A Helpless Soul

  When I was a child, I was terrified of the dark. Not because of what I saw, but because I couldn’t see. The dark space between walls. Knowing someone or something could be there with me. a presence — watching, waiting, conspiring. It made me fear being alone, fear being with myself. I don’t remember where the idea came from — maybe it was one of art of living courses I had attended — but one night, I decided to challenge it. My family was awake in the living room. I quietly walked to my bedroom, turned off the lights, and stood there in the complete darkness. My heart was pounding.  I stayed by the door, just in case I had to make a quick escape. I raised my hand, snapped my fingers at the nothingness in front of me and said: “Do your worst.” As if I was calling it for a fight. I waited. Nothing happened. Then I stepped out, heart still thudding, but something in me shifted. Since that night, I’ve never truly feared the dark again. The fear still visits — the same feeling th...

I know this blog usually leans dark philosophy— but bear with me, I want to tell you a story. Once, an old man lived alone in a cabin. He was cursed: if he stepped outside, he’d die. He had many children and he would send his children  out into the world to explore and return with stories, objects, information. That’s how he learned about the world, from the safety of his confinement, from the love he has for his children. He gave them careful instructions: what to look for, how to behave, what to avoid. Often, they brought back telling stories with contradictions: flowers with thorns, honey surrounded by bees. Then one day, He told them he wanted it at any cost — the most beautiful thing in the world. The one who brought it back would be his favorite. The children, eager to please him, scattered in all directions. But their excitement didn’t last long. They returned in panic. One of them had been burned, head to toe. His younger brothers said they’d found a sleeping drago...

  Embedded above is a general overview of the Eightfold Path in Buddhism. While reflecting on it, I felt it’s more complex than it needs to be. That’s not to say it isn’t valuable—it is—but for me, a simpler model emerged that made more sense. As discussed earlier, Buddhism talks about the three poisons and their antidotes. The problem is, most people consume both—poisons and antidotes—without being aware that they are fueling two engines simultaneously  - loop of clarity and the loop of confusion. Or in other words, a blood thirsty murderer is also capable of great kindness simultaneously. He just needs the trigger to be kind. Similarly a kind soul is also capable of great atrocities, he just need the trigger to do so. The two loop model of confusion and clarity, suggests that through awareness and intention, it is possible to avoid the loop of confusion.  Right view leads to right aspiration, which leads to right action, and loops back to the right view. Enter at any p...

  As I had mentioned in an earlier post, someone once told me, "What is the point of saying sorry now?" That very phrase keeps popping up in my mind again and again. I don't remember the exact details about the day everything collapsed — only fragments. I remember clearly what I did that caused the explosion, but the day my world actually fell apart is just vague flashes. And yet, the fragments are vivid even today. I don’t remember if I was standing or sitting, crying or acting stoic. I don’t remember whether it happened before I ran, or after. But what I remember with absolute clarity is the meaning behind it — the curse intertwined in those words, and how it crushed my soul. But no — you are guilty! How can you be so affected? That is what my mother implied when she said, "Why are you acting like this?" It echoes every time I think about it, accusing me, telling me that I don't have the right to feel like this. The only thing that kept me from fal...

  Embedded above is a video of a Buddhist monk talking about the Three Poisons of Life — greed, hatred, and delusion. What struck me was how closely it lines up with a teaching from the Bhagavad Gita: “There are three gates leading to the hell of self-destruction for the soul—lust, anger, and greed. Therefore, one should abandon all three.” — Gita, Chapter 16, Verse 21 Different words, same message. Both point to the same inner enemies that quietly eat you alive. The Gita talks in more detail about lust and anger, and discusses delusion in other places — usually tied to ego, pride, or false identity. Buddhism uses the word rāga , often translated as greed, but really it points to craving of all kinds. Lust, greed, the need to possess, the desire to escape — it's all in there. So when you put it all together, what you're left with are three poisons: Desire Hate Delusion Upon discovering this, They do seem to connect to the guilt and shame I’ve been carrying and so I am wr...

  As I mentioned in an earlier post, I’ve been on a personal search to understand guilt and shame—feelings that have stayed with me for a long time. I went through video after video, article after article, and noticed one common thread: most of them assume you don’t deserve the guilt or shame you’re carrying. I found that approach shallow, even frustrating, it assumes you're wrong to feel what you feel, when your own mind knows the guilt is earned. One suggestion I came across was to list all the good you’ve done on one side, and the bad on the other, to evaluate whether you “deserve” to feel guilt and shame. I find that insulting. People don’t feel guilt because of a label—they feel it because of a specific incident, a real mistake that changed how they see themselves.  If society forces a shame without the underlying incident, it would be in our instinct to reject the notion (unless others controlled the environment too). In my opinion, in most cases, for most people, they...

  My reflection today begins with a story about a monk who kept helping a scorpion, even after it repeatedly stung him. When asked why, the monk said, “It is in the scorpion’s nature to sting, but it is in my nature to help.” That story lingers in my mind when I think about the things I’ve done—things I knew were wrong, but did anyway. It wasn’t just a lapse in judgment; it was a pattern born of ignorance and delusion. Back then, it was my nature—shaped by blindness. I stung like the scorpion, hurting those I loved without even understanding why. Eventually, the consequences caught up with me. My mother was in tears and my father was beyond angry. He has always left parenting to my mother and had never punished me, but on that day his anger was out of control, he had punched me and he was right in doing so. I didn't mind his violence but the deep hurt which I had caused them, hurt me too. I found myself drowning in sorrow and regret, unable to tell right from wrong, up from down. I...