaking of symmetry of number or force — changed everything. Weak forces began to treat left and right differently, a scientifically proven effect called parity violation, and some reactions slightly favored matter over antimatter — a phenomenon known as CP violation or charge-pairity violation. Matter and antimatter always have opposite charges. Matter is what makes up the universe — electrons, protons, and neutrons — while antimatter is their “mirror opposite,” like positrons and antiprotons. Normally, when matter and antimatter meet, they annihilate each other, producing energy. But in experimental particle decays, there is a slightly higher probability for matter to form than antimatter. Though these differences are extremely tiny, they pile up repeatedly in the early universe, eventually creating a small excess of matter that formed all the stars, planets, and life we see today. Even at the quantum level, particles exist in multiple possibilities, and one outcome becomes real when measured — this is called quantum collapse. Together, these scientifically proven effects explain how the universe tilted, giving direction to galaxies, allowing stars to burn, molecules to have “handedness,” and life to grow. Symmetry alone is stillness, like calm water; breaking symmetry is motion, like a river flowing. Creation began with this first tilt, the subtle imbalance that turned potential into reality, stillness into movement, and possibility into the living, evolving universe we see today. Yet at the deepest level, why nature has these rules — why left differs from right, or matter slightly outweighs antimatter — remains one of the greatest mysteries of existence. The same mystery extends to the body as well: why Ida differs from Pingala, or why the upward surge of energy outweighs the downward flow, remains one of the greatest mysteries of existence. Philosophically, it may be regarded as the growth-oriented wish of the Almighty Supreme.

If we dissect it further, in the universe, symmetry is subtle and sometimes broken. Parity (P) violation shows that nature is not perfectly left-right symmetric — the weak force “prefers” one handedness. Charge (C) violation reveals that swapping particles with their antiparticles (means replacing particles with their antiparticles or in other words charged particle made oppositely charged antiparticle) does not always produce identical behavior and weak nuclear force does not affect them equally. CP violation goes deeper: even after combining a mirror flip with a particle-antiparticle swap means after directional swap and trying to correct it with charge swap, a tiny asymmetry still remains. While P and C can be violated independently, Parity violation (P) was already known in the weak force — it treats left and right differently. When scientists combined parity violation with charge conjugation (C), which swaps particles with antiparticles, they expected the two violations to cancel out. But experiments showed that even this combined symmetry (CP) is slightly violated — meaning a small imbalance still remains. In other words, CP violation means that an imbalance — arising from the combined effects of charge violation and parity violation — still remains, although it is reduced after attempting to correct the parity violation through particle swapping. This tiny leftover asymmetry is crucial, as it helps explain why matter dominates over antimatter in the universe, showing that the cosmos itself carries an inherent, subtle bias at the most fundamental level. In yogic terms, If the asymmetry between the upward and downward prana is balanced by shifting the flow between Ida and Pingala, a subtle imbalance still remains — and this residual asymmetry gives rise to thoughts.

In yoga and the human body, symmetry too is subtle and often incomplete. The two sides of the body — ida and pingala, lunar and solar currents — represent the left-right (P) aspect of our internal energy field. Perfect balance between them creates stillness; imbalance generates movement and evolution. The charge (C) aspect parallels the polarity of emotion and intention — attraction and aversion, desire and renunciation — our human version of positive and negative charge. Yoga gradually harmonizes these forces, yet even after deep purification, a faint residue of imbalance often remains — the yogic equivalent of CP violation. This subtle leftover tendency — neither purely active nor passive, neither fully detached nor fully engaged — becomes the creative bias that sustains individual existence, just as cosmic CP violation sustains matter itself. Without that faint asymmetry, neither the universe nor the yogi would manifest as a living, evolving expression. Hence, the aim is not to erase all imbalance, but to realize its sacred role — the gentle imperfection that allows consciousness to experience itself as creation.

In another analogy, In the beginning, both the universe and a perfectly still mind were in flawless balance—no left or right, no real or virtual, just pure symmetry. Yet, tiny biases—like subtle impulses in meditation or CP violation in particles—created small differences. Normally, perfect balance would erase them, but a slight openness lets them persist, seeding growth: in the cosmos, it became stars and galaxies; in the mind, it becomes evolving awareness. From the subtlest imperfection, the greatest creations arise.

Think of a pot of water. If the pot is perfectly still, the water stays still. Tilt it just a little, and the water flows. That’s what happened with the universe — it leaned slightly, and the flow of galaxies, stars, and life began.

In Indian philosophy, this is like Shiva and Shakti. Shiva is stillness, perfect balance. Shakti is movement, the first tilt, the first action that starts creation. Without Shakti, the universe would remain frozen and silent.

Even at the tiniest level, in the world of quantum particles, things can exist in many possibilities at once. When a particle is measured or interacts with something, one possibility becomes real — this is called quantum collapse. By itself, quantum collapse doesn’t create the universe’s tilt, but it shows how possibilities become reality. The real tilt comes from nature’s small preferences — like the slight favoring of matter over antimatter.

In the human field of consciousness, countless thoughts, emotions, and intentions also exist in superposition — potential realities waiting to be chosen. The moment awareness focuses on one thought or emotion, that possibility collapses into experience — just like a quantum event manifesting from probability. Meditation trains this awareness to become a silent observer, reducing unnecessary collapses caused by mental restlessness. Yet, even in deep stillness, the mind retains its subtle bias — its own version of nature’s tilt — a gentle preference shaped by tendencies (vasanas) and latent impressions (samskaras). The subtle bias within consciousness sustains individuality, propelling life’s continuity from moment to moment. Yoga doesn’t erase this bias but purifies it until the remaining preference aligns with truth itself. Then, consciousness begins to choose effortlessly — not from ego, but as pure intelligence expressing harmony. What once was mental decision becomes spontaneous movement, free of tension or motive. Every action, word, or thought arises as if the universe itself is flowing through the individual. This is quantum darshan — the direct seeing where observer and observed merge, and infinite potentials collapse into form by the silent will of Truth. Life then unfolds naturally, every moment luminous, precise, and whole — not chosen by someone, but happening through the still radiance of awareness itself.

Because of these tiny tilts, the universe works the way it does:

  • Galaxies spin in certain directions. This is reflection of directional preference of quantum world.
  • Stars burn matter, not antimatter. This is like life shines with ascending energy in spine.
  • Life uses molecules with a preferred “hand” (left-handed or right-handed). Amino acids of proteins, the main building blocks of body have left handed twists.
  • Time moves forward, never backward. On paper or equation, it can move backward but in reality, time always moves forward.

Without these tiny imbalances, nothing would grow, nothing would change, nothing would exist. Symmetry is like calm, still water. Asymmetry is like a river flowing toward the sea. Symmetry is silence; asymmetry is life itself.

Everything we see — from the tiniest particle to the largest galaxy — began with a tiny tilt, the first small imbalance that made the universe start moving, growing, and creating.

Similarly, within the human being, perfect balance is pure stillness — samadhi, where all dualities dissolve into calm symmetry. Yet life as we know it arises from tiny tilts within that stillness — the pull of desire, the urge to breathe, the impulse to move, to love, to seek. Just as the cosmos began from a minute asymmetry, the human journey unfolds from the faint imbalance between rest and expression, awareness and activity, Shiva and Shakti. Too much symmetry and one dissolves into stillness; too much asymmetry and one is lost in turbulence. Yoga is the art of keeping this sacred tilt alive — not erasing it, but refining it until it flows in harmony with the universal rhythm. In that subtle dance between silence and movement, the yogi mirrors the cosmos: still at the center, yet ever-creating at the edge.

Awareness at the Anahata Chakra – Healing Through the Goddess Within

I began my yoga practice at 5 a.m. today. The air was still, mind silent, and body ready. After spinal breathing, I moved through guru-given yoga and my own selected set, including chakra meditation from top to bottom — without holding breath. These days I avoid breath-holding to prevent excess head pressure. Yet I’ve realized there’s no real need to fear it; the head has an incredible capacity to bear and balance the force of prana.

Once, during a dream-state gastric uprising, I experienced immense head pressure, momentary choking, and a transient rise in blood pressure — but the body adjusted beautifully. It reminded me that a well-practiced body knows how to balance itself. So, my preparatory yogic routine continued for about an hour and a half — enough to create the internal yogic pressure required for launching into dhyana.

I know this yogic pressure is temporary. It gradually dissolves into the luminosity of dhyana, just like gas slowly burning out from an LPG cylinder. And when that inner fuel finishes, the practitioner naturally returns from dhyana — first through strong internal contractions from lower to upper area of body backside as to facilitate the movement of energy in the three main spinal channels, followed by the gradual deepening of breath. When the breath returns to normal, the eyes open by themselves. The same happened today.

During dhyana, Vajrasana again gave an excellent starting response. Subtle breathing began automatically at the Ajna Chakra and continued for quite long. Yet all along, I felt a kind of sexually blissful senation at the Anahata Chakra. I was including this bliss within my Ajna-to-Muladhara meditation line, so both centers — Ajna and Anahata — were simultaneously satisfied. No other centres seemed power hungry. Later, I shifted my dhyana solely to Anahata. The awareness deepened there, but the main purpose of dhyana — the realization of Shunya (void) — was not completely fulfilled there. So, I again combined both Ajna and Anahata awareness together.

I recall a Kriya Yoga expert once said that “spinal meditation alone can’t grant liberation.” He emphasized that Ajna Chakra meditation includes the whole spinal system. Today, I understood his point deeply — indeed, every chakra of the backbone is reflected within Ajna. Yet, even knowing this, my sensational awareness remained localized at the rear Anahata Chakra, unwilling to move elsewhere, although breathing awareness was on agya chakra.

Yesterday my focus was at Vishuddhi Chakra, where I had a throat infection. That infection cleared today, but the infection and along with it the energy had descended to the chest. This shows how sensitively these inner sensations mirror physical conditions — a subtle diagnostic test and often a healing mechanism. Still, medicines nowadays help more directly, supporting this inner process. In ancient times, diagnosis and healing through awareness given the form of the Goddess held prime importance, as there were not so many worldly facilities available.

As I visualized the Goddess at the Anahata, the rising sexual bliss from the Muladhara seemed to empower Her presence. I could faintly see Her fighting demons — symbolic of microorganisms — within my chest. It felt as if the Anahata Chakra itself had become a Lingam, the real blissful lingam now manifesting only there.

After about thirty minutes, when my legs cramped, I slowly shifted to Sukhasana, minimizing body movement while keeping awareness rooted at Ajna to avoid breaking dhyana. I then sat for another hour, not breaking earlier feeling that Shakti was healing my heart center and its connected tissues.

Towards the end, a magnificent experience unfolded — a clear perception of Shunya, more radiant than yesterday. It felt as though I was seeing the infinite sky directly above, though my head was hardly tilted upward.

Reflections:
The heart center feels open today — calm, luminous, and healing. The Shakti there is gentle yet profound. Awareness no longer seems confined to a point but spread like the sky itself. Every breath now feels like a hymn in the temple of the heart. Moreover, I was quite busy intellectually yesterday, so it seems that heavy intellectual work facilitates dhyana; however, it can also take a toll on the body’s health.

Diwali Week: A Yogi’s Practical Insights Through Temple Experiences

This Diwali week, after a long journey, I visited my ancestral home and stayed there for several days. It was a joyful time — being again with family, relatives, and friends, celebrating the festival of lights in full enthusiasm. Yet along with the outer joy, many new practical yogic experiences unfolded naturally.

I was so involved in the living flow of the festival — meeting people, travelling, helping family, and feeling the spirit of Diwali — that I could not write them down then. But within those days, in between the busy movements, I received sharp insights that no book or teaching could give. These experiences came in the most natural settings — especially when I got moments of solitude inside the city temples while my family was shopping nearby.

Day 1 – Durga–Bhairav Temple: The Dual Anchor of Meditation

On the first day, after dropping my family at a city shopping complex, I went straight to a Durga temple.
There, in front of the large and powerful idol of Maa Durga, I sat in padmāsana. The moment I closed my eyes, deep stillness descended. Soon, the breath became effortless — almost absent — and I entered Kevala Kumbhak, the natural breathless dhyāna.

At intervals, I opened my eyes and looked at the idol. Every single glance into the serene face of Durga instantly deepened the state again, as if the outer image was helping the inner form stabilize. The image remained alive even after closing the eyes, glowing vividly in the mental screen — not as imagination, but as a living vibration.

In front of Durga’s idol was a smaller statue of Bhairav. When the attention slightly tired or mind became neutral, I gazed at Bhairav’s image instead. Strangely, his gaze and energy acted as another anchor, rekindling the stillness from a different polarity — sharp, grounding, and stabilizing.

Thus, I discovered a beautiful rhythm: when Durga’s compassionate presence began to feel saturated, I turned to Bhairav’s fierce calmness; when that too reached a plateau, I returned to Durga.
It was like alternating currents of Shakti and Shiva, feminine and masculine energy, balancing and sustaining each other — a living demonstration of Ardhanārīśvara tattva.

Perhaps this is the deeper reason why Durga and Bhairav idols are placed together in many temples. For ordinary devotees, it represents protection and blessing. But for a yogi, it becomes a direct energetic mechanism — allowing both polarities of consciousness to support dhyāna.
The ordinary mind may see the idol as an object, but the yogic mind perceives it as a mirror of consciousness.

I realized that idols (pratimā) are not merely symbolic or devotional aids — they are scientific instruments of meditation. For a sincere meditator, the benefit is immediate and measurable: the mind falls into stillness the very moment one connects with the living image. That is direct proof, not belief.

Others, who approach idols only through tradition or emotion, also receive benefits, though subtler and delayed. But to a real yogi, the result is instant — the statue becomes alive, the mind becomes no-mind.

Evening – Shulini Sister Temple: The Silent Pindi and the Deep Breathless Stillness

In the evening of the same day, when my family again went for shopping, I visited Shulini Mata’s sister temple.
The environment was deeply sattvic like earlier temple: gentle movement of people, occasional ringing of the temple bell, mantra chants from distant devotees, the fragrance of burning incense, oil lamps glowing in rows, and from time to time, the conch sound from the priest echoing through the hall.
Each element seemed perfectly tuned to draw the consciousness inward.

The main deity was not a fully personified idol but a stone pindi — a simple mound of stone representing the goddess. Silver eyes were fixed on it, with tiny black dots marking the pupils, and a nose faintly carved in the middle. Despite this simplicity, or perhaps because of it, the image radiated immense power.

As I sat before it, the same Kevala Kumbhak arose again naturally — effortless, spontaneous, and prolonged. The experience was even deeper than in the morning. I remained in vajrāsana for forty-five minutes to an hour. My legs went numb, yet the body felt weightless, pain absent. Awareness remained centered, breath minimal, mind absorbed in the living vibration of the pindi.

That evening, I learned that personification is not necessary for divine connection. Even a symbolic form — if approached in stillness — can become a complete doorway to samādhi.
What matters is the state of mind, not the complexity of the idol.

Day 2 – Shani Temple and Saraswati Painting: The Spontaneous Prāṇāyāma Emerges

The next day, while on the way to relatives’ home, my family again stopped for shopping. I dropped them out of the car, parked it safely, and started searching for a new temple — a change that could help me enter deeper dhyāna again without feeling bored. It made me realize that the more temples there are, the better it is for a seeker; one can keep visiting different temples daily and repeat the cycle once all have been covered. This means it is good, both socially and economically, to build as many temples as possible. That is exactly why we see countless temples in pilgrimage towns. Some people may ask, “Why so many? Why not just one?” But human likings differ — just as there are many kinds of sweets, not only one. The same principle applies here. I found a Shani temple nearby and decided to sit there for a while. The main sanctum was closed, but on the outer wall was a small painting of Goddess Saraswati. I sat on the cool marble floor and used that painting as my dhyāna anchor. As concentration deepened, something remarkable happened: effortless rhythmic breaths began — not forced, not practiced, but arising on their own. Each inbreath was imperceptible; each outbreath carried a subtle sound — like a soft, continuous “gharr” vibration, resembling bhrāmarī prāṇāyāma but much subtler and self-born.

The awareness stayed steady, and the breath pattern continued automatically — a clear reminder that real prāṇāyāma is spontaneous, not mechanical.

Scriptures mention countless types of prāṇāyāma and their benefits, but the essence is often misunderstood. The yogi who practices Kundalinī Yoga eventually discovers that these classical prāṇāyāmas are natural by-products of inner awakening — not techniques to be imitated but symptoms of true meditative absorption.

When energy begins to move naturally through the channels (nāḍīs), prāṇa itself reshapes the breathing pattern according to the need of inner transformation. Trying to imitate these states from scriptures — without the foundation of dhyāna — may give some outer sensations, but they are superficial.
Such imitation can even give illusion of attainment — a feeling that one has mastered all prāṇāyāma — while in truth, the deeper awakening remains untouched.

Therefore, one must understand that the real prāṇāyāma of the scriptures refers to the spontaneous phenomenon arising during deep kundalinī sādhanā, not the deliberate breathing exercises often mistaken for it. I don’t know, but perhaps these superficial forms of prāṇāyāma gradually lead to deeper dhyāna, either in a worldly or spiritual way. One may also become accustomed to them, so that when spontaneous prāṇāyāma arises naturally, it doesn’t come as a shock. Therefore, even these external practices should be taken positively.

Summary Insight

Across all these temple experiences, one truth became clearer:

  • Idols, images, and symbols are not only external aids but also living focal points for consciousness.
  • The feminine and masculine energies (Durga–Bhairav) act alternately to balance the mind.
  • The form of deity — whether human-like or abstract — is secondary; the stillness it invokes is the real prāṇa.
  • True prāṇāyāma, like true samādhi, happens naturally in the state of inner silence.

These few days of Diwali brought me both family joy and spiritual refinement. I returned back with a deep gratitude — for the divine presence that works through simple images, through silence, through breathless stillness, and even through the seemingly ordinary circumstances of daily life.

In this way, the festival of light truly became a festival of inner illumination.

When Sleepiness Became Dhyana

After a few days of worldly indulgence—caught up in the sense of heightened ambition for a minor physical property, working tirelessly for it—I noticed my yoga routine faltered. The rhythm that once carried me into calm depth grew shaky. My sittings reduced, and the familiar breathless stillness in dhyana did not appear.

When the worldly deal finally finished, I spent two or three days trying to regain the lost acceleration. As soon as I opened my eyes in the morning—whatever the time—I would rise from bed and first sit for dhyana, then yoga, alternating both. Today I rose around three-thirty in the morning. I went through everything including both types of neti and also dhouti, yet the breathless dhyana eluded me.

Later, after lunch, while sitting in vajrasana, I caught a small glimpse of that breathless state. In the evening I sat long—from four-thirty to five-thirty. The breathing was like a rocket, fast and fierce, and it wouldn’t calm down despite simple watching and the mental recitation of Soham. Then a kind of drowsiness appeared, an urge to lie down. I resisted it, and soon the body grew tired enough that it couldn’t keep pace with the breath. The breathing itself began to subside and finally became breathless, although not fully as earlier. I couldn’t hold it beyond an hour, but something new dawned on me: perhaps deep dhyana is like sleep—but with awareness.

It felt like a discovery. If I keep trying while sitting, and tiredness and sleepiness develop, deep dhyana comes of its own accord. There seems to be a lot of similarity between sleep and yoga, so much so that many people say I’m just sitting and pretending to do yoga while actually sleeping.

That realization opened an inner understanding. What I had stumbled upon matched what the old yogic insights describe. After intense worldly activity, the rajas in the system—the restless energy of ambition—agitated the prana and made the mind outward-bent. That’s why my yoga was disturbed. Yoga thrives on sattva, on balance. The disturbance wasn’t a fall; it was simply the pendulum of prana swinging outward before returning inward.

When I sat again, the period of “rocket-speed” breathing was the body’s way of clearing that outward energy. The prana was neutralizing the residue of worldly intensity. Such rapid breathing often comes when sadhana resumes after heavy worldly engagement.

Then the fatigue came. The body wanted rest. I understood that this sleepiness wasn’t an obstacle—it was a doorway. When the body tires, egoic control relaxes. Effort softens. The automatic patterns of breath and thought lose momentum. If awareness remains present, if I do not slip into ordinary sleep, what unfolds is wakeful stillness—a state like sleep, yet suffused with consciousness.

In yogic terms, this is the threshold where the transition from waking (jagrat) toward turiya begins, passing through a “sleep-like” quiet where only awareness remains and the body and breath rest deeply. Breathless samadhi doesn’t come through effort but through the total exhaustion of effort.

It became clear that when striving ends and awareness simply watches, the body may fall into sleep-like repose, breath may stop, and consciousness alone remains. That is the path leading into Yoga Nidra, Dhyana, and Turiya alike.

Yoga Nidra, Breathless Dhyana, and Turiya—One Thread

I saw that all three—Yoga Nidra, Turiya, and breathless Dhyana—are reached through the very process I experienced. The difference lies only in depth and continuity.

Yoga Nidra happens when body and senses withdraw, mind slows, thoughts fade, and a gentle sleepiness comes while awareness stays faintly awake. Breath grows light or pauses briefly. I realized that the tiredness and sleepiness bringing deep dhyana are the same threshold where Yoga Nidra begins.

Deep Dhyana or Kevala Kumbhaka unfolds when mind and effort both stop. Awareness is steady and bright. Because the mind’s vibration ceases, breath naturally ceases too. The breathless state comes not from control but from silence itself. Here time and body vanish; only luminous stillness remains.

And Turiya—the “fourth state”—is that awareness of awareness itself. It’s the substratum beneath waking, dream, and sleep. When I stay aware through the Yoga-Nidra-like stillness, without slipping into sleep, consciousness recognizes itself. Breathlessness is incidental; the real mark is unbroken awareness through all states.

Yoga Nidra quiets the mind; Dhyana stills both mind and breath; Turiya shines as the background of all. They don’t come strictly one after another in time but unfold in depth. Breathless dhyana uncovers Turiya; Turiya is what remains when even the sense of meditating dissolves.

So, the relationship is simple:
Yoga Nidra is mental slowing with calm breath,
Breathless Dhyana is total stillness of mind and breath,
Turiya is the foundation discovered when stillness itself is seen to be one’s own nature. Means it is like samadhi. Actually turiya is background state and samadhi is process of achieving it. When with repeated practice of samadhi the background awareness starts remaining always then this is turiya.

When Turiya Is Seen

Once Turiya is truly seen, something irreversible happens. It is not a passing state but the ever-present background consciousness of every state—waking, dream, or deep sleep. The first recognition feels like an experience, yet soon it’s clear it was never gained or lost—only revealed.

Even when worldly activity resumes, a quiet background of awareness remains beneath all movement. At first it flickers—noticed at times, forgotten at others—but it never disappears completely, because the illusion of separateness has been pierced.

Then the role of meditation changes. Before this recognition, meditation is a practice, an effort to reach stillness. Afterward, meditation becomes resting in what already is. Earlier, one did dhyana; now dhyana happens. Effort stops; awareness pervades everything—thoughts, actions, and breath.

This is why saints describe Sahaja Samadhi—the spontaneous abiding in Turiya during all activities. Meditation doesn’t end; it becomes continuous. Some still sit each day, not to attain, but because the body finds harmony in that posture and prana refines itself further. It’s simply joy—like a musician who still plays, not to learn but because sound itself is blissful.

The essence is this:
Meditation ends as effort, not as awareness.
Turiya is not practiced; it is noticed.
The only “practice” afterward is non-forgetfulness—remembering that all movements of life rise and fall within the same unmoving awareness.

When Turiya is clearly recognized, peace no longer depends on meditation. One may sit in silence simply because it is natural. Awareness rests in its own delight, unaffected by whether the breath is still or moving.

The Understanding Now

Looking back, I can see the full sequence in my own journey:

  • The worldly ambition disturbed the balance of prana.
  • Sitting again, the high-speed breathing purified that outward rush.
  • Fatigue drew the ego into surrender.
  • Sleepiness appeared, but staying aware within it opened the gate to stillness.
  • The breath stopped, revealing a silence beyond effort.
  • From that silence, the recognition dawned—this unmoving awareness was there before, during, and after every experience. Although it remains a fleeting and unstable experience, that is why the effort to achieve it continues.

And that awareness, once seen, never completely leaves.

Chapter 18: The Polarity of Creation – How Quantum Charge Weaves the Web of Attraction and Repulsion

If spin is like the dance step of particles and momentum is their direction of travel, then charge is their invisible magnet, deciding who hugs, who runs away, and who stands apart.

It is one of the most magical qualities of quantum particles because it sets the stage for the push and pull of the universe. Without charge, everything would simply sit in one bland soup. With charge, sparks fly, patterns form, and structures are born.

Charge: The Invisible Tug-of-War

Every fundamental particle comes with its charge already written into its identity.

  • Electrons always carry a negative charge.
  • Protons always carry a positive charge.
  • Neutrons carry no charge and act as mediators.

This is not something they decide later, nor is it chosen during wave collapse. It is an inborn property, as fixed as your fingerprint. The moment a particle comes into existence, its charge is already determined.

And this little detail is what decides the destiny of matter.

  • Negative electrons are forever pulled toward positive protons.
  • Protons seek electrons to balance themselves.
  • Neutrons stand in between, stabilizing the fragile harmony of the atomic world.

These rules are simple, yet when repeated trillions upon trillions of times, they give rise to chemistry, biology, and even thought. Your heartbeat, for example, is nothing but a grand orchestra of ions—charged particles—rushing in and out of cells in rhythmic waves.

Attraction Builds, Repulsion Shapes

Creation is not only about joining things together—it is also about keeping them apart in balance.

Think about the architecture of a house: bricks hold together by mortar, but spaces are left open for doors and windows. Without gaps, there would be no air, no light, no movement. Similarly, in the cosmic design, attraction builds molecules and stars, while repulsion prevents them from collapsing into a meaningless lump.

When electrons (negative) dance around nuclei (positive), they do not crash into each other. Instead, their mutual repulsion and attraction create a delicate balance of orbits. This balance later gave birth to the periodic table of elements, the grammar of all matter.

With just this push and pull, the universe writes its story.

The Cosmic Magnetism of Design

Picture the first moments after the Big Bang. Particles were buzzing like tiny fireflies in a stormy night sky. They did not need to “decide” their charge—it was already built-in.

Electrons carried negativity, protons carried positivity, neutrons stayed neutral. And out of this fixed polarity, a grand web of relationships emerged:

  • Electrons found protons → atoms were born.
  • Atoms joined → molecules appeared.
  • Molecules combined → chemistry awakened.
  • Chemistry blossomed → biology emerged.
  • Out of biology came thought, culture, poetry, and the very question: “How did all this begin?”

All this because polarity was written into the very fabric of particles.

Creation as a Game of Loves and Distances

If spin is the rhythm and momentum is the direction, then charge is the love and dislike of the universe.

It decides not only who pairs with whom but also who must keep their distance. Without it, everything would collapse into a single, undifferentiated lump of energy. With it, the universe blossoms into complexity.

Think of magnets scattered on a table. Some snap together with a click, some stubbornly refuse to touch, and some lie unaffected. Watch long enough, and they arrange into little clusters and chains.

Now stretch this imagination to the cosmic stage—the same principle plays out at unimaginable scales.

The Subtle Spiritual Mirror

In Indian Darshana, charge and polarity echo in the eternal dance of Shiva and Shakti, Purusha and Prakriti, masculine and feminine.

It is the cosmic principle that says: without the pull of opposites, nothing stirs. And without the balance of repulsion, nothing lasts.

The universe itself is woven from this dance of duality—union and separation, attraction and balance.

Quantum Collapse – The Director, Not the Creator of Charge

If charge is inborn, what then is the role of quantum collapse?

Collapse does not assign charge—it simply decides where and how a charged particle shows up in space-time. The electron is always negative, but collapse decides whether it appears here or there, inside this atom or that one.

In this way, collapse is like the director of the play, while charge is the personality of the actors. The script is written, but collapse chooses which stage to light up at each moment.

Without collapse, all charges would remain as shadows of probability. With collapse, they take concrete form, shaping stars, rivers, flowers, and even the thoughts dancing in your mind as you read this line.

To clarify further, every object in nature carries a silent signature called charge. Unlike spin or position, which may remain hidden in superposition until observed, charge is not undecided—a particle is born positive, negative, or neutral. Yet the way these charges interact—the attraction, repulsion, or balance—first exists as a cloud of superposed possibilities, collapsing into one outcome only when interaction takes place. This superposed possibility does not concern the form of the charge, but rather its location — whether it will be near an opposite charge for attraction or near a like charge for repulsion. Human thought offers a parallel: our likes and dislikes are embedded in our nature, but how we finally respond—whether with connection, avoidance, or neutrality—remains suspended in the field of thought until a decision collapses it into action. The form of liking, like quantum charge, will not change — only the way it is placed or handled, whether positively or negatively. Moreover, Man can keep away from an attractive thing, and similarly a quantum particle can collapse to a position away from an opposite charge. Therefore, even in the presence of opposite charges, attraction may not occur—showing that collapse provides the final decision. In this way, Sharirvigyan Darshan mirrors quantum reality: polarity is the inner law, collapse the outer choice of interaction. At the quantum level, a positive charge naturally seeks a negative, while negatives repel each other, not as personal decisions but as eternal laws of nature. Yet the exact form of their meeting—the orbit, the bond, the release of energy—remains in superposition until collapse selects one reality. This dual dance of polarity and collapse builds the architecture of existence, just as the human mind holds both affection and aversion but must choose one at each moment, giving rise to the ongoing play of life and cosmos.

Thus, polarity is not just a scientific detail—it is the very heartbeat of diversity. Every attraction and every repulsion, from the bonding of hydrogen and oxygen into water to the neurons firing in love or anger, owes its existence to this fixed, inborn quality of charge.

From Quantum Charges to Conscious Waves

Just as quantum charges weave a web of attraction and repulsion at the microscopic level, human consciousness and social interactions operate according to remarkably similar principles. The subtle energies within us — our pranic waves, the oscillations of thought, and the flow of awareness — mirror the quantum fields. In this section, we extend the analogy from physical charges to the waves of consciousness that guide greetings, choices, and interactions, showing how coherence, decoherence, and probability manifest in everyday life.

Coherence and Decoherence in Social Interaction

Consider Smith entering a group where he is welcomed with warmth and sympathy. Surrounded by acceptance, he feels no need to select a specific form of greeting. Instead, he smiles or nods, embracing everyone in his heart through that simple gesture. In this state, Smith exists in a superposition of greetings: his smile carries within it the essence of all possible salutations without collapsing into any one of them. However good greeting words are socially more accepted than countless mental options. The best way is to use an appropriate greeting outwardly, while inwardly holding countless positive greetings in superposition within the mind — along with a gentle smile.

When Smith enters a group that feels attuned to him, it is like a particle in the double-slit experiment left unobserved: his inner wave holds many greeting possibilities in superposition, resonating with itself, and the outcome can spread into a rich interference of options. A high amplitude of Namaste can be overlapped by a low amplitude of Good afternoon, creating a combined amplitude higher than either of them individually. If the group carries only a mild expectation, it resembles a particle observed at one slit: the superposition collapses into a single path, yet the wave nature remains, producing a broad diffraction pattern—Smith still has time and space to choose among several fitting greetings. But if the group immediately sees him as a stranger or outsider, the collapse happens at once, like a quantum particle generated and spotted instantly and strongly without traveling as a wave of possibility; no spread or exploration is allowed, and he is forced into a hurried, often unfit greeting. In the same way, society shapes human potential: where love, harmony, and sympathy prevail, people remain coherent, with freedom to explore widely like a full wave of possibilities; where only mild expectations exist, their freedom is narrowed but not lost; and where rejection or alienation dominates, their options collapse before they even begin, leaving them confined to hurried and limited choices. Where Smith’s inner wavefront aligns with the collective energy of the group, that is a state of coherenc. His expression is unbounded, free, and fully resonant with the surrounding field. However, as soon as the group begins to expect a definite word, gesture, or confirmation, this anticipation acts like a measurement in quantum physics. Just as a particle’s superposition collapses upon observation, Smith’s openness is now constrained into a particular outcome. He must choose one greeting — “Namaste,” “Good Afternoon,” or another.

While being in coherence with the group members, the amplitude of the energy wave is reinforced constructively, and the prana rises in the spine as high as possible, resulting in a greater probability of selecting an advanced form of greeting. Even a single greeting-character contains different sub-characters, each with its own independent probability distribution along the spinal wave. For example, expressions like “Namo Namah” or “Shat Shat Naman” have higher probability in the upper-chakra zone, while “Good Afternoon” is more likely in the mid-chakra zone, and simple expressions like “Hello” or “Hi” are more probable in the lower-chakra zone. Thus, when the energy wave peaks in the upper chakras, refined and reverential greetings such as “Namo Namah” naturally arise. When the amplitude centers around the mid-chakras, formal greetings like “Good Afternoon” are more probable. And when the amplitude peaks only in the lower chakras, casual greetings such as “Hello” or “Hi” appear, often without much enthusiasm. Actually, these expressions are simply placement-based names given to the single greeting-character. When the greeting arises in the Sahasrāra zone, it is expressed as “Namo Namah.” When it arises in the mid-chakra zone, it takes the form of “Good Afternoon,” while in the lower-chakra zone it appears as “Hello” or “Hi.” The greeting is only an example to illustrate the parallel between quantum probability and mental probability.

In quantum mechanics, energy and probability are distinct: a particle’s energy is tied to the wavelength or frequency of its wave, while probability is tied to the amplitude of its wavefunction. Yet in the pranic analogy, these two aspects converge into one. As the pranic wave swings with greater amplitude through the chakras, it not only carries more energy but also increases the probability of higher expressions manifesting. In lived experience, this is why when prāṇa surges upward, one feels both heightened vitality and a stronger tendency to express elevated greetings or actions — such as Namo Namah instead of a casual Hi. Thus, while physics separates energy and probability, in the pranic field amplitude embodies both at once, blending intensity and likelihood into a single force of expression.

When meeting a best friend in a truly heartfelt way, no words are needed — only joy, a smile, and simple, casual talk flow naturally. There’s no need for formal or honouring words like aap; instead, spontaneous words like tu arise effortlessly. It feels as if all positive emotions rush together toward the friend, and trying to confine them into a specific, polished gesture or phrase feels limiting — it breaks the charm. In the same way, showing particular formal greetings or forced emotions toward close family members feels unnecessary and even a bit artificial. Some children are especially sensitive to this — they sense the disturbance when love is expressed in rigid, social ways. They respond best to an atmosphere of natural love, care, and harmony, without expectations of formal gestures. Yet, when among outsiders, they naturally follow social norms as needed.

This pattern mirrors quantum mechanics, where a particle’s wavefunction spreads its probability across multiple energy states. Just as higher-energy states carry greater amplitude and thus greater likelihood of expression when the system is energized, the upper chakras resonate with more refined greetings when pranic energy rises to their level. Mid-level amplitudes correspond to more ordinary states of expression, while lower amplitudes give rise to simple, minimal outcomes. In both cases—whether quantum states or human greetings—the probability of expression depends on where the wave peaks, with energy amplitude guiding the most likely manifestation. However, frequency or energy of pranic wave can be higher or lower at any amplitude or chakra height. On its peak being at Swadhishthan Chakra, it can be rapidly or slowly oscillating between Muladhar and Swadhishthan. If rapidly oscillating, energy will be higher, and the expression on Swadhishthan will be highly probable with stronger intensity; but if slowly oscillating, probability will be still higher, though intensity of expression will be low.

Through its cascade of interactions, the quantum essence unfolds into multiplicity, shaping particles, matter, life, and ultimately the networks of human society. In every system, from the tiniest particle to the human body and beyond, the same principle applies: potential exists in coherence, yet interaction brings specificity. In this light, consider Smith in a group—when the environment is open and accepting, his gestures reflect the full spectrum of possibility. Suppose in that moment, Smith enters decoherence. The infinite field of possibilities reduces to a single, observable expression shaped by the environment. Human interactions mirror the dance of quantum particles: when harmony and resonance prevail, we live in the openness of superposition, embodying many possibilities at once; when external expectations arise, our potential collapses into defined roles and responses. Just as the quantum essence organizes particles into order, so too do our lives unfold between coherence and collapse, freedom and necessity—a ceaseless play of unity expressing itself in multiplicity.

Quantum Darshan in Everyday Greetings

As we were exploring the psychology of greetings through the lens of quantum principles, we see that even simple salutations unfold from a field of infinite possibilities. When we say “Good Afternoon,” “Namaste,” “Ram Ram Ji,” or “Radhe Radhe, hello, hi or simply welcoming smile with gesture” it may appear as if we consciously choose the words. In reality, beneath the surface exists a spectrum of potential greetings, each carrying its own likelihood, of course zero or minimal likelihood for unwelcoming or unsocial words, much like a quantum particle in superposition. These possibilities resonate along the inner spectrum of energy, from heart to head, awaiting expression.

Some expressions naturally rise to the forefront. A heartfelt “Shat Shat Naman” flows effortlessly, while “Koti Koti Naman” may appear slightly less frequently. Other greetings emerge occasionally, and offensive expressions remain absent, their probability effectively zero. this is because they often lies on darkness of muladhara that has zero wave amplitude thus having zero probability.

This unfolding is not guided by deliberate choice. Just as a quantum particle collapses into a definite state upon interacting with its environment, the social and energetic field around us channels the greeting into a single expression. What we call “I” choosing is, in truth, the dance of possibilities responding to context. Even in these small gestures, we participate in the universal play — a microcosm of the same coherence and decoherence that flows from the primordial quantum essence to the vast networks of life, matter, and consciousness.

The ego, or the sense of “I,” is ultimately an illusion; humans do not truly act as independent agents. Just as a quantum particle has no self and collapses into a specific outcome according to the influence of external interactions, human actions and responses arise according to external stimuli, internal conditioning, and momentary context. The feeling of “I am doing this” is therefore false and constructed, not the ultimate truth. Yet the experience of ego naturally arises, and sensing it is not wrong. It can be used temporarily as a practical tool to navigate worldly life — for decision-making, responsibility, and action — but it should never be mistaken for the final reality. Awareness of this allows one to live effectively in the world while recognizing that the ego is provisional and not the true self. It also doesn’t mean abstaining from work. Ego cannot be neutralised in the absence of action. There is no benefit in suppressing the ego through inaction; the real benefit lies in neutralising the ego that arises during action. Moreover, One might misunderstand it as acting foolishly — no, no, a big no. It simply means acting with perfect norms, yet without ego.

In reality, all other living characters, expressions, and human interactions follow the same thumb rule — their form of expression depends on the energetic placement within the human system, just as quantum outcomes depend on the probability distribution of the wavefunction.

Character Waves and Chakra Energy

As we touched this earlier, human behavior can be understood as character wave, the oscillations of pranic energy across the body’s chakras. We cannot even call it a character wave, but simply a wave, because all characters lie upon this single pranic wave, just as all the qualities of a quantum particle remain on a single quantum wave without disturbing one another. When prana swings from Mulādhāra (root) to Sahasrāra (crown), the amplitude is maximal. Such full-body waves generate peak joy and awareness, making corresponding actions highly probable.

Consider a greeting again. If Smith’s inner prana tends to rise fully to Sahasrāra while contemplating or simply thinking of expressing “Namaste or even better form like namaskar,” causing awareness and joy to touch peak, then this greeting is most likely to be expressed. If he is in a low-energy or depressed state, the pranic oscillation may reach only the navel chakra, then he will be bypassing higher-amplitude options and favoring a lower-energy greeting, like “Good Afternoon.” This means that in this case while thinking about ‘Namaste’ and other greeting options, he may inwardly dismiss them and instead choose the lower-energy option of saying ‘Good Afternoon.’

In this framework, the wavefront of character is the pranic oscillation, and options that generate maximal swings, joy, or resonance and even more stability and balance are naturally favored. This phenomenon can be explained in terms of resonance or constructive interference. Every greeting word carries its own vibrational signature or frequency. When a person chooses a greeting word that aligns with the current vibrational frequency of their chakra, the two waves — the individual’s chakra frequency and the word’s vibrational frequency — resonate. This resonance creates constructive interference, which amplifies the combined vibration and elevates the awareness at that chakra to a higher state. If the oscillation reaches up to Sahasrāra as top possible amplitude of the character-wave, then outward expression from Sahasrāra is the most probable. This effect is best achieved when the chosen greeting word’s vibrational frequency aligns with the frequency of the Sahasrara Chakra. In such a case, the resonance between the two produces a highly coherent and powerful wavefront. The resulting constructive interference amplifies the energy to a level comparable to, or harmonized with, the Sahasrara’s own subtle vibration — leading to an experience of heightened awareness and unity. Expressions from lower chakras can also arise; this is the play of probability, much like quantum probability. A person most often selects expressions that resonate with his highest active energy level, as these reflect his inner worth to the world. Words carrying such high-frequency vibrations include “Namaste,” “Namaskar,” “Namo Namah,” and “Shat Shat Naman.” At times, however, one may overlook the higher energy and express from a lower chakra, feeling slightly out of tune—as if something within is being concealed from society. Lower-amplitude expressions occur less frequently and depend on mood, context, and coherence with surrounding energy fields. In a low mood or while interacting with people of lesser or decohered energy, one may naturally adopt a low-energy expression; yet the probability of this remains low, since such choices demand conscious effort. By contrast, expressions that harmonize with one’s prevailing energy level arise spontaneously and effortlessly. Thus, the amplitude of pranic energy mirrors quantum probability—the greater the amplitude, the higher the likelihood of an action or expression manifesting.

In quantum mechanics too, when a particle ends up in a low-probability state, the reason is usually linked to its interaction with other particles or the environment. Strong, resonant interactions tend to channel the particle into its most probable states, much like a person naturally expressing from his highest energy level. However, external disturbances, weak couplings, or unfamiliar contexts can nudge the particle into less likely outcomes. This is similar to how a person, when in a bad mood or among unsympathetic people, may deliberately adopt a lower-amplitude expression. In both cases, the system does not act in isolation—the surrounding conditions shape whether the natural, high-amplitude expression unfolds or whether a rarer, lower-probability path is taken.

If someone’s energy is rising from Mūlādhāra to Sahasrāra and he accompanies a person whose energy is falling from Sahasrāra to Mūlādhāra, it is like the crest of a wave meeting the trough, where energies neutralize or cancel each other and grounding occurs, making the probability of life expressions almost zero so that he becomes neither this way nor that but neutral. When two rising energies meet, resonance happens and both rise further, which is the effect of good company, while two falling energies meeting create an even deeper trough than normal. Actually, it is like a basic line further sinking deep, not amplitude growing in the trough, as happens in tantric union. Unlike quantum mechanics, where crest and trough amplitudes are symmetrical and there is no positive or negative amplitude, in the human body the base chakra can be seen as the zero line, for there the probability of lively expressions is zero, a state of ignorance-filled darkness with no minus amplitude below it. In Tantric union, however, the partner completes the wave below the baseline, making the wave full, so that both amplitude peaks enhance each other and the energetic expression of characters is doubled.

If we take the Mulādhāra as the baseline of the wave, then the male spine rising toward Sahasrāra can be seen as the crest of positive amplitude. His tantric consort, by contrast, embodies the complementary trough of negative amplitude, extending her energy below the baseline and reaching her own Sahasrāra as the opposite crest. When united, the two together complete the full span of the wave, doubling the amplitude of living expression. This mirrors the tantric truth that Śiva and Śakti are not separate but two poles of the same oscillation, their union giving rise to the fullness of life and consciousness. A clear quantum counterpart exists here: just as a wave requires both crest and trough to exist, and just as two wavefunctions can merge in superposition or entanglement to form a richer and more powerful reality, so too does the union of the tantric pair generate constructive resonance. In this way, pranic union mirrors quantum interference, where two halves converge into a single, luminous wholeness.

Dhyana, Shabd Brahm, and Quantum Consciousness

Meditation on Shabd Brahm, the primordial sound, manifests the same quantum-like principles. Sound, as an atomic or quantum essence, awakens awareness and reveals the nondual Brahman. When the mind engages with Shabd Brahm, the sound reveals our complete identity, expressing the nonduality between the self and quantum particles — for sound itself is the movement of those particles, reflecting the unity of consciousness and matter.

Just as a quantum particle exists in pure potential until observed, the essence of a human being is also a wave of possibility. The pranic energy oscillating from Mūlādhāra to Sahasrāra mirrors the amplitude of a quantum particle’s wave. When the full wave spans all chakras and oscillating at maximum speed, it represents maximal probability distribution of living potential, energy and awareness, while different points along the oscillation correspond to specific chakras. Outer forms, identities, and ego are only transient coverings — beneath them lies a common wave-like essence, reminding us that separation is superficial. In this sense, a quantum particle is, in essence, the entire human body expressed in its most fundamental form.

Law, Karma, and Human Responsibility

Some argue that inhumanity is excusable because circumstances compel action. But it is not true. While natural phenomena — floods, storms, quantum particles — are fully egoless and unbound by karma-phala, so their apparent inhuman karmas are excusable, humans remain subject to moral consequences. Actions within humanity can be understood in context, as both humans and quantum particles are egoless by nature and compelled by circumstances to perform karmas and thoughts — yet inhumanity breaks this natural harmony and slows spiritual progress. This is because a human can never become fully egoless while working; it is a fixed rule. Nature operates with impersonal law, but humans carry karma and responsibility, ensuring that choices aligned with dharma are bound by ethical consequence.

Pranic Wave Collapse and Experiential Settlement

As we were discussing, the settlement of experience depends not only on the amplitude of the pranic wave but also on the type and strength of interaction. Just as a quantum wavefunction appears to collapse through interaction with a measuring device or its environment, pranic waves converge into an experiential center according to the context of life. Other interactions also influence this convergence, and the manner of collapse or decoherence varies depending on the nature and strength of these interactions. While the peak amplitude of energy may reach Sahasrāra, an emotional impact—such as fear, attachment, or joy—can cause the wave to collapse most often at Anāhata (heart), because the nature of the interaction biases the collapse toward that chakra. However, if Sahasrāra is active, the experience is not confined to Anāhata alone; it can be simultaneously felt at both Sahasrāra and Anāhata, reflecting the full span of the wave. In other words, the peak of pranic energy at Sahasrāra amplifies awareness of the emotion, while the heart provides its experiential “seat.” Similarly, in quantum mechanics, a particle may have maximal amplitude in one state, yet upon measurement it can collapse into another state if the measurement operator couples preferentially to it, while residual amplitudes in other states can continue to influence the system what comes next. The peak amplitude indicates maximal potential, but the locus of settlement is determined by the type and strength of coupling with the environment. In both realms, randomness arises naturally from the complexity and coupling of the system: minor deviations and less probable outcomes remain possible, while the peak of probability guides the most likely expression. Thus, human experience, like quantum behavior, unfolds in a structured yet non-deterministic manner, where potential, interaction, and overlapping amplitudes together shape the final expression.

  • Divine or transcendental interactions: Collapse at Sahasrāra, manifesting as peak illumination.
  • Fear or survival situations: Collapse at Anāhata, generating heart-centered fight-or-flight responses.
  • Oral or expressive interactions: Collapse at Viśuddhi, producing speech.
  • Intellectual interactions: Collapse at Ājñā, revealing thought and insight.
  • Digestive or sustenance-related interactions: Collapse at Maṇipūra.
  • Sexual interactions: Collapse at Svādhiṣṭhāna.
  • Inertia or ignorance: Collapse at Mulādhāra, the unconscious base.

Even as collapse occurs at lower centers, Sahasrāra remains the site of highest probability if energy-wave amplitude is peaking at it, just as quantum mechanics allows multiple outcomes but favors certain states under strong coupling. The chakra system is a living probability distribution, with the crown chakra as its luminous attractor.

The wave analogy is complete:

  • In quantum mechanics, the particle’s wavefunction oscillates, forming crests and troughs, with every point contributing to probability.
  • In yoga, the pranic wave spans the chakras; the highest expressions are visible, yet the lower chakras silently support every experience.
  • The crown chakra reveals consciousness’s brilliance, while Mulādhāra provides foundational support — unseen, but indispensable.

Unified Field of Potential

Human consciousness, social interactions, and the quantum realm share a common principle: a unified field of potential that unfolds through probability. Coherence allows freedom and superposition; decoherence collapses possibilities into expression. Pranic waves, chakra energy, and quantum wavefunctions are parallel manifestations of this field.

In every greeting, thought, or action, the universe orchestrates its spontaneous play. Understanding this principle allows us to navigate life with clarity, awareness, and resonance, harmonizing our inner waves with the cosmic field. This same underlying intelligence is reflected in the natural world, where every form and pattern reveals a subtle orchestration beyond mere chance.

Nature looks beautiful because there seems to be hidden intelligence in it. If we observe every aspect deeply, a grand intelligent design emerges: why is the mountain on this side, why this height, why this type of soil, why does the water channel flow this way? Does this not prove that nature, guided by quantum particles, works tirelessly in the growth of humanity, remaining engaged in the interactive world and learning from challenges just like a moral human being?

The Quantum Essence and the Probabilistic Dance of Life

The dual forces of attraction and repulsion govern the very fabric of the universe, orchestrating the dance of matter and energy. From the alignment of atoms in a crystal to the balance of social interactions, polarity creates order while allowing diversity to emerge. Within this field of polarity, a single primordial quantum essence holds the potential for everything that unfolds in creation. In the earliest moments of the universe, this unified field—the undivided source—underwent a cascade of transformations, giving rise to the multitude of quantum fields we now recognize: electrons, photons, quarks, and more. Each field is an expression of that original essence, just as every particle is a ripple or excitation within it. Through countless interactions and recombinations, these fields produced the fundamental particles that eventually built the complex structures of matter, life, and consciousness.

In the physical, inanimate world, quantum interactions exist everywhere, but they are relatively sparse and simple. Particles follow probabilistic laws, yet the complexity of their interactions remains limited by physical constraints. It is in the biological world that quantum principles expand to remarkable complexity. Life harnesses these interactions, amplifying them through networks of molecules, cells, and organs, producing behaviors and structures that mirror the subtle dynamics of human social interactions. The probabilistic flexibility of quantum processes, when embedded in living systems, reaches its peak—coordinating cooperation, communication, learning, and adaptation in ways that reflect the rich interplay of society itself.

In this sense, the organization of the human body mirrors human social structures as described in the modern Sharirvigyan darshan. Cells specialize like individuals, organs cooperate like communities, and the entire organism functions as a harmonious society. Just as the quantum essence gives rise to particles that interact and form networks under the polarity of forces, so does nature orchestrate the emergence of life and social systems. The human body, like the universe, is a living network of interactions, bound by underlying rules yet expressing flexible outcomes.

Even when a quantum particle appears still—bound in a rock or floating in vacuum—it is not inert. Its stability is rooted in the fixed laws of physics, yet its behavior remains probabilistic, shifting with interactions, environment, and circumstances. Rigidity at the law level coexists with adaptive, responsive behavior at the level of manifestation. In this way, the particle is dynamically poised, ready to respond to the world, much like a yogi in nirvikalpa samādhi: outwardly still and absorbed, yet fully capable of action when the conditions arise.

Scriptural stories, such as Brahmā producing the Prajāpatis who then filled the world with progeny, can be seen as allegories of this very process. The single quantum essence, like Brahmā, unfolds into multiplicity, cascading into ever-diverse forms, yet remaining rooted in the undivided source. In every interaction, from the smallest particle to the largest organism, the intelligence of this quantum essence guides organization, growth, and learning—revealing the hidden design and harmony of nature.

Humans, too, operate under fixed laws or disciplines: to act within the boundaries of humanity, to work as if worshipping, to learn from mistakes, and to cooperate with society. Yet within these boundaries, human actions are probabilistic and flexible, shaped by circumstances, environment, and internal disposition. While the framework is fixed, the specific choices cannot be predetermined, much like a quantum particle governed by immutable laws but expressing outcomes probabilistically.

As we discussed earlier, nature appears beautiful because there seems to be a hidden intelligence within it. When we observe every aspect deeply—the position of a mountain, its height, the type of soil, or the course of a river—a grand intelligent design emerges. Does this not suggest that nature, guided by quantum particles, works tirelessly for the growth of humanity, remaining engaged in the interactive world and learning from its challenges? Even in stillness, it is poised, dynamic, and full of potential, reminding us that creation itself is a living, learning, and evolving quantum play.

Thus, the polarity of attraction and repulsion, combined with the probabilistic flexibility of the quantum essence, underlies not only the physical universe but the moral, social, and conscious worlds as well. Every action, every interaction, every oscillation of energy is guided by these intertwined principles—fixed in law, yet fluid in expression—a cosmic dance of order and freedom.

My Inner Dussehra

✨🙏 Happy Dussehra 🙏✨
May this day remind us that just as Lord Rama conquered Ravana, we too can conquer the Ravanas within—ego, doubt, and restlessness—and let them merge into the light of awareness. Wishing you and your family joy, strength, and the victory of truth over all that holds us back. 🌸🔥🌿

Today, on Dussehra, I woke up early around 4 am and sat for dhyāna. The breath was fast, the mind restless, but I chose not to interfere. I just allowed it to flow and kept watching like a witness. After some time, when the sitting felt uneventful, I stood up for water and herbal tea. Once refreshed, I sat again but still no stability came. Then I turned to cleansing practices—jal neti and gajkarni. The water that had slipped into the throat, I drew back up through the nose to clear it. A few sneezes followed, and then with kapalbhati and anulom vilom I dried the remaining water passages. Gentle neck tilts and shoulder rotations released the stiffness.

After this preparation, I again sat for meditation. This time, the mind settled quickly. Breathlessness deepened and I found myself resting in pure awareness, like Narayana in the vast ocean of ekarnava. For half an hour, there was a depth filled with bliss. Later, when family called me to get ready for a visit to the city, I moved from that deepness back into a witnessing state. Breath became minimal, almost absent, while thoughts arose and merged one by one into pure awareness—just like Ravana’s heads burning and dissolving into Rama’s light.

It felt as if my Dussehra had been celebrated inwardly before the outer festival. The inner Ravana—restless thoughts and subtle ego—was burned and offered into the inner Rama—pure awareness and bliss. Standing up, I felt fresh and ready for worldly duties, yet carried within the fragrance of this inner victory.

Festivals hold meanings much deeper than rituals and celebrations. When seen inwardly, they become reminders of our own inner journey, of the battles we fight silently, and of the joy of transformation that blesses not only us but also those around us.

Healing Through Dhyana: My Journey of Heart and Throat Chakra

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

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

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

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

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

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

The general mechanism appears as follows:

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

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

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

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

Chapter 15 – The Energy of Creation

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

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

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

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

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

The Cosmic Blueprint in Energy Choices

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Drama of Quantum Jumps

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

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

Energy Levels and the Symphony of Life

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

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

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

Chakras as Quantum Energy Levels of Consciousness

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

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

A Universe Sculpted by Choices

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

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

Quantum Collapse – The Engine of Creation

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This phenomenon is interpreted differently in various traditions:

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

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

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

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

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

In essence:

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

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