Meditations on Transcendence

  The Modaka as a Symbol of Urdhva Moolam The sacred sweet modaka is not merely prasāda ; its very ākāra (shape) carries profound Vedantic wisdom. Its conical form points upward, reminding us of the journey of consciousness towards ūrdhva mūlam (rooted above), as declared in the Gītā : ūrdhva-mūlam adhah-śākham aśvattham prāhur avyayam . The tapering tip of the modaka symbolizes the ascent of jīva from adhara cakra (base center) to sahasrāra (thousand-petaled lotus), the abode of pure awareness. The broad base represents life in saṃsāra , where experiences are many, yet the spiritual aspirant must refine and narrow attention to the bindu (point) of realization. Only in this inward and upward journey arises true muda (joy) and pramoda (supreme bliss). Thus, every offering of modaka to Gaṇeśa is not only ritual sweetness but also an inner reminder: the path of devotion and knowledge is always ūrdhvagāmin (upward-moving), culminating in union with Brahman .

Maya as Conflict: The Path to Spiritual Perfection Life appears before us as an endless battlefield with Maya, the great illusion, as our constant challenger. She presents herself not as an enemy to be destroyed, but as a force that draws us into conflict, testing our sincerity, humility, and endurance. Every attachment, every desire, every “mine” (mama) becomes a subtle bondage, creating tabs of karma that must be paid sooner or later. Like a divine auditor, Chitragupta records every act, reminding us that no debt of illusion goes unnoticed. Yet, bliss (ānanda) is not in Maya—it is in Puruṣha, the eternal witness untouched by worldly games. To move towards the Purusha, a certain naïve simplicity and humility—like water flowing low—is essential. Yoga, service at home, adoration of the Lord, and straightforward truth (avakri) build a spiritual atmosphere that keeps the soul steady amidst conflict. Maya raises hopes, only to dissatisfy. She entangles us in memories, pleasures, and confli...

The Golden Honmoon & the Song of the Golden Lord It is said that in the shadowed age, when demons crept unseen among humans, a ruler named Gwi-Ma feasted not on flesh, but on the shimmer of souls. His minions roamed freely, whispering fears, sowing quarrels, turning love to ash. Three women rose from the quiet corners of the world — unremarkable to the unseeing eye — but carrying voices woven with a power older than moonlight. With song, they cast the Honmoon, a shimmering barrier stitched from sound, keeping the darkness at bay. Far from that realm, yet closer than breath, the Golden Lord Śrī Chaitanya walked the dusty lanes of Navadvīpa. His song was not of charms or incantations, but of the Holy Names — Hare Krishna Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna Hare Hare / Hare Rama Hare Rama Rama Rama Hare Hare — a chant that wrapped the earth in a second, brighter Honmoon. Like the trios of guardians, each new devotee became another singer in the great work, holding the barrier against kali-pu...

  सत्यसेवायां सानन्दः “Bliss Lies in the Service of Truth” In the deepest layers of Vedāntic thought, the soul (ātman) is inherently full of bliss— ānanda . Yet this bliss is not self-originating; it flowers only when the self aligns with its true nature: service (sevā) to the Absolute Truth (satya) . Like a spark drawn to fire, the individual soul rediscovers joy in its connection to the Supreme. The Absolute is not void or impersonal, but rasa-svarūpa —the embodiment of divine relationship and joy. True love, by nature, is self-offering, and thus, service becomes the highest freedom . When our actions are dedicated as worship ( yajña ), and our identity is that of a loving servant ( dāsa ), we transcend ego and taste divine bliss. To serve the Truth is not slavery—it is svabhāva (natural function). To serve in love is not duty—it is ānanda (true joy).

  Time Is the Fire You Must Offer Time is finite. Every moment spent is a silent offering—either to Māyā or to the Divine . Scrolling endlessly, bingeing distractions, we unknowingly pour the sacred oil of our time into fires that yield no light. True sādhana begins when we sacrifice the trivial for the eternal . Drop Netflix. Offer those hours at the feet of Śrī Nāma . In doing so, you are not losing leisure—you are redeeming your soul . The Bhagavad Gītā (4.23) says: gatasañgasya muktasya jñānāvasthita-cetasaḥ yajñāyācarataḥ karma samagraṁ praviliyate || "When a person performs action as a sacrifice, free from attachment and ego, all their karma dissolves." Sacrifice isn’t pain—it’s power. It is the doorway to transcendence, already within you , waiting to be remembered. Time offered to God doesn’t pass—it purifies. This is the sacred economy of sādhana.