Kashi 3/3 - Dalmandi Road

I had taken an early morning walk southwards from the hostel towards Assi Ghat. I walked till the end of the road where the Ghats ended. To venture further south I would need to walk through the town, which I didn’t want to do. So I returned north to the other end of the city. I reached Manikarnika Ghat beyond the Kashi Vishwanath temple. However, I did not happen to cross the Namo Ghat that I had heard a lot about. Someone said that it was further up north beyond Manikarnika, but boats refused to go there and there was no more road beyond Manikarnika. So I decided to walk through the city.

I followed Google Maps which didn’t show a direct path to Namo Ghat. I would need to detour from deep into the town and come back towards the ghats. It was early and I was fresh. I decided to take the journey. The path would take me through a narrow alley named Dalmandi Road. Varanasi had a lot of alleys, so that wasn’t surprising. The surprises started once I entered the alley.

I walked into Dalmandi Road through the western side and the shift was immediate. The entrance was a bustling market even in the morning close to the entrance of the Kashi Vishwanath temple. There were queues of people waiting in line for the temple, early morning shoppers, breakfast places Varanasi is famous for, or people just loitering about on a vacation. But just around the corner inside Dalmandi Road was a completely different vibe.

The place was almost deserted. I saw perhaps 10 people during the kilometre-long walk. The buildings on each side of the road were ripped away from the ground. It didn’t feel like a city anymore. I imagined this would be what war-torn Palestine or Ukraine might look like. It was also very noticeable that this was predominantly a Muslim locality. The people I saw on the road had traditional Muslim attire and beards. There were broken water pipes which still had streams of water, making parts of the road muddy. It was disturbing that there could be such a view just next to that bustling market outside. It felt as if I had been transported to another planet through a portal, and I wasn’t sure if I could go back. If an accident were to fall upon me in this alley, there was no way anyone could know or I could be found. I felt away from my home planet. These buildings didn’t seem to be demolished in an organized manner. The trail of destruction were left behind. At one point I could see what must have been a dining room at some point, still intact but the exterior wall was missing. A lot of buildings seemed to just have been dropped, without any post-cleaning. As if some bombing had occurred in the street. But why would the bombing happen only on this street, and no other streets adjoining. I wanted to Google where I was and the history of this street. But faster than that I wanted to be out of the other end. This was obviously not safe. I didn’t want to run, lest any stray dogs come after me. I knew that it was important to appear tough when you’re shit scared.

On returning to the hostel I Googled and found that there was an active demolition drive at Dalmandi road. Some articles said that it was because the construction in that lane was unauthorized – an argument which lent little merit. Varanasi is an ancient city. Most of the construction in the city is unauthorized. The residences in narrow lanes predate any civic authority. Even the lanes do not always have names. The other argument was that it would enable a wide and fast corridor from the ghats to the Kashi Vishwanath temple. This was an infrastructure improvement initiative. There is a fierce debate of development vs. preservation that is intense enough at Varanasi, and we will not get into that in this article. I am sure the free and fair elections at Varanasi will give verdict to this debate. But it was interesting to note that only the Muslim locality was targeted for such infrastructure improvement, in a somewhat traumatic way.

Dalmani Road finds its mention in the throes of history. It is populated by silk-shops, brothels, and residences of Muslim shopowners whose shops were on the ground levels of such structures. It is said to be the place where the revolt of 1857 was planned. I would believe that, as the best place to plan a revolt would be a narrow Muslim Lane in a vastly Hindu religious city inside a brothel. There can be no better cover. That history is now rubble. I am sure there will be vast improvements to the Shiv temple in lieu of the destruction. I doubted if the God of destruction appreciated this violence in his name.

Kashi 2/3 - Ghat Walk

I stepped into Varanasi with songs in my heart – specifically “Tu Ban Ja Gali Banaras Ki” and “Tu Kisi Rail Si Guzarti Hai”. I had no agenda or plan on what to do on reaching. My best option was to wander around the Ghats and the lanes. Food was always available everywhere and if I couldn’t find a shop, there was always Swiggy. I walked along the Ghats to my heart’s content. I walked on every step I could find, and I walked every morning and every night.

I found a band who was performing at the Ghats and without a second thought I rushed up and joined them, singing old and new songs, discovering that there wasn’t really much difference among them. I found street food vendors whom I started to recognize and the distinct flavors they specialized in. I found a sketch-artist who made a portrait for me for Rs. 350 in 30 minutes, all while sitting at the Ghat. I walked into a garden from where I was driven away because it wasn’t “for tourists”. I later joked with a Swede couple that how even Banarasi loacs recognized me as a tourist, with no trace of white skin on me. I found a sage basking in the early morning sun surrounded by pigeons. I kept walking till the Ghats ended. Then I turned back and walked more.

There was this one instance with a guy. There’s a large painting of Shiv on one of the walls where Shiv extends his hand outwards. A guy was trying to take a picture with his own hand extended towards Shiv, as if holding his hand. He was trying to work the camera angle. It was one of those things that you pass by without paying much attention, as I would have to. I was walking thinking if Shiv is so different from Varanasi. I have often believed that a man’s home is an extension and expression of his self. If that were so, then Varanasi with all its chaos was undoubtedly the expression of Shiv. As I was passing by that man, I don’t know what came over me – magic or mischief – but I shook his hand and went along my way. I didn’t even break my step. But I will remember the look on that man’s face for the rest of my life, as I know he will remember me. He was trying to reach out to Shiv, and in the process, Varanasi reached out to him. I wondered of all the ways in which Varanasi was reaching out to me as well. Every great or small interaction I was having with the people, dogs, land, and sky of Varanasi was Shiv. Not only was this His home, this was Him.

In another incident there was a protected VIP Ghat. I crossed by it several times, nothing seemed to be happening there. Just 2 police officers sending people away who ventured too far into the Ghat. There was a small Vishnu temple there that I noticed and wanted to visit. I had never seen a Vishnu temple. It was on the edge of the river. As I proceeded towards it the guards signalled me away. I tried to negotiate that I just wanted to visit the temple without venturing into the protected place, but the guards wouldn’t budge. Ultimately I had to go climb back up the stairs. Interestingly, the stairway went right above the temple. I was walking over where the shrine must have been inside the temple. As someone who is brought up in Hindu traditions, it is unthinkable to step over a shrine with shoes intact. But I thought that’s what being in Shiv’s home is like. There is no superior or inferior, not even Gods. There’s chaos. And there’s Shiv. And that’s all that matters.

Kashi 1/3 - Arrival

I landed at Lal Bahadir Shastri International Airport, Varanasi, on a Thursday morning with a suitcase and backpack in a sleep deprived manner. I was not sure why I was there. It was mostly to get out of Calcutta for a while. I have nothing against Kolkata. I mean I do, but that’s not the point of this story. I was basically in need of a vacation. A change of scenery if you please.

Once the thought had hit my mind, it automatically transferred from brain to Instagram without waiting for my consent. For the next two weeks, I browsed through all kinds of trips from solo-group travels (a true gen-Z invention), IRCTC Bharat Gaurav tours (they aren’t that bad), Spiti Valley-like places (the usual), African Safaris (sure to get popular in the coming years), and even an Antarctic expedition! I didn’t like any of them. Each of them seemed to have a different constraint. Till I realized that the real constraint must lie with me. True, I was in a terrible mood. Terrible enough for me not to take any action to come out of it. This was all the more reason to go for a vacation. I decided that if I didn’t like anything in the next two days, I will travel to Varanasi.

Why Varanasi? Because it was logistically feasible, the bookings were convenient, and being a single Hindi-speaking man, I couldn’t go wrong in a touristy place in north-India. Besides, Shiv has a certain allure. Two days passed. I didn’t like anything else. I booked flights and a hostel in Varanasi for the weekend.

I wasn’t sure what I was looking for. Part of me wanted peace. Part of me wanted to talk to someone or many people. Part of me wanted to go somewhere new. Part of me wanted to go somewhere familiar. Varanasi somehow satisfied all those requirements.

As soon as I exited the airport I was huddled by cab-drivers whom I ignored on instinct. I was no stranger to north-Indian touristy places. And I’d done my research. There was supposed to be a bus stand close to the airport that where I could take a bus that would drop me right in the centre of the city. But I saw no buses or bus stands outside the small airport. On some searching I realized that the bus stand was a 1 km walk from the airport. Sleepy me wasn’t going to start my trip with a 1 km walk in the hot Sun. Later during the trip, Varanasi would make me walk a lot. But thankfully she didn’t make me start the trip with that. I ran into a cab-driver who was going on my way for his own work, and would drop me on the way. The fare was considerably less than the other drivers in the vicinity. So I went with him.

You cannot have a conversation with a Banarasi local and not touch upon local politics. I don’t know which of us started, but he gave me his perspective on the local political climate. Banarasi people love to talk. I didn’t have to prod him much for him to go on a full-scale monologue on why his party was good and the other one was not. I tried to play the devil’s advocate which in most cases, only leads people to argue their point more vehemently. But I was beginning to get a sense of the city. I also wondered that if this truly is Shiv’s city, then I should accept whatever I stumble across as Shiv’s blessing, even if it be a blabbering cab-driver.

I had booked a hostel in the deep alleys of Varanasi close to the ghats. It seemed like a vibrant place with a lot of community space. I quickly realized that they had somewhat oversold their community places by brushing them up for Instagram. I also realized that Varanasi was not going to socialize during hot summer days. I was going to spend a lot of time indoors during the days. I planned on sleeping a lot, and roam around in the nights.

As I was checking into my room, I came across Manoj Kumar P’s The Silence Beneath Kashi at the hostel’s bookshelf (singular). The cover seemed to have that familiar allure that had attracted me to Kashi. The book promised great revelations, and I approached it with great expectations. I was quickly disappointed. The author had written the entire book using ChatGPT – very engaging, no real content. The style and shifts were repetitive. The book didn’t make any particular point or led anywhere. I wondered if this was also a blessing from Shiv or whether it was a sign of Kalyug where it had been predicted that even Kashi would run dry. Between musings like these, I fell asleep.

Varanasi had that vibe. There is a lot of lull and a lot of chaos. It didn’t quite get anywhere. But it moves and shifts, often outside and often within you. You can’t really place it in any category. It is not a strictly religious destination. There’s spirituality but there’s also any kind of deviance that you might want to explore. There’s freedom to do anything you want. No one judges. Everyone and everything is Shiv, including the dogs that might block your path. Anger and love aren’t expressed differently. Civility lacks civility, and there’s a lot of it. It is a weird city. I was going to be here for the next few days. I was sure to run into some interesting incidents.

Hanuman Ansh – Review

“Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?” – Albus Dumbledore

My sister and I generally do not agree on movies. She is more of a Dabangg-girl; I am more of an Interstellar-guy. I’ve long learnt not to entertain her recommendations, and she knows this better than anyone else. So naturally I was surprised when she came and told me that not only would I enjoy Hanuman Ansh, but she would watch it again as well.

I checked out the movie. The cast and crew were unknown. Not just unknown, but the director, lead actor, singers… nobody even had a Wikipedia page. The movie barely had one. The songs seemed to be all traditional folk songs with no particular lyricist. Normally, I would ignore such movies as the futile attempt of some overzealous assistant director from Oshiwada who was doomed to fail. But my sister’s excitement got to me. I agreed and we booked a Sunday matinee show.

The theatre was full, contrary to my expectations. Even before the movie began, there were subtle hints of what was to come. There were absolutely no posters of the movie throughout the cinema hall, which was unusual. There weren’t many ads at the beginning of the movie. With a budget of only Rs. 2 Cr, I guess they didn’t spend on marketing at all. Come to think of it, how do you make a movie for Rs. 2 Cr in modern India anyway? Even Masaan was made on a budget of Rs. 7 Cr; but it did enjoy relatively known faces like Richa Chadha and Vicky Kaushal from recent Gangs of Wasseypur fame. Hanuman Ansh seemed to be made by a rag-tag group of theatre actors who wanted to get into filmmaking. But more on that later.

The movie begins with a disclaimer, which was a herald of things to come. Hanuman Ansh is the story of Neem Karoli Baba. It should classify as a devotional movie or a biopic – a controversial genre in contemporary India. Normally such movies follow a long disclaimer. The disclaimer of Dhurandhar: The Revenge runs into 15 lines putting all kinds of legal liabilities behind the movie. The disclaimer of Mahavatar Narsimha runs 7 lines emphasizing the religious nature of the movie and dramatization of some events. The disclaimer of Hanuman Ansh is just 3 lines – more like bullet points than sentences

• This is a devotional movie
• Some events are dramatized for the purposes of cinematic representation
• The ultimate interpretation to the wisdom of the audience

The usual long disclaimers about not hurting the sentiments of any community or any resemblance to any person being coincidental are absent. Rather, the wisdom of the audience is trusted. It has been a long time since a movie has trusted the wisdom of the audience. As a writer myself, I have difficulty trusting my audience anymore. This movie operates on conviction. And thankfully, finds its audience.

There are 2 scenes where this conviction is tested. One is when Baba leaves the town of Neem Karori. The entire town tries to stop him. When Baba does not relent, the town cries for a long time. Another is a scene where a person chants the Hanuman Chalisa in a night-scene in a forest. It is not a musical recitation of the Hanuman Chalisa. It’s just a man reciting it. With abrupt pauses, no rhythm, and no sense of melody. It’s like any average person would recite the Hanuman Chalisa when they find themselves in a spooky forest in the middle of the night. Both scenes run for over a minute on screen. Moviemakers don’t make such scenes anymore. There is always the risk of losing the short-attention span of the audience. People might forward the scene or check WhatsApp messages watching the movie screen-in-screen on their phones. This has been a point of debate among cinematic circles in recent times. Hanuman Ansh moves forward putting two scenes where they risk alienating the audience. The audience doesn’t budge. After a long time, we see a movie made with honesty and sincerity which feels refreshing. This movie does not chase TRPs; and that works with an audience starved for honesty.

Another point to note is given the right-winged times of the world propounded by movies like Dhurandhar and Kashmir Files. This movie does not delve into any politics or propaganda of any kind. It remains true to its devotion to Neem Karoli Baba and does not sway from it.

Coming to the cast and crew, long-time moviegoers will immediately recognize the crew as theatre trained. There is a fair bit of neck-acting, formally known through the Natya Shastra in Indian traditions. The most famous master of the art in recent times being Pankaj Tripathi. The camerawork is on spot, which syncs perfectly with the music, telling you that this is not an amateur crew, but a very experienced one who just haven’t worked on a big budget before. Thankfully, they will be able to now.

The background setting, minimal VFX, and costumes, dissolve seamlessly into the movie with nothing bothering the eye – just as good infrastructure should be. The Director comes with some experience over a few other projects, which I am now excited to watch. The lead actor is experiences as an assistant director with this being his first acting assignment. Like all good assistant directors, he delivers. It would be a miracle if this movie ends up grossing higher than Namit Malhotra’s Ramayan, but that may be a possibility. At least in terms of remaining true to the core message, Hanuman Ansh does a phenomenal job that any high-budget movie will not be able to do due to production constraints.

I walked out of the theatre with an unusual problem. At no point does the movie claim that the story is true. In fact, it takes efforts to disclaim the supernatural claims as fantasy and tricks on the eye. But I came out wanting the fantasy to be true. The engineer in me wasn't convinced. But perhaps that is exactly what the movie intended when it left the ultimate interpretation to the wisdom of the audience. Now that Hanuman Ansh has seen success, I hope it encourages filmmakers to look beyond the familiar mythology and tell more of these strange, forgotten stories of mystical India. We may not believe all of them. Perhaps we don't always need to.

Sitaram!

Before the War

The sky was unusually clear that night. No clouds. No dust. No omen that could be blamed later. The stars stood exposed, like witnesses who had agreed in advance not to intervene.

Across the plain of Kurukshetra, two great camps breathed in uneven sleep. Fires burned low. Armor rested beside men, who pretended to rest beside apocalypse. Horses shifted, chains clinked, conches lay silent waiting to be blown.

The same sky stretched over all of them. It did not choose sides, it waited.

Ashwathama

In the Kaurav camp, Ashwathama was awake. War is the only honest judge left among men, he thought, and he trusted its verdict more than councils and elders and trembling kings.

Ashwathama sat near a dying fire, sharpening a blade that did not need further sharpening. The rhythm soothed him. Stone against steel, like intention against action.

His fingers rose often, almost unconsciously, to his forehead, to the mani. The jewel sat embedded in flesh like destiny – cool and certain. A promise that was carved into bone.

They say I cannot be defeated, he thought. Not by Gods, not by men, not by beasts. I was born with powers, a gift for the good deeds earned over many past lives.

He looked up at the stars and smiled. The constellations were scattered formations. To his eyes they arranged themselves into army formations – celestial battle arrays. That cluster there, a spearhead. That arc, a flanking move. Even the sky, it seemed, respected strategy.

Tomorrow would not be chaos, it would be design. He imagined the songs that would follow. Not the soft songs of lovers, but the fierce songs of warriors. His body was already unconquerable, now his story would be immortal as well. He was the son of Dronacharya – unfallen, unbreakable, everlasting. He would still be alive when others would just be bodies on the ground.

Immortality thrilled him – to remain when others faded, that was victory’s purest form. Let heaven keep its gardens and hell its fires. The true reward was to still be alive when the last piece of embers had turned to ash!

A moth drifted too close to the ember and vanished in a blink. Ashwathama did not notice. He pressed the mani again and whispered, almost playfully, ‘let the others fear death. I have already defeated it.’

The sky did not answer. It had heard this before.

Sahadev

On the other end of the great battlefield lay the Pandav camp, where Sahadev had drawn a small chart in the dust and erased it three times. The calculations did not change. They never did. Planets did not bend for his discomfort. Fate did not soften for grief. The grammar of the sky was exact and humourless.

He had known this war was coming for a long time – before the first insult was thrown, before the palace burned with lacquer and deceit, before the dice was rolled… The patterns had always been there, like a creeper slowly making its climb.

Knowledge, people believed, was power. Surely such people had never been cursed by it. Sahadev looked up at the stars and saw destiny. The bright one near the horizon marked a fall on the tenth day. The red glint above it marked a vow fulfilled with terrible efficiency. A dim cluster to the north, almost invisible, marked a survival worse than death…

He closed his eyes. He knew who would win. That was the smallest part of it. He knew how they would win, and what it would cost them. Victory was not a clean number in his calculations. It was a fraction, with blood in the denominator.

He also knew something else. A quieter thread in the weave. He knew he would not speak. That was the knot. Could he speak and change it? The question returned to him every hour like a hungry wolf. If the future is seen, is it fixed? If it is fixed, why blame man? If choice exists, why does knowledge not alter it?

He tested the thought carefully, like a tongue on a broken tooth. If I tell them everything, will they act differently? He followed the branches forward in his mind. He had done this exercise many times. Each variation bent, twisted, resisted, and returned to the same trunk. Different paths, same forest, same fire.

He laughed softly, without joy. ‘So this is freedom,’ he murmured. ‘To walk willingly into what you cannot avoid,’ freedom to him was indistinguishable from bondage.

A guard passed and saluted. Sahadev nodded back, composed. The guard saw a calm prince. Not a man watching experiencing reality in advance.

There was also the vow. The strange binding condition laid upon his knowledge. That truth, fully spoken, would demand the ultimate price. Some truths are not forbidden by Gods. They are forbidden by structure.

Was his silence selfish? The accusation sometimes rose within him. Or was it obedience to a design larger than impulse? If he shouted the ending into the night, would dharma strengthen?

He looked again at the sky. It was not cruel. It was precise.

‘I know,’ he said to it quietly. ‘And still I will stand in line with the others, surprised on schedule.’

A breeze passed, erasing the last of his dust chart. He did not redraw it.

‘The sky has already decreed,’ he thought.

Krishn

Between the two camps, where the ground gently sloped and the grass had been flattened by chariot wheels, Krishn walked alone.

No guard. No banner. In the half-light he could have been mistaken for a common soldier who had lost his way. Or perhaps a musician searching for a quiet place to play his instrument…

He paused, looked around, and sat on a low rock.

Tomorrow, he thought, this stretch would be thunder. Wheels screaming, bows singing, men shouting the names of Gods they remembered only in danger. Tonight, it was only earth and air.

He picked up a blade of grass and turned it between his fingers, studying it with attention. The place did not need choosing. It had already been chosen when the world was first created. Some locations are less geography and more inevitability. A question waits there until an answer sits down.

He looked up at the stars. He did not calculate them. He did not map them to outcomes. His work was not prediction. His work was alignment. Men often confused the two.

He knew what would unfold. It was a necessity of balance. When weight shifts too far, correction must appear. Not always gently. He felt no excitement for victory, no dread of loss. Emotion, for him, was not absent. It was transparent. It did not block vision.

‘Tomorrow,’ he said softly, as if speaking to the field itself, ‘many will think they are fighting a battle. Few will realize that death was inevitable anyway.’

A night bird called and fell silent. Choice did not mean control over result. It meant clarity of intent at the moment of action. That was enough. More than enough.

He smiled slightly, imagining the hesitation that would seize the great archer at the edge of duty. Compassion would collide with duty. Love would argue with responsibility. A necessary fracture before understanding can appear. Words would be needed then, to reveal what action looks like when it is free from desire.

He lay back on the grass, hands behind his head, as if idling. As if nothing in particular was about to occur. The posture of a man with no appointment and no purpose. Very similar to a man with an appointment with time and infinite purpose.

To one camp, the sky was a promise of survival. To another, it was a ledger of loss. To him, it was a ceiling under which the world would hear Dharm speak.

 

The same sky covered them all.

By morning, men would swear the war began with a conch. They would be wrong. It began with how each of them read the night.

Hari-Har

Paradox

Vishnu is symbolized as the preserver of the universe. Resting in the cosmic ocean (sheer sagar), he sleeps. The ferocious 100-headed Sheshnag is domesticated and serves as the bed. The goddess of all prosperity sits at Vishnu’s feet, symbolizing his power. Vishnu is the preserver. He symbolizes social structure. Yet, Vishnu takes no real family. Laxmi is more of a consort than a wife. Of course in the mortal avatars, Vishnu marries Laxmi. But Vishnu himself isn't depicted as a family man.

On the other hand, the hermit (vairagi) god, Shiv, is depicted as a family man with a complete household. He has a battery of household staff, residence, legitimate wife, children, daughters-in-law, rides etc. Shiv is represented as a household man, even though his role is that of a ascetic, yogi, and destroyer.

There is a natural dichotomy in this. Why would this be? Is there a narrative explanation? Shiv has been depicted as a family man to showcase that even a vairagi can be a household person. But this is not shown in Vishnu. What other explanations can be there?

Vishnu

Vishnu is the preserver of the cosmic order (dharma), which is beyond the narrow human family unit. If he is shown enmeshed in family, his scope would shrink. His domain is the whole universe. Why tie him to one household?

He doesn’t need children or a household, because Lakshmi herself represents fertility, prosperity, continuity. She is the generative force. Thus, the Vishnu and Lakshmi combination serves as a self-sufficient unit.

When Vishnu enters the world as Ram or Krishn, he takes wives, sons, in-laws, and through them demonstrates righteous conduct in family and society. The avatar “borrows” household responsibilities so that Vishnu himself can remain unbound.

Vishnu’s role is meta-social. He preserves structure, not by embodying it in his personal life, but by overseeing and restoring it through avatars.

Shiv

Shiv is depicted as a yogi, outside the world. Yet, he is at once the most complete family man. This is holds a deliberate lesson – detachment does not require renunciation. One can be rooted in the world, yet free from its boundations.

Unlike Lakshmi who is seen to serve Vishnu, Parvati is a partner – in tapasya, power, and household. Through her, Shiv is forced to engage in worldly life – have sons, fight demons, and care for devotees. He doesn’t preserve order like Vishnu; he challenges it, destroys arrogance, but at the same time nurtures his family.

Shiv’s paradox teaches a different ideal – the sage need not abandon family; the deepest yogi can still be husband and father.

Reconciliation

Vishnu worship historically was linked with kingship and order – kings wanted a god beyond petty family disputes. Shaiva traditions, often rooted in folk and tribal cultures, needed a god who was close to daily life – hence the family setting.

For householders, Shiv provides a relatable deity – even the greatest ascetic cooks for his kids, fights with his wife, solves domestic quarrels. For rulers and administrators, Vishnu provides the archetype – beyond family, concerned with law, order, and dharma.

Dharma is not one path but a balance.

This reversal is not accidental. Vishnu shows how to run the cosmos; Shiv shows how to run the home. The preserver is personally detached; the destroyer is personally entangled. Each battles the idea of detachment and renunciation. Where Vishnu teaches cosmic preservation without personal attachment, Shiv teaches personal attachment without loss of cosmic detachment. Each looks towards the other as an ideal to strive for. They are enthralled by each other and aspire to one another. In the process, they become one – Hari-Har.

Dr. Strange and the Knife’s Edge

"Look, if it´s you or someone you love who´s on that operating table, and it´s life or death, I´m the one you want holding the knife." – Stephen Strange (deleted scene from Multiverse of Madness)

Dr. Strange’s story across the MCU is not just of a man mastering magic, but of a man wrestling with the illusion of moral mastery, forever on the edge between savior and sinner. The audience first meets the powers of the sorcerer supreme is through the Ancient One. We see that the sorcerer supreme wields an immense amount of power, that obviously has the potential to corrupt. The Ancient One is not immune to this and is seen to draw her powers from the dark dimension. She is able to maintain her moral ground with no overreaches of power except that one aberration. But this shows the potential for corruption that the power holds. The Ancient One could have gone down a darker path, but she didn’t. Her student, Kaecilius, did.

Kaecilius going astray is proof that mystical power has scope for corruption. There is one guiding light that the Ancient One gives to Dr. Strange as her dying words, which become his moral compass.

“Arrogance and fear still keep you from learning the simplest and most significant lesson of all – It’s not about you.” – The Ancient One

This simple truth, the knowledge that the higher order of things is more important, becomes Strange’s guiding light, even though he continues to struggle with it.

"You still think there will be no consequences, Strange? No price to pay? We broke our rules. Just like her. The bill comes due. Always!" – Karl Mordo

At the end of the movie, Dr. Strange defeats Dormamu by meddling with the laws of nature. Mordo gives his ominous warning. This almost becomes a pattern with Strange where he continues to break the rules, and pays the price. This begs the question, is Strange working to fulfil his duties to the multiverse or for his own glorification?

In Infinity War, Strange makes several key choices. Firstly he is upfront about willing to sacrifice his companions, Tony Stark and Peter Parker, in favour of an infinity stone. However, once having gone through alternate futures, Strange makes the morally ambiguous choice to sacrifice the stone, himself, and half the universe to save Tony Stark. This one decision, would come to haunt him later.

In No Way Home, Strange again makes the choice of meddling with the memories of the entire world to fulfil the whims of a boy. By doing so, Strange literally messes with free will and chooses to play God, taking decisions for the entire world upon himself. In the wake the fallout from that decision, Strange is willing to send back the multiversal visitors to their own universe which would mean their inevitable deaths, without offering them a chance at redemption – a point where he disagreed with Spiderman. Dr. Strange’s reasoning being that the order of the multiverse must be preserved to prevent incursions and a multiversal collapse, i.e. the greater good. History is witness that when a single man takes it upon himself to sacrifice others for the greater good, that’s where morality starts to become dubious.

“You break the rules and become a hero. I do it and I become the enemy. That doesn't seem fair.” – Wanda Maximoff

Arrogance was already a problem with Strange. It was a tool when he was a doctor. It was what made him drive recklessly on a cliff. Like the demon Raavan from Hindu scriptures, Strange was a perfect human specimen capable of playing God – extremely learned and capable. But his arrogance had potential to lead him astray.

This pattern of meddling with the universe continues in Your Friendly Neighbourhood Spiderman where Strange enters a new universe to fight a symbiote, only to create a bootstrap paradox that ends up creating the symbiote in the first place.

Next we are shown the alternate paths Strange might have taken through the multiverse. In What If we first meet an alternate version of Strange where Christine Palmer dies instead of him. This sets Strange on a path where he ultimately becomes Strange Supreme. He consumes many powerful beings to increase his own power, to the point that he is  barely able to contain them. And they in-turn begin to control him. He is so driven to madness with his ambition that he ends up destroying the universe. For the first time, the audience witnesses what Strange could have been.

This idea is explored further in Multiverse of Madness. Nicodemus West confronts Strange with the question if the blip was the only way to save the world. Strange knows that there were other ways, and he had made a choice for the world.

“I guess what keeps me up at night is wondering did it have to happen that way? Was there any other path?” - Nicodemus West

There’s a deleted scene from Multiverse of Madness where Strange and Chritine are asked about a new surgical method. The scene recounts that Strange is willing to use risky techniques, till he holds the knife. He trusts no one else with the power. But this begs the question, should be much power be allowed in any hands? But this scene is deleted for being too similar to the opening scene with Defender Strange.

The movie opens with Defender Strange making a choice to take America Chavez’s powers for himself because Strange thinks that the kind of massive power America holds is not safe for a child and only Strange can be allowed to wield it safely. For this, he is willing to sacrifice America Chavez as well.

“This is the only way.” – Defender Strange

In the same movie, we also see the Strange from Earth-838 using the darkhold to defeat Thanos on his own. This again, breaks the rules of mysticism. But Strange takes it upon himself to break those rules for the greater good. He even accepts death as punishment from the Illuminati for his discretion.

Next, we meet Sinister Strange in the movie, who also made choices that led to the destruction of his universe, where he was left stranded. But Sinister Strange had reached beyond redemption and fought the original MCU Strange for Christine Palmer.

At the end of the movie, Dr. Strange does consider taking America’s powers like Defender Strange did. But it’s like the Ancient One’s advice comes back to him – “it is not about you”. And he encourages America to take on the Scarlett Witch on her own. Here, we see a character development for Strange. He let’s go of the knife and believes in someone else holding the power. But this may not be true for his variants.

Strange walks the same tightrope in every universe. One misstep – love, duty, ego – and he falls into darkness. Like the law he mirrors, Doctor Strange’s morality is both his shield and his trap – built to protect the world, yet destined to break under its own weight. Strange is the MCU’s purest utilitarian, willing to sacrifice the few for the many. But the question reverberates whether he should be the one holding the knife.

Paganism and Creationism – A Hindu Perspective

Introduction

Human civilizations have always sought to explain their origins. Two major schools of thought dominate the religious imagination when it comes to creation. Various cultures have attributed different names to these two broad philosophies. For the purpose of this article, we shall name them as:

1.      Paganism: Rooted in the worship of nature

2.      Creationism: Based on the divinity of a transcendent creator.

The word paganism is Eurocentric – coined by Christians to label pre-Christian faiths as primitive. Paganism is often better understood as animism or naturalism, i.e. the worship of nature. Paganism is by definition a polytheistic practice and does not even fit in the definition of “religion” as perceived by Creationists.

Creationism, on the other hand posits that God stands outside the world, rather than being a part of it. God creates the universe and its inhabitants rather than being the universe.

The interplay of these two perspectives has shaped nearly every religious tradition. Curiously enough, Hinduism seems to contain both.

Paganism

Paganism, in its many forms, is the world’s oldest spiritual instinct. In this view, divinity is immanent. It dwells within nature rather than beyond it. The gods of the Greeks, Romans, Vedic Indians, native Americans, European Pagans, Zoroastrians etc. were not abstractions of morality but embodiments of elemental forces. The pantheon of Gods included the sky, thunder, water, fire, lust, horses, and even the Earth. To worship meant to engage, to harmonize with the living powers that governed existence. There was no clear line between the sacred and the natural. Man was not made in the image of God; he was a participant in a divine continuum.

This worldview naturally aligns with Darwin’s evolution: the idea that life emerges and adapts through natural processes rather than divine decree. The pagan cosmos is not static; it is a field of becoming. Its Gods evolve, merge, and dissolve, just as life itself does.

Creationism

Creationism by contrast, posits separation. The God of the Abrahamic faiths, i.e. Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, stands apart from His creation. He speaks the world into existence. Man, made in His image, is unique among creatures, endowed with free will and moral responsibility. Here, nature is not divine but designed; its beauty testifies not to its own power but to the mind of its maker.

The central theme of creation is the separation of mankind from God by gaining knowledge and self-awareness. Free Will itself is the forbidden fruit of knowledge that has separated Man from the Almighty and Man spends eternity in trying to return to his maker. The struggles of Man and life itself is attributed to this separation.

The symbols of this worldview are deeply anthropocentric: the Garden of Eden, the Fall, the divine command, the covenant. The relationship between man and God becomes one of obedience, redemption, and moral testing. The world becomes a stage for divine purpose.

The Hindu Synthesis

Hinduism stands at a fascinating crossroads of these two conceptions. Early Vedic religion, as reflected in the Rigveda, is unmistakably cosmological. Its hymns are dedicated to the elemental deities and its rituals are designed to maintain harmony between human life and the cosmic order. The divine is everywhere, woven into the fabric of the universe. Mathematics naturally emerges as the language of the universe.

Yet, as centuries passed, Hindu thought underwent a profound transformation. The Upanishads internalized the external gods into philosophical principles. Fire became tapasya, sacrifice became yagya, and the gods became symbols of consciousness itself. The Puraṇs later expanded these abstractions into stories of Brahma the Creator, Vishnu the Preserver, and Shiv the Destroyer, forming a triad that reintroduced personhood to metaphysical truths.

This evolution mirrors, at first glance, to the European shift from polytheistic paganism to monotheism. But the Indian transition differed in its method and spirit. In Europe, paganism was replaced by Christianity. In India, the old gods were not overthrown but absorbed. Agni did not vanish when Brahma appeared; he was reinterpreted as one of Brahma’s many manifestations. Nature was not desacralized but philosophically sublimated.

Aspect	European Transition	Indian Transition
Nature of change	Replacement	Integration
Outcome	Monotheism (one true God)	Monism (one reality, many forms)
Method	Suppression of paganism	Sublimation of paganism
Symbolic outcome	God outside nature	God within and beyond nature

The Indian genius lay in synthesis, not rejection. Paganism and creationism were reconciled in a vision where both creator and creation are expressions of the same underlying consciousness – Brahman. The famous Upanishadic line, Sarvam khalvidam Brahma (“All this is Brahman”), captures this perfectly.

The Question of Theseus: Is Hinduism Still Hinduism?

If the religion of the Veds and that of the Purans differ so greatly, can they still be called the same faith? By Western measures of doctrinal purity, perhaps not. But Hinduism’s strength has always been its elasticity. It never defined orthodoxy through fixed revelation. The Veds are sruti: truths heard from the cosmos. The Purans are smrti: truths remembered and reinterpreted by human minds. Revelation in Hinduism is cyclical, not linear. Truth is rediscovered, not imposed.

In this sense, Hinduism did not change identity; it changed language. What began as a worship of the elements matured into a meditation on being itself. What began as myth matured into philosophy, and what began as ritual transformed into introspection. It is not a religion that abandoned its past but one that continually digests it.

Conclusion

Hinduism may indeed have begun as a pagan religion, a reverence for the divine in nature. Over millennia, it integrated the creational, metaphysical, and moral dimensions that characterize more theistic systems. Yet, unlike Europe’s rupture between paganism and monotheism, India’s evolution was a synthesis. The elemental and the eternal, the personal and the impersonal, coexist within the Hindu imagination.

Thus, the modern form of Hinduism is neither purely pagan nor purely creational – it is both. It stands as a bridge between immanence and transcendence, between nature and spirit, between the god who is the world and the god who creates it. Hence, Hinduism did not cease to be itself; it became more self-aware. To call this Hinduism is not to name a fixed religion, but to acknowledge a timeless process: the universe, endlessly creating and rediscovering itself, through the mind of man. 

Infinity is Zero

In the beginning, there was nothing. And the universe was at peace. Then, in a tiny little planet, the first speck of life dared to rise.

It was a microscopic tit-bit, floating in a volcanic ocean that itself floated inside a universal void. It was the first time the universe created something different from itself. The first time “self” stood apart from the infinite. Until then, there had only been an endless oneness – a vastness with no boundary, and no need for a definition. But with that first trembling speck, a boundary was drawn – organic from inorganic, self from other, life from death. And with that line began the greatest journey of all – the journey away from the universe, or back to itself?

The Rise of the Self

As life evolved, it perfected the art of separation. The smallest microscopic life had the beginnings of “senses”, but no real free will.

Trees arose, rooted deeply into the earth, connected to each other through hidden mycelial webs – but still a part of the universe, each other, and the soil. It was impossible to tell where the roots ended and the soil began.

Animals tore away from the soil. They became mobile, hungry, and alert, their sense of ego sharpened. The need to preserve the “self” grew, even if it meant killing another. Senses directed action. There was independent thought, and independent life. Loneliness arose for the first time.

And then came humans, the greatest masters of separation. We did not just eat or move – we named, owned, enslaved, created, passed on, immortalized. We built layers and layers of meaning, identity, and culture. The “self” swelled into something monumental, at time even monstrous.

What began as a single boundary between organism and universe became a fortress of ego. Life was separated from the universe, and learnt to exist in isolation.

Entropy

The same story played out at the cosmic scale. The universe began with unity. In the singularity of the Big Bang, there was no space, no time, no matter. A pure point of nothingness, and everything. Then expansion came, and with it, structure. Galaxies, stars, planets, and eventually life. Order emerged – but so did disorder. Entropy, the measure of chaos, became the law of the cosmos.

But entropy has only one conclusion: return.

After the last stars burn out, when the last black hole radiates disintegrates into the last photon, the universe will dissolve into a flat, silent void. No gradients, no forces, no distinctions. No space, no time. Just like the moment before the Big Bang. The beginning and the end are mirrors. Entropy, in its final maturity, is not chaos but peace. The heat death of the universe is nothing less than liberation into nothingness – moksha.

The Greatest Sin

Religion confirms. In the Garden of Eden, when all was innocent, humanity’s fall comes through knowledge. Eating the fruit of knowledge separated man from God, and the self from the universe. Awareness was exile. From that moment, humanity had to labor through suffering, history, and civilization in order to earn the way back. The arc of the Bible is not one of progress, but of return – from paradise, through alienation, back to paradise.

Eastern traditions echo the same rhythm. Buddhism sees ignorance not as a lack of knowledge, but as clinging to it. Enlightenment is not accumulation but cessation. The Upanishads insist: you are not this body, nor this mind, nor even the knowledge you think you hold. “Neti, neti” – not this, not this – until all that remains is the silent whole – the atma.

Christianity calls it God, Buddhism calls it nirvana, Vedanta calls it Brahman, Physics calls it the void – all point to the same: the loss of self, the loss of knowledge, the return to the universe.

Mathematics

Mathematics, too, encodes this riddle. Zero and infinity are opposites, yet they reflect each other. Divide by zero, and the result is infinity. Push infinity down into infinitesimals, and you arrive at zero. The circle closes.

Calculus thrives on this paradox: the infinite steps that converge into nothingness, the infinitesimal fragments that sum to infinity. In both directions, the human mind meets a wall. Beyond that wall, there is silence.

Gödel’s incompleteness theorem whispers the same truth: a system can never explain itself fully. Knowledge can never complete itself. The supreme knowledge is the recognition of its own impossibility – which is to say, the supreme knowledge is surrender.

Language

If knowledge is exile, then language is its first weapon. To name is to divide: this from that, me from you, sacred from profane. Language lifted humanity out of the ocean of being and gave us history, philosophy, and law. But it also tore us away.

And yet, in its deepest wisdom, language knows its limits. The Upanishads fall into silence at the highest truths. Zen teachers use paradox and nonsense to unhook the mind from words. The Tao Te Ching begins: “The Tao that can be spoken is not the eternal Tao.” At the summit, language bows out.

Technology – our latest flowering of language and logic – carries the same irony. Algorithms divide us into ever-narrower selves, yet they also weave us into one global consciousness. The cloud is a strange prototype of the cosmic mind. We are building the machinery of separation, only to find that it mirrors the unity we lost.

Psychology

Individually, the story repeats. The infant begins without separation – no sense of self, just raw immersion. Slowly, the ego develops, boundaries harden. The child learns to say “I,” and exile begins. The adult becomes a fortress of memory, desire, identity. But through meditation, through surrender, the layers can be peeled away. Enlightenment is not discovery but return – a child’s innocence regained, but now conscious.

Even in modern science, psychedelics and neuroscience show us that the sense of self is not permanent. It can dissolve. People feel most “alive” when they loose a sense of self – in art, in work, in love. And when it does, people report the same thing sages have always said: oneness, unity, peace.

The Paradox

Here is the paradox. To return to nothing, we must strive. To dissolve knowledge, we must use knowledge. To lose the self, the self must make the effort. Scriptures, philosophies, even this essay, are ladders. They are meant to be climbed, only to be discarded.

Zen calls this the finger pointing at the moon. Useful, but not the moon itself. The Bhagavad Gita calls it nishkama karma – action without clinging to the fruit. One must build the self in order to let it go.

The entire story of life, of civilization, of the universe, is one great detour – a spiralling journey away from the whole, so that the reunion may be conscious. Without separation, no return. Without exile, no homecoming. Without knowledge, no surrender of knowledge.

The End is the Beginning

The first speck of life arose as a division. The last breath of the universe will dissolve that division. The alpha and the omega, the aadi and the anadi, are one and the same.

Everything we call history, knowledge, civilization, progress, is nothing but the journey back to nothing. The trees knew it by remaining still. The animals forgot it in their hunger. Humanity complicated it into philosophies and scriptures. But in the end, all paths lead back to the same ocean.

When the last black hole sighs into emptiness, when the last thought ceases, when the last name falls away, the circle will be complete. Nothing will remain. And the universe will be at peace again.

Delayed Gratification

Masturbation is one of the most universal and paradoxically unspoken human behaviours, particularly among men. Depending on which study you cite, anywhere from 70% to 95% of men masturbate regularly, with frequency peaking in adolescence and early adulthood. In a 2017 survey, over 70% of urban Indian men admitted to regular self-stimulation. Global surveys like the National Survey of Sexual Health and Behavior (US) show that men aged 18–29 average 3–5 times per week, with frequency gradually tapering but never quite vanishing.

In short, masturbation is a routine part of male life. We give it time, focus, energy, and attention. It becomes enmeshed in our daily rhythms, serving various purposes: relief, distraction, boredom, stress reduction, or just plain physical urge. It doesn’t require planning. It doesn’t ask for permission. It slips into the background of our lives so smoothly, we stop even noticing it. And maybe that’s the point where it deserves to be noticed.

I’m a 34-year old man. And like most men, I’ve masturbated almost daily for years. My patterns have varied, less when I’ve been in relationships, more during isolated phases. Sometimes for desire. Sometimes for sleep. Sometimes for nothing at all.

But then, a few weeks ago, I just stopped.

There was no vow. No challenge. No calendar mark. Just... a pause. Initially, I felt the familiar pressure – the itch to reach for the old reflex. But I didn’t. Not out of strength, but apathy. A few days passed. Then a week. Then two. And suddenly I realized something strange: I didn’t even want to do it anymore.

But that wasn’t all. Alongside the abstinence came a series of changes – subtle at first, and then undeniable:

• My focus sharpened. My thoughts became clearer, my memory crisper.
• I began feeling more present, more sensitive. Not in a reactive way, but in a conscious one.
• My body held more energy. Not jittery. Just available.
• There was restlessness too. A kind of coiled fire. Not frustration, but a drive I didn’t quite know how to channel.

There were also physical sensations – a slight ache – the so-called "blue balls". But even those passed. The longer I went, the easier it became. It wasn’t willpower anymore. I just called it a new habit. But as I dug deeper, I realized that it was something more elemental. It was a sense of reorientation.

Curious, I began to read. And what I found startled me – not because it was shocking, but because it gave words to what I had already started feeling:

1. Dopamine Reset: Masturbation, especially with porn, floods your brain with dopamine. Done frequently, it can lead to desensitization. Abstaining allows your receptors to reset, restoring your baseline sensitivity to pleasure and motivation.
2. Testosterone Surge: Some studies show that abstaining for around 7 days can cause a short-term increase in testosterone – linked to drive, assertiveness, and vitality.
3. Energy Transmutation: Many men report that sexual energy, when not released, gets converted into creativity, ambition, and physical performance. I felt this too. That restless energy began to fuel workouts, ideas, words.
4. Emotional Rewiring: Masturbation can be a form of emotional regulation. We reach for it when anxious, bored, sad, or just tired. Without it, those emotions have to be felt. It’s uncomfortable at first. But over time, it builds emotional muscle.

For something so common, masturbation is almost never discussed, especially in Indian culture. It's joked about in hostels and among teenagers, but serious, nuanced, non-judgmental conversations are rare.

And yet it’s an inherent urge. Testosterone kicks in at puberty. Fantasies begin. Exploration happens. It’s natural. But when does nature become habit? And when does habit become compulsion? That’s where the line between physical need and addiction appears. There are a few common signs of dependency:

• You need porn to feel anything.
• You masturbate multiple times a day and still feel unsatisfied.
• It becomes your default stress release.
• It replaces emotional connection or real intimacy.
• It affects sleep, productivity, or social life.

This isn’t just about semen. It’s about dopamine loops, shame cycles, and escapism. Going without doesn’t make you a monk. It makes you aware. Your mind clears. Your instincts feel stronger. Your self-control grows – not in repression, but in presence. You stop being tugged by impulse. You start owning your direction.

In his book “Secrets of Shiva”, Devdutt Pattnaik talks about how Shiva's controlled abstinence gives him cosmic power. He's not celibate out of fear – but because his energy is focused inward. In Hindu mythology, abstaining creates heat – tapas. The rishis practiced it. Shiva embodies it. There are even incidents such as Hanuman and Rishi Bharadwaj’s accidental ejaculations, displaying that abstinence keeps men in a state of perpetual “on the edge”. It also means that these men are always hyper-aware and active. Always at the pre-orgasmic awareness.

Abstinence doesn’t kill desire. It charges it. It makes you alert. Watchful. Deep.

I’m not advocating lifelong abstinence. This isn’t “NoFap evangelism.” I’m not saying masturbation is bad. It isn’t. In moderation and with mindfulness, it’s healthy and enjoyable. But I do think we’ve become too passive with our own impulses. And when you go without, you begin to see:

• Emotional clarity
• Energy reserve
• Rebalanced dopamine
• Rekindled motivation
• Heightened desire – not constant stimulation, but focused hunger

However, there are risks associated with total abstinence as well. Irritability, aggression, sleep disturbances, loneliness, and emotional bottlenecking (if not expressed elsewhere) are common risks of abstinence. The solution isn’t to ban yourself or indulge endlessly. The solution is to ask, “why am I doing this right now?”

If the answer is boredom, stress, or avoidance – pause. If the answer is conscious desire – go ahead. The act doesn’t define you. The awareness does.

This journey didn’t start as a resolution. It started with noticing. Noticing how much of my energy was automated. How often I reached for comfort instead of connection. And how that small shift – of doing nothing – changed the way I relate to everything.

You don’t need to go cold turkey. You just need to be conscious.

Because sometimes the most powerful thing a man can do is not act. Not because he’s weak.

But because he’s finally awake.

Ik Onkar

“We all said even though that ideal wasn’t always observed, that was the right ideal to have.”

– Barack Obama

 

In the midst of a battlefield, a distraught warrior asks his charioteer how navigate the chasms of his soul…

In a palace, a wise king asks a deformed sage about the nature of reality and bondage…

In a dream, a wizard asks his departed mentor the meaning of his journey…

 

A vibration trembles across creation. Not a word. Not a noise. A remembrance. Echoing before the first thought.

 

Ik Onkar…

The One. The First and the last. The primordial sound of the universe. The first sound that ever was. The last sound that ever will be. A tower of fire without beginning or end. The cosmic microwave background. He is consciousness. He is the soul of the universe. The circumpunct. The One

 

Sat Naam…

Ana al-Haqq. Altheia. Tao. Truth. The one truth. The only truth. Truth is all there is

 

Karta Purakh…

He is the creator. He is the creation. He is the Architect. He speaks. He sings. Kun Faya Kun – Let there be…

 

Nirbh-a-o-Nirvair. Akaal Moorat. Anjoonee Saibhn…

Beyond fear. Beyond hate. Beyond time. Beyond space. Beyond birth. Being. Always was. Self-preserving. He is the source code behind all things. The logic before the language. The silence before the song. Everything Everywhere All at Once.

 

Gur Prasaad. Jap…

He can be discovered as a grace of the teachings. We endlessly recite only his name. We remember only his tale. We constantly think of him when we are thinking and we think of him when we are not thinking. We devote to him.

 

Aad sach. Jugaad sach. Hai bhi sach. Nanak Hosee bhi sach…

He is the only truth since the beginning. He is the only truth over time. He is the only truth right now. He will be the only truth in the future. He is Sanatan. He is Tathagata. He is that is. Eru Iluvatar. The Force. The Source.

 

Sochai sauch na hovae, je sochee lakh vaar…

The impurities of the mind cannot be purified by thoughts, even if you think for a lakh times. Neti, Neti – the path to realizing is to unrealize all that isn’t. Fanaa – annihilation of the self.

 

Chupai chup na hovae, je lao rahaa liv taar…

“You’re waiting for something… maybe your next life.” Stillness is part of the way, not the way itself. The chatter of the soul shall not be calmed by silence, even if one stays quiet forever

 

Bhukhi-aa bhukh naa utree, je banaa puree-a bhaar…

The hunger shall not be satiated, even if all material desires are fulfilled. This is Trishna. This is Naf. The insatiable craving. The greed of dragons. The One Ring. The things you own that end up owning you. For what good is it to gain the whole world?

 

Sehas si aanpaa lakh hoh ta, ik naa chalai naal…

Bhagya. Fate. All the world’s a stage. I can possess all the wits of the world, it will not lead to my desired outcome

 

Kiv sachi-aaraa ho-ee-ai, kiv koorhai tutai paal…

So what is the path to truth? How do I break the falsehoods? How do I know moksha from maya? How will the truth set me free? How do I overcome the ego? How do I awaken to reality? What lies beyond the veil?

 

Hukam rajai chalnaa, Nanak likhi-aa naal

There is only one path to truth. To follow his order and to walk his path. That is the only path I can travel. That is the only path there is. Accept.