u/SilentInquiry26

The recent incident from a corporate daycare in Bengaluru is heartbreaking.

Children as young as 2 to 5 years old were reportedly locked inside washing machines, shut inside bathrooms, and even had water sprayed into their mouths to stop them from crying.

It made me think about how I used to respond when my own child cried, and how much that changed after I started listening to Acharya Ji. Instead of reacting to my child's crying, I started observing myself.

One thing I learned is that young children don't yet understand all their feelings, and they don't have the words to explain them. Crying is often the easiest way they know to ask for help.

There are two ways to deal with children. One is to simply react. The child cries, we get irritated, and we try to stop the crying. That comes naturally and needs no self-reflection.

The other way is to ask, "What is it within me that is getting disturbed by this crying?" and "What is this child trying to tell me?" That takes honesty. It means looking at ourselves.

Acharya Ji calls this having a mirror to see ourselves. Without that mirror, we act only from our habits and instincts. With it, our response becomes more thoughtful and more humane.

To me, the Bengaluru incident is not just a failure of childcare. It is a failure to understand ourselves. Those workers had power over helpless children. The crying child stopped being a child in their eyes and became a problem that had to be silenced. That is what the ordinary ego does. It does not see another human being. It only sees its own discomfort and wants to get rid of it.

Violence does not always begin with hatred. It usually begins with our inability to understand our own irritation, frustration, or discomfort.

Acharya Ji's teachings have helped me become not just a more patient parent, but a more aware human being. The key is to hold the mirror and look at ourselves honestly.

Real childcare begins not by controlling children, but by understanding ourselves first.

In a recent video, a reporter was chasing a top official from a social media company, trying to ask one uncomfortable question:

Why is the platform allowing ads related to child sexual abuse?

The executive avoided the question.

Companies absolutely deserve to be held accountable. No one should profit from something so harmful.

But rather an important question to ask:

Why is there a market for such content in the first place?

Every market exists because there is demand. If such content is being promoted, it is because there are consumers. So the real question is not just, "Why is the company doing this?" It is also, "What is there within us that wants to consume such things?"

Acharya Ji often says that unless we understand ourselves (the ego) and the emptiness that keeps making us seek fulfillment outside ourselves, this demand will continue, and someone will always be ready to supply it.

The same applies to the executive. He may be chasing profits, promotions, or shareholder value. But underneath it all is the same ego, always seeking more success, more recognition, and more power.

Yes, these platforms must be questioned. But if we stop there, we are only treating the symptoms.

Real change begins when we question ourselves. Change the consumer, and the market changes. As Acharya Ji often reminds us, the ego has to be understood. Unless we address that, we will keep fighting the symptoms while the root cause remains untouched.

"Behind each desire you will find only one desire: the desire to be free." – Acharya Prashant

Acharya Prashant cuts through the usual tech optimism and tech panic to ask something far more uncomfortable. He hands us a mirror and asks us to look closely. We have built machines that can think faster than us, navigate better than us, and even decide for us. Yet inside, we are still the same creatures who, only fifty thousand years ago, were eating leaves and chasing small animals with crude tools. That raw, impulsive mind now holds intercontinental missiles and artificial intelligence. We have outsourced our memory to search engines, our direction to GPS, and now our very thinking to algorithms. We have not become wiser or more grounded. We have simply become more powerful. And that power, without inner maturity, is turning against us. We see it in the climate collapsing, in species vanishing, in oceans poisoning. We see it in our own shrinking attention spans and our inability to sit still or think deeply. We are heirs to a fortune we never earned, surrounded by comforts that emperors once envied, yet inwardly we are shrinking. The external dazzle blinds us to the internal emptiness. And that is the great deception of our age.

So what is the way out? Acharya Prashant does not ask us to throw away our phones or reject progress. That would be foolish and impractical. What he asks is far harder. He asks us to grow up on the inside, to match our outer power with inner clarity. We must reclaim our capacity to choose, to discern, to pause. That ability, which he calls Vivek, cannot be downloaded or outsourced. No machine can love for us, understand for us, or live life on our behalf. If we stop exercising our own judgment, we become like stones, moved by whatever force pushes us next. Technology reflects who we are. If we are confused, biased, or restless, our machines will amplify that. If we are clear and conscious, technology becomes a loyal servant. The choice has always been ours. We can either hand over our freedom and become passive consumers of our own creations, or we can step up, do the inner work, and deserve the inheritance we have received. Without that elevation, we are no different from the stone. With it, technology becomes not our master, but our means of genuine liberation.

What do you think? Are we truly growing on the inside or just getting better at hiding our emptiness behind brighter screens? Have you ever caught yourself outsourcing a simple decision to an algorithm without even realising it? And most importantly, if inner growth cannot be automated, what are we actually doing every day to deserve the power we now hold in our hands? Drop your thoughts below. ⬇️⬇️

(Article originally published in The Sunday
Guardian on 2 Nov 2025.)

Our emotions and actions reveal what is really running us. Anger, anxiety, avoidance, or pride are not random. They point to something deeper within us.

The first step is to observe ourselves honestly, without bias. But that is not easy because the one doing the observing is often the same mind that is biased.

It quickly finds reasons and justifications, making us feel as if we have understood ourselves, while nothing actually changes.

Real self-understanding begins when we are willing to see something uncomfortable about ourselves without immediately trying to defend or explain it away. That willingness does not come automatically. It is a choice we have to make every time.

A father held his newborn daughter upside down by her legs, swinging her in the air because he was unhappy that she was born a girl. That may be one of the lowest points our species can reach. What disturbed me even more was that no one stopped him.

As Acharya Ji often says, the root of human suffering is our ignorance of ourselves. We do not understand the ego that drives us, and from that ignorance arise countless forms of violence.

Whether it's climate change, wars, crimes against women and children, the killing of billions of animals for food, or the destruction of our forests, rivers, and oceans, these may appear to be different problems, but they all spring from the same source: an unconscious human mind.

The thought that came to me while watching this was: Am I capable of this too?

Perhaps I would never swing a newborn child upside down. But am I capable of exploiting others for my comfort? Ignoring suffering because it benefits me? Remaining silent when I should speak?

If I do not understand myself, the answer is yes. The forms may differ, but the root is the same.

Human beings possess an extraordinary range of consciousness. At one end stand Kabir Sahib, Buddha, Guru Nanak, and others who embodied the highest awareness. At the other end lies unimaginable cruelty.

The distance between these extremes is not determined by intelligence, education, or wealth. It is determined by self-awareness.

We all have the potential to elevate our consciousness. The direction we move in depends on whether we choose to understand ourselves.

Until then, none of us should be too confident that we are incapable of evil.

What happens when wisdom becomes life?

Wisdom doesn't eliminate difficulties. It gives you the strength to choose the right path and the courage to face every challenge with a smile.

A fencing coach shared the journey of his student, Sachin, who, at just 17 years old, qualified for the 2026 Asian Games in Japan. At the recent Senior Asian Fencing Championships held at Bharat Mandapam in New Delhi from June 19-24, 2026, India's top fencers competed for a place in the 2026 Asian Games. Out of the 24 Indian athletes who participated, the Indian men's foil team qualified for the Asian Games, and Sachin was part of this historic achievement.

At just 17 years old, Sachin has established himself among India's top fencers in his category. Behind this success lay years of struggle, financial constraints, a lack of resources, and opposition from the very system that was meant to support them.

Yet neither the coach nor the student gave up.

The coach wrote that whenever a new obstacle arose, he would simply recall Acharyaji's words:

"अद्भुत ! आश्चर्य !" (Amazing! Surprising!)

And then, without complaint, he would return to his work.

This is the power of correct understanding. It doesn't just change the way we think. It also changes the way we live, the way we face difficulties, and what we are able to achieve.

"Fighting the right battle is victory in itself."

~ Acharya Prashant

"You are an ocean of love, we thirst even for a single drop of yours..."

Disha often wonders what she really wanted from life. Sometimes she felt that if she could get a good job, everything would be fine; sometimes she thought that if people praised her, she would be happy. But whatever she got, after some time her mind would again grow restless.

One day, while talking to Prakash, this old song was playing in the background: "Tu pyar ka sagar hai, teri ek boond ke pyaase hum..."

Smiling, Disha asked, "What is it about this song that people still remember it even today?"

Prakash said, "Because all of us are thirsty for something or the other. Some are running after money, some after relationships, some after fame and recognition. But when one desire is fulfilled, another one immediately stands up. And the thirst remains."

This sank into Disha’s mind. She began to look at her life honestly. She started to see that a lot of her running around had simply become a habit. She used to believe that the next achievement would completely satisfy her, but that never really happened.

Slowly, her life began to change. Instead of chasing after every desire, she started to look at what was actually necessary. She compared herself less with others, became less worried about appearances, and life began to feel a little simpler.

Maybe that is why this song still touches people’s hearts even today. It doesn’t just talk about a person’s love, it points towards that endless thirst which we keep trying to satisfy through external things.

Have you also ever felt that once one desire is fulfilled, the mind immediately starts running after a new one?

If you are Disha, then who are the Prakash figures in your life?

My understanding of yoga changed completely after listening to Acharya Prashant.

Like many people, I grew up believing that yoga was mainly a form of exercise. It was something that kept the body healthy, reduced stress, and helped bring balance to life.

But I was introduced to a very different perspective.

Imagine you're trying to get home. The road helps you reach your destination, but the road itself is not the destination. In the same way, yoga is a path, not an end in itself. The postures, breathing exercises, and meditation practices are important, but they are not the ultimate purpose of yoga.

What struck me was the idea that yoga is fundamentally about self-understanding. It is about looking at our conditioning, attachments, fears, desires, and the way we relate to ourselves and the world.

This also made me rethink how yoga is understood today. In many places, it is seen mainly as a fitness routine or wellness practice. There is nothing wrong with that, but I feel something deeper gets lost when yoga is reduced to only physical exercise.

Through Acharya Ji's teachings, I came to see yoga as deeply connected with Advaita Vedanta philosophy (non-dualistic philosophy) that asks fundamental questions: Who am I? Why do I suffer? What keeps me trapped in fear and dissatisfaction?

I'm still learning, but this perspective has completely changed the way I look at yoga.

What does yoga mean to you?

Do you see it primarily as a physical practice, or have you explored its philosophical dimension as well?

We often hear that children are God's gift. But recently an IVF case in India raised some uncomfortable questions.

Recently, there was an incident in India where a couple had twins through IVF treatment. After some time, they noticed that the children did not resemble them. A DNA test later revealed that the twins were not genetically related to the parents. It appears that embryos may have been accidentally exchanged at the IVF center, and an investigation is undergoing.

On the surface, it looks unfair to the parents. But the incident also makes us look at some deeper questions.

We often hear motherhood as unconditional love, but what exactly does that mean? If a woman carries a child in her womb, gives birth to the child, nurtures the child, and then finds out that the DNA does not match, why does the relationship suddenly fall apart?

Acharya Ji has often said that much of what we call parental love is deeply connected to biological attachment, hormones, and the sense of "mine." This incident seems to expose that attachment quite clearly. The children were loved as long as they were believed to be "their own." The moment that belief was shaken, everything changed.

If we look at the situation from the children's side, it becomes even more heartbreaking. The children did nothing wrong. They did not choose to be born. They are healthy and innocent, yet they may end up carrying the consequences of a mistake they never made. I think the real unfairness is not happening to the parents, but to the children.

By default, we see ourselves as bodies. our consciousness is usually centered around bodily identity and that's why we tend to look at ourselves and others through physical relationships, appearance, blood relations, and DNA.

But as human beings, we have the opportunity to rise above this limited identification and elevate our consciousness. This is what Acharya Ji continuously points towards: understanding who we really are.

The ego survives through divisions. It constantly creates distinctions between "mine" and "yours," "my child" and "someone else's child," "my family" and "other families." Maybe incidents like this reveal how deeply that conditioning is rooted within us.

What are your thoughts on this? How do you see this situation?

Most of the succulents in the pot are rescued or grown out of fallen leaves. Added jade and tradescantia for color and texture.

There are aphids on my rose plant along with another worm or larvae kind of thing. I removed the aphids using a wet tissue paper. Also discarded the infected leaves with the worms on it.

Could anyone help identify the worm and also how to avoid them in future.

When I read this quote, it really made me think. My understanding is simple: we want things to change on their own, but that is impossible unless we actually make an effort to change them.

If I'm being honest, I want to improve on a lot of things, but I don't always work toward them. It takes time and energy, and I'm just not investing it right now. Instead, I find myself always dreaming about doing great in those areas, like public speaking, without actually putting in the work.

But waiting for some "magical day" where everything suddenly clicks is just a trap. Real change doesn't happen all at once; it’s built quietly, bit by bit, every single day.

So, instead of just dreaming, I need to start doing. Even if it's just practicing for one minute alone in a quiet room, it's time to start making that daily progress.

Why Do We Love Dreaming?

There’s a psychological trap of cheap rewards happening behind the scenes.

When we fantasize about the perfect outcome (the applause, the success, the high fives), our brain actually releases a hit of dopamine.

The Dream gives us a cheap reward. Our brain gets a taste of the victory without having to do any actual work or risk failing. It’s an instant, effortless high.

The Reality is sitting down to do just one minute of actual, boring practice doesn't give us that rush. It usually feels awkward, quiet, and frustrating.

Because of this we naturally choose the fantasy and keep waiting for that "magical day" to start.