*P A R Y U S H A N : 2 0 2 6*
🌿 A Reminder to the Self 🌿
Whenever I think about religion, life, death, afterlife, or liberation, there is one question that naturally arises within me:
Why?
Not “why” born out of doubt, rejection or negation.
But why in the sense of purpose.
Why am I doing this?
What is it meant to accomplish?
Where is this taking me?
And does this truly serve the ultimate purpose?
That is perhaps why, when it comes to the path of liberation, I have always felt the need to understand the why before investing myself completely in the what and the how.
Studying.
Swadhyay.
Austerities.
Tap.
Ceremonies.
Disciplines.
Practices.
I want to understand their purpose before I perform them merely because they have been prescribed.
I have always wanted to live a purpose driven life. And once I gain sufficient clarity about the direction, I want to walk that path wholeheartedly.
But I also want to remain willing to reroute.
Because if, somewhere along the journey, I discover that the road I am walking is not taking me towards the purpose, continuing merely because I have already travelled a long distance would make little sense.
So there have been years of walking, stopping, questioning, rerouting, taking detours, discovering, unlearning and rediscovering.
And today, despite knowing that my pace is painfully slow, I feel something I did not always have:
Clarity about the path.
The destination is not somewhere outside.
Liberation is not a place to reach.
It is the ultimate cleansing of the Soul.
The Soul and karmas are distinct. The karmas may have been associated with the Soul since beginningless time, but they are not the Soul.
And therefore, the work is not to become something new.
It is to progressively remove what obscures what is already there.
As the karmic coverings fall away, the inherent potential of the Soul becomes increasingly manifest.
And among the karmas, the deepest work seems to begin with the Mohaniya karma, the delusion that makes me identify myself with what I am not.
This body is a vehicle.
This mind is an instrument.
Thoughts arise.
Emotions arise.
Sensations arise.
Circumstances arise.
Punya and paap karmas come into fruition.
Experiences keep unfolding.
But I am the knower of all this.
I am not the body.
I am not the mind.
I am not the emotions.
I am not the circumstances.
I am not the karma that is coming into fruition.
And I am certainly not the doer of everything that happens through this vehicle.
My true karta is my own nature.
And perhaps this is where Nijbhaan, complete awareness of the Self, becomes so central.
Not merely knowing intellectually that “I am the Soul”.
But repeatedly, moment after moment, becoming aware of it.
Knowing that I am knowing.
Watching without getting lost in what is being watched.
Witnessing without creating another layer of attachment or aversion.
This is where I want to place my attention during these eight days.
Of course, Paryushan is not limited to eight days.
The path is not seasonal.
The remembrance is not seasonal.
The work is not seasonal.
But these eight days can become an especially conscious period of training, a deliberate opportunity to pause, introspect, observe, analyse and strengthen the direction in which I want this life to move.
So perhaps I don't need to create an elaborate spiritual programme for these days.
I need something much more fundamental:
Awareness.
If I am studying, be aware that I am studying.
If I am listening to a vyakhyan, be aware that I am listening.
If I am doing tap, be aware of what is happening within.
If I am silent, be aware of the silence.
If thoughts arise, know that thoughts are arising.
If emotions arise, know that emotions are arising.
If irritation arises, know that irritation is arising.
If attachment arises, know that attachment is arising.
If aversion arises, know that aversion is arising.
If comfort comes, observe it.
If discomfort comes, observe it.
If punya unfolds, observe it.
If paap unfolds, observe it.
Whatever karma chooses to bring before me, let me practise remaining the knower and observer, rather than getting completely absorbed in the drama of the vehicle.
And perhaps even when I fail to remain aware, there is another opportunity:
Become aware of the fact that I became unaware.
No guilt.
No unnecessary self judgement.
Just return.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Because this is training.
The vehicle will continue to move.
Life will continue to happen.
Karma will continue to unfold.
People will say things.
Circumstances will change.
The body will experience pleasure and pain.
The mind will produce thoughts.
Emotions will rise and fall.
I cannot necessarily control all of that.
But I can keep training myself to recognise:
“This is happening to the vehicle.
I am the one who knows that it is happening.”
And perhaps this is the most important practice for these eight days.
Not running away from life.
Not creating an artificial spiritual identity.
Not collecting more spiritual information.
Not even becoming obsessed with doing more and more.
But becoming increasingly aware of who is actually experiencing all this.
There are twelve forms of Tap described in the traditional teaching, and beyond these external and internal austerities lies the deeper principle expressed as “Ichcha Nirodhah Tapah”, the restraint, cessation or dissolution of desires.
That makes me pause.
Because ultimately, perhaps the most meaningful Tap is not merely what I can make the body endure.
It is what happens to the inner demand.
The craving.
The resistance.
The insistence that reality must be different from what it is.
The attachment to what I want.
The aversion to what I don't want.
The subtle insistence of the ego that says:
“This should happen.”
“This should not happen.”
“I need this.”
“I cannot accept that.”
And so, while the world may see eight days of Paryushan, I want to see eight days of training the driver.
The vehicle can continue to perform its functions.
Let it eat.
Let it work.
Let it speak.
Let it listen.
Let it walk.
Let it rest.
Let it experience whatever karma brings.
But let the Driver become increasingly conscious of itself.
Dilip is doing.
The Soul is witnessing.
The vehicle is moving.
The Driver is watching.
And perhaps, slowly, the distance between intellectually knowing this and actually living from this awareness is what I need to reduce.
I don't need to worry about who complicated the path.
I don't need to judge who understood it and who did not.
I don't need to win an argument about what is truly spiritual.
I have spent enough time searching.
Enough time questioning.
Enough time taking detours.
And today, I am grateful for the clarity that has emerged.
The path now appears beautifully simple.
Not necessarily easy.
Not necessarily quick.
But simple.
Know the Self.
Observe the Self.
Return to the Self.
Reduce attachment and aversion.
Dissolve delusion.
Cleanse the karmic coverings.
And allow the inherent nature of the Soul to reveal itself.
The journey may still be long.
My pace may still be slow.
There may still be countless moments when I forget.
But I know where I want to walk.
And perhaps, for these eight days, that is enough.
I don't want to merely celebrate Paryushan.
I want to use it as a training ground.
A laboratory for awareness.
A mirror.
A reminder.
A conscious attempt to watch the unfolding of karma without losing sight of the one who is watching.
So, Dear Self,
Pause.
Watch.
Know.
Remember.
Whatever happens, remain aware.
And whenever you forget,
remember again.
The path is not outside.
The work is not outside.
The liberation is not outside.
The Soul is already what it is.
I only have to stop covering it.
And perhaps that is the whole journey. 🙏
