The humid air of Odisha wrapped around me as I stepped off the train, a familiar comfort mixed with a whisper of judgment. I could almost hear the unsaid thoughts of some: "He's back. Perhaps he failed. Perhaps he's returned broken, defeated, to his parents." There's a certain societal narrative often woven around returns, especially when they seem to follow a period of struggle or a departure into the unknown. But is that truly the narrative playing out here? What is the real truth behind this homecoming?
I found myself pondering this on the journey back to Musadia, a deep sense of gratitude bubbling within me. The truth, I realized, was far more nuanced and profound than any simple judgment. My return wasn't one of defeat, but of intentionality. If there's one area of my life, one foundational bedrock, where I truly wish to improve my ways and mend any frayed connections, it is precisely here, with my parents. And, fortunately, that deeply personal work is unfolding, slowly but surely. There is an unspoken blessing in being able to return to the root, to build these most primary relationships first.
The Imperfection of Being Human
It’s a powerful lesson, often learned through experience: no one is entirely right, and no one is entirely wrong. This isn't just a convenient philosophy; it's a profound truth about the human condition. We build narratives of perfection around ourselves and others, expecting flawless conduct. Yet, history, mythology, and even our daily lives are replete with instances where even revered figures, our 'gods and deities', made mistakes. If cosmic beings can err, what are we, mere mortals?
And if gods can stumble, then certainly our parents, who are, after all, just human beings, can too. This understanding fosters a deeper well of compassion and forgiveness. Yet, there’s a crucial counterpoint: the universe, or the divine, rarely supports those who knowingly cause distress to their own noble parents, while simultaneously chasing external validation, fame, or superficial desires. This isn't a threat; it's an observed reality. My own journey, my own experiences, have powerfully confirmed this undeniable truth. It's a heavy lesson, but one that liberates you from self-deception.
The Poison of Excess
Life often teaches us balance through painful extremes. I’ve come to understand that excess of anything transforms it into poison. This isn't just about vices like overindulgence; it applies to seemingly innocuous traits too. Consider anger: in small, justified doses, it can be a catalyst for change. But in excess, uncontrolled, it becomes a corrosive acid, burning bridges and destroying inner peace. Similarly, ego – a healthy sense of self-worth is vital, but in its overwhelming, superior form, it blinds us, pushing away opportunities for true connection and growth. The poison isn't in the emotion itself, but in its unchecked, excessive grip on us.
A Car, A Life Lesson: Finding Value in the 'Used'
This realization about accepting imperfections and the dangers of excess came into sharp focus with a very personal, almost mundane, incident. I remember the excitement, the pride, of buying a brand-new car. It was a significant step, a mark of perceived progress. Only later, did I discover that it had, in a sense, been 'wrecked' or significantly damaged by someone else even before I truly owned it. A strange feeling of betrayal and regret washed over me.
My immediate thought was: "Why did I take a loan for this new, flawed vehicle? I should have just gone to the second-hand market. For the same price, I could have bought a bigger, more robust car that had already seen some life, had some stories, but was still reliable." You don't buy a car every day, and the lesson hit hard. Yet, here’s the interesting part: despite that initial disappointment, my car, even with its 'hidden history,' has remained remarkably good. It’s been reliable, it's served its purpose. And that's why, after a period, I'm now going to bring it back, to use it again.
This seemingly simple car story became a powerful metaphor for life. Sometimes, the 'new' and seemingly 'perfect' comes with hidden flaws, unexpected challenges. Often, the 'second-hand' – experiences, relationships, even parts of ourselves that have been 'used' or 'worn' by life – holds immense value, wisdom, and resilience. True worth isn't always found in pristine newness, but in enduring utility and lessons learned through imperfections.
The Unspoken Wisdom of Home
"I didn't know there was such a treasure trove of knowledge in my own home." This thought often echoes in my mind. We search far and wide for gurus, for wisdom, for peace, yet often the deepest peace of mind and profoundest knowledge reside within the familiar walls of our homes, nurtured by the silent strength and unconditional love of our parents, especially our mother. There’s a spiritual anchor there, a stability that no external quest can replicate.
Humility: The True Mark of Courage
There's a beautiful duality to a profound virtue: Humility is boldness, and true boldness is rooted in humility.
This might sound contradictory, but consider: to genuinely act for the good of another, to guide them toward the right path, requires immense courage. It's not about being timid or 'bowing down' – a common misconception among those who perceive humility as weakness. No, it's about investing your precious time, offering honest counsel, and sometimes even taking strong, decisive action that challenges the status quo. These acts of 'boldness' are only truly effective and ethical when they are born from a place of pure love and genuine concern, not ego or judgment.
Weak individuals are often the ones who misinterpret humility as subservience. They fear 'bending' or 'giving in' because they lack the inner strength to stand firm without needing to dominate. But the truth is, only those who are truly bold at heart possess the inner security to be genuinely humble. They don't need to assert superiority because their inner foundation is unshakable.
New Horizons: Embracing the Best Self
It is truly time to let the happiness that comes from winning within myself — from inner growth, self-acceptance, and living authentically — completely overpower any lingering fear of losing. That fear, that anxiety about external outcomes, can be crippling. But the joy of internal progress is a far greater motivator.
My new, overarching goal in life is clear and simple: to continuously strive to be a better version, and eventually the absolute best version, of myself. This isn't about perfection, but relentless, compassionate self-improvement.
And the very first, most fundamental step on this liberating journey is concrete: no more engaging in criticism of anyone else. Furthermore, I will actively strive to distance myself from environments and individuals who thrive on negativity, judgment, and constant fault-finding. My energy is better spent cultivating my own garden.
P.S.: The Unmatchable Grace of a Mother
In recent times, this truth has resonated within me with even greater force: no one, truly no one, can ever take the sacred place of a mother. My own mother is more than just family; she is my truest confidante, my best friend. Her care is boundless, utterly selfless. She prays for my growth and well-being with unwavering devotion, a constant shield of positive energy. It is a profound, undeniable truth that human beings often learn their deepest lessons only when they stumble, when they feel the sharp sting of pain. And in those moments of vulnerability, when others might judge or turn away, a mother's grace shines brightest. She alone possesses that miraculous ability to intuitively understand my silent pain, to set aside all grievances, and to shower me with the courage and boundless strength needed to rise again and move forward. Om.
