One week went by, two weeks... and by the third week I could see a tiny bit of dullness in his eyes. Maybe a reflection of my own disappointment through his eyes. I was going through some rough patches at work. Honestly, I had not been happy for a while. I asked him why it had not bloomed, since spring was already here.

The thing about Raghav is, I have never seen him show any negative emotions about outcomes. Be it the stock market fluctuations or real estate investment decisions that may have not worked in our favour, Raghav will always smile and hope for things to work out in another way. I on the other hand panic and overthink everything. So, as expected, he smiled at me and gave me a whole list of logical reasons instead. The nights were a bit too cold, the plant was settling after repotting, gardenias are fussy like that. He was so sure. “It will bloom Meera and it will be so beautiful, you’ll see.” he said.

On the fourth week, there it was. A small white petal peeking out. I spotted it at the break of dawn. And I decided not to say anything. Let him find it himself, I thought. He has waited long enough.

I was making tea when he came running in with wide eyes. “Did you see it Meera? It bloomed! ”

That was the day I was particularly irritated about the “results” of a project I was part of for 2 years. Someone had played work politics to get the lead on it and take it to the spotlight. All my work for nothing. But seeing Raghav happy, right then I just decided, okay, for this one moment, I am only going to be happy for the sweet gardener standing in front of me, whom I love. He was like a kid trying to show me a toy, asking me to step outside to smell it. So proud of himself.

I smelled it and made my eyes go wide in recognition of his claim with a typical Indian nod of approval. He copied me with his wide, lotus-like eyes, as if we were a meme on Indian couple stereotypes. More than the flower, Raghav looked divine with the sparkle in his eyes. I have always admired his big, beautiful eyes, second only to his cute, childlike smile. The next day the flower opened fully. I got my phone out to take a picture, and the first thing Raghav said was, “Take it for your prayer.”

Just like that. No “let it stay a little longer,” no “let me enjoy its presence for a few days.” He didn’t even let it sit in the pot for a day. He wanted to offer it to God right then, and he was so happy doing it.

It reminded me of a subhashita I have read somewhere:

परोपकाराय फलन्ति वृक्षाः परोपकाराय वहन्ति नद्यः ।
परोपकाराय दुहन्ति गावः परोपकारार्थमिदं शरीरम् ॥

Trees give fruits to help others. Rivers flow to help others. Cows give milk to feed others. In the same way, this human body should also be used for helping others.

The gardenia never bloomed for itself either, I thought.

That night I kept thinking about it. All those weeks of hoping and watering and making up reasons, and when the flower finally bloomed fully, he let it go in a second. No clinging. I remembered a Gita verse, 4.20:

त्यक्त्वा कर्मफलासङ्गं नित्यतृप्तो निराश्रयः ।
कर्मण्यभिप्रवृत्तोऽपि नैव किञ्चित्करोति सः ॥

Having given up attachment to the results, always content and dependent on nothing, such a person does nothing at all, even while doing everything.

That was him. Raghav.

I thought about my job, about how tightly I’ve been holding on to see the results of many years of work, and how frustrated I was that it was not getting me into the rooms I had been waiting for. It made me think that we only suffer because we are so attached to what the fruits are and how they benefit us. My chest loosened a little and I smiled. I decided then and there to bloom like my husband’s favourite flower.

The next morning, I went out to the garden. There was a second bud on the gardenia, and Raghav was already squatting beside it, looking for caterpillars or anything nasty, talking to himself. Same cycle, all over again. I just smiled and went inside to make another cup of tea for us.

This stretch held a lot: my 8-week grammar course came to an end, spring arrived in my garden, I came down with a virus, and my sentences slowly started getting more expressive (with a few more mistakes along the way). I’m still learning in public, and kind Sanskrit lovers here are still encouraging me one like, one comment, one correction at a time. Thank you for that 🪷

Here are all 28 sentences in one place.

I used AI tools to help pull the notes together into this essay. My own notes curated and made into an article by AI.

Day 29

A new beginning is simply me choosing my own way again, to create, to stop, to wander, to reinvent.

नवः आरम्भः नवानुभूतिं जनयति।

A new beginning creates a new experience.

Day 30

I wanted to use वक्तव्यं किमु, which works for stating the obvious. But when it’s a fact of the Lord, it is going to create some contradiction in the sentence 🪷 Why? Because:

रहस्यमयः सः वक्तव्यं किमु।

He is mysterious, what more need be said?

Day 31

Death is the silent certainty. If only our actions could remain mindful of it, holding firmly to love and forgiveness every step of the way.

मृत्युः एव अस्मिन् जगति सुनिश्चिततमः अस्ति।

Death alone is the most certain thing in this world.

Day 32

Today I came across a word I have not seen much: ग्लहं (the stake, what is put at risk). I thought this word made more sense in this day and age than any, so I decided to put it to use.

कार्यस्थानं नूतनप्रकल्पे विपुलं ग्लहं करोति।

The workplace makes a huge wager in the new project.

Day 33

Today I’ve been playing old Hindi songs, and I travelled back to my old room as a school kid: walls full of posters of celebrities, a school timetable neatly made into a chart, revision charts and so on. Kids these days are so much more aesthetic with their rooms ✨

अहं सर्वदा सङ्गीतेन सह कालगमनं करोमि।

I always time travel with music.

Day 34

I love gherkins, and lately I am a little obsessed with the sweet and sour version. So today I profess my love for these tiny, crunchy, sweet and tangy little fellows ❤️🥒

मह्यं मधुराः सन्धिताः कर्कट्यः रोचन्ते।

I like sweet pickled cucumbers.

The way I formed this is “to me, sweet pickled cucumbers are pleasing.”

Day 35

I have worked remotely for years now, and I got a puppy around the same time. Last year he slipped out of his fur body, and the house became mine again during the day. Slowly I built small new routines around my day, and they’ve made my own company feel steady. I kind of like this too now.

अहं स्वसङ्गं कामये।

I desire my own company.

Day 36

Today at the ashram, Swamiji asked me if I was writing a poem during the lunch break, seeing me bent over my notebook on the floor trying to form this sentence. He smiled when I said the Divine chose the word अक्षसूत्रं for today’s sentence, as we have been discussing japam a lot in class 🪷

अहं त्वाम् अन्विष्यमाणः तव पुरतः अक्षसूत्रहस्तः उपविशामि।

Seeking you, I sit before you with a japa mala in my hand.

P.S. There may be mistakes, as my sentences are getting more and more expressive each day. But I think it is still worth trying.

Day 37

I wish I had more time to read. At times I look at my calendar and think of blocking out days for reading. But there is always something that needs my attention, even on days I am off. Welcome to householder life 🫠

मह्यं पुस्तकानि पठितुं विरामः आवश्यकः अस्ति।

For me, a break to read books is necessary.

Day 38

Today I opened Instagram and was happy to see my feed filled with Sanskrit content, especially a group of kids making really funny videos in Sanskrit. I just loved it!

It made me realise I don’t speak this language I love so dearly in daily life.

अहं संस्कृते अधिकं वक्तुम् इच्छामि।

I wish to speak more in Sanskrit.

Day 39

The heaviness in the tech industry today made me want to pray for those who lost their jobs. No matter how used we are getting to all this, it still feels uneasy. Then it felt like the whole world could use a prayer, for anyone carrying something unseen, for anyone trying to stay steady in their own way 🙏🏽

सर्वेषां कल्याणाय प्रार्थये।

I pray for the welfare of all.

Day 40

What more should I say about how our world is going?

The blind leading the blind: this is what I had in mind to form the sentence, and a little book on Sanskrit helped.

अयं लोकः अन्धपरम्परान्यायेन चलति।

This world runs on the principle of the blind leading the blind.

Day 41

She hangs her japa māla on a small hook near the altar. She places a little tumbler of water for her Lord. The māla is placed close to the tumbler, so when she picks it up or hangs it back, it rings. Some days the sound is sharp, some days it is faint, and some days there is nothing. On the sharp days, she feels He is really happy with how she has carried herself that day. In this way they keep speaking daily, in their own way 🪷

मम भगवान् अहं च गुह्यैः मार्गैः वदावः।

My Lord and I speak in hidden ways.

Day 42

This evening we noticed many new buds and flowers in our garden, even on the weeds. Lots of brown butterflies and bees, all in full swing 🌿🌼

मम उद्याने वसन्तः पूर्णरूपेण विराजते।

In my garden, spring shines forth in full form.

One could also use वर्तते.

Day 43

Our 8-week grammar course came to an end. Towards the close of our call, I said this to express my gratitude to my teacher. She has been my grammar teacher since my Diploma days, and I have great love and respect for her. Always smiling, ever ready to help us: that’s her.

When I said this, she laughed, and I imagined her eyes twinkling with happiness ✨

हे महोदये, अहम् अतीव कृतज्ञा अस्मि।

Madam, I am deeply grateful.

Day 44

Today in our satsang we discussed a few verses that ended with “भेदः कुतः”. Naturally, my fragile attention pulled my hand to note down this phrase so I could form my sentence later in the evening.

ईश्वरस्य प्रेमः सर्वत्र समानः, तर्हि भेदः कुतः?

God’s love is the same everywhere, so where is the distinction?

This is a question I’d like to investigate 🕵🏽‍♀️ Perhaps it is a deeper conversation I need to have with myself. I do not doubt the source of Love 🪷 but maybe I need to contemplate more on how that Love is received, recognised, resisted or reflected through myself or another person.

Day 45

A virus attack is probably a sign to slow down, to catch up on sleep, rest and fluids 🤒 A restless mind is also a sign to slow down and remember God more than usual.

यथा रुग्णं शरीरं विश्रामम् अपेक्षते, तथा चञ्चलं मनः ईश्वरम् अपेक्षते।

Just as the sick body needs rest, so the restless mind needs God.

P.S. Using यथा…तथा instantly gives your sentence a glow-up, like the white truffle spray serum by d’Alba. Not sponsored ;)

Day 46

There is beauty in mystery. In a world where everyone knows everything everyone is doing, it’s hard to be mysterious. Yet there are parts of you that you can choose not to disclose, and that mystery is what keeps the fun alive. I think I learnt this from the Best 🪷🪈

तव रहस्यं मम मनः निमज्जयति।

Your mystery submerges my mind.

निमज्जयति is a fun word. Here the mystery makes the doer submerge, so the intensity is high. You could also form this sentence with निमज्जति, but then you form it gently with the locative रहस्ये (submerge in your mystery).

These nuances make this language feel like a puzzle every time I sit down to form a sentence.

Day 47

Thoughts are not always bad. We understand all this is not real. But without thoughts, I won’t even find you. Without your thoughts, I don’t exist at all. And that is the strange truth between us.

तव चिन्तासु मम अस्तिता, तासाम् अभावे मम नास्तिता।

In your thoughts is my existence; in their absence, my non-existence.

Day 48

In the early years of my career, I was told to speak at least once in every meeting, to offer something of value. Lately I feel your value should no longer be measured by one clever sentence in a meeting; it should be measured by your clarity. So I’ve been observing more and thinking less about performing. If a question needs asking, I ask it. If not, I listen.

अहं सभायां स्वेच्छया तूष्णीम् स्थितवती।

I remained silent in the meeting by my own will.

Day 49

Today I made some uthappams from leftover dosa batter, and they reminded me of my old man. He loves onion uthappams, so I told him my dinner menu, and he jokingly asked me to “Porter” it 😁 India is living in the future!

मम पितुः प्रियतमं प्रातराशभोजनम् उत्तप्पा अस्ति।

My father’s favourite breakfast is uthappam.

Day 50

I was thinking again about being an occasional Notes writer. I will continue my sentences, but maybe as a journal that I can occasionally publish as long-form content. I’ve noticed this pattern in myself on every social platform I am on. I get inspired easily, and then I feel the need to let go, because it may have started to take up more attention than other things that matter to me. Reading is addictive, and some authors here are just too good! Let’s see.

कदाचित् एवम् अपि स्यात्, अहं केवलम् अन्तर्धानम् इच्छामि।

Sometimes it may be so: I only want to disappear.

स्यात् helps with expressing wishful thinking.

The Sandhi lovers may be triggered here, but the purpose is to form sentences from the words I gather. Eventually I will lean into Sandhi 😊

Day 51

I love exploring the etymology of words, especially Sanskrit words. While watching a movie about a married couple today, my thoughts drifted to Shiva and Parvati, and then a word popped into my mind: पुरुषः. Why is there a visarga? What does it denote? Of course there is something esoteric… one thing led to another and I was reading Tantric notes online, so I knew I had to back off a bit. The research is incomplete for now. But don’t worry, the sentence is simple.

अहं शब्दमूलान्वेषणे बहुवारं निमग्ना भवामि।

I often become absorbed in searching for the origins of words.

Day 52

This evening I have been listening to Shyamameghame by K.J. Yesudas on repeat. Thanks for the suggestion, Hemant ji ✨

I thought about the yakṣa and looked up at the sky. It was already dark. My goal is to read the Meghadūta completely in Sanskrit one day and be lost in thought about it for days. If only daydreaming were a legit hobby!

श्यामः मेघः कुत्र अस्ति, येन मम श्यामं प्रियतमं प्रति सन्देशं प्रेषयामि?

Where is the dark cloud, by which I may send a message to my Dark Beloved?

Day 53

Today an essay here took me back to little Rabia. I have a confession to make: I hate cars. My favourite way to travel has always been my father’s scooter. Every time he stepped out, I would run to go with him. The wind in my hair (helmets weren’t mandatory then), the sights, the markets… ah, take me back. I annoyed him so much 😁

कृपया मां त्वया सह नय।

Please take me with you.

Day 54

Swathi Thirunal’s compositions pull the heart into a beautiful, love-struck longing that somehow feels deeply comforting. And then there is the presence of a sakhi, 24×7, to whom you can lovingly complain about your Beloved 🪷

हे सखी, सः कथं न पश्यति यत् तस्य उपेक्षया अहं विवर्णवदना जाता अस्मि?

Hey friend, how does He not see that I have grown pale-faced because of His neglect?

I didn’t want to use “neglect”; I meant something closer to inattentiveness. But I liked the strength of the complaint, the way you exaggerate things when you’re talking to a friend so she’ll take your side. And I have a feeling He might be her favourite too 🤨

Day 55

I have days when I feel like I’m living outside my own body. I interact with silhouettes instead of people. And I keep wondering what this thing called living really is: why experiences feel hollow at times, and why sometimes they feel whole.

जीवनं किम्? अनुभवानां परम्परा एव।

What is life? Only a series of experiences.

Day 56

A long weekend mostly means a long list of chores for a householder, and I’m not complaining 😊 Maybe I’ll finally finish a book I’ve been sipping slowly for a month.

दीर्घे सप्ताहान्ते बहूनां कार्याणां सूची अस्ति।

On the long weekend, there is a list of many chores.

If you’re a Sanskrit scholar or a fellow student, I’d love to hear which sentence you’d form differently. See you at Day 57 ✨

This morning something happened, Ila. I opened this app before making tea. And you know I don’t do anything before tea. But I was eager to see what you wrote last night. I saw two notes: one about Mrs. Deshpande and her new cassette of Hemant Kumar hits, and one about the rain that made you feel like making pakoras. You had 20 likes under your pakoras note, and the 21st one was mine.

I am still new here, Ila and I don’t understand restacking and I don’t feel comfortable in direct messaging, it is too instant for my liking. Shaikh says restacking is when you find something others have written and you want to show to the world. An old man like me has nothing left to show the world.

Yesterday I saw a man in the train dressed like a goat. He could not see properly with his costume. Kept bumping into everyone. I did not laugh. I thought, I must write a note to Ila. Only after I had written the note in my head did I laugh. Things don't finish happening to me anymore until I have told you.

Last night I went back to your first note from December, there was a spelling mistake in the third line. I read all the rest of your 208 notes again to check for errors. I found none.

Saajan

This is a curation of my notes from the last 28 days of Sanskrit learning, put together for ease of reference. I used AI tools to help pull the notes together into this essay. If you find any issues or fixes, please comment below to help my learning journey. I am forever looking to improve in this language.

Day 1

Thinking of posting one simple sentence in Sanskrit daily as I continue my grammar classes over the next few weeks.

Learning in public may finally break my fear of using the language daily.

And I hope this lands on a Sanskrit scholar’s feed, so they can correct me and I can start following them.

Dear Substack, do your magic! ✨

I think, therefore I am.

अहं चिन्तयामि, तस्मात् अहम् अस्मि।

Day 2

A birthday wish: I wanted to say, “happy birthday,” but also try a classical-style blessing like “may abundance live in you”, the kind of abundance is up to the person 😊

May your birthday be auspicious. May prosperity always dwell in you.

जन्मदिनस्य शुभं भवतु। समृद्धिः त्वयि सदा वसतु ।

Day 3

I am going to temple.

अहं मन्दिरं गच्छामि ।

Day 4

Now this is a question I often get asked, especially when I’ve promised ghee roast or poori masala for breakfast 😁

Is the food ready? Yes, the food is ready.

भोजनं सिद्धं वा? आम्, भोजनं सिद्धम् अस्ति।

Day 5

When we make doodles of people thinking, we draw a tiny cloud above the head, but if you ask me, i don’t feel like my thoughts arise from my head. I feel like they arise from my gut.

Where do my thoughts come from?

मम विचाराः कुतः जायन्ते?

Day 6

I keep noticing this rush in me and in most people at tech these days to grab the next shiny tool and start running.

But why are we not pausing to ask for better engineering, better tools? It was a long day, and I wondered how to say:

I am tired from work

कार्यात् श्रान्तास्मि। (f) कार्यात् श्रान्तोऽस्मि। (m)

Day 7

Inspired by @Swati Thakur’s note today, I wanted to use शनैः शनैः - Gradually 😊

This is hypothetical for today, since desire isn’t going anywhere for me anytime soon. But the desire for a lot of things that never brought me meaning has quietly died out over time.

So, I’m writing this down as a small step towards eventually getting there, manifesting a version of me (in this life or the next) where desires have settled!

Desires gradually subside.

शनैः शनैः इच्छाः शाम्यन्ति।

Day 8

This sentence feels right today.

I bow to thee, Mother!

Vande is an ātmanepada verb, this means the fruit of the action is understood to return to the doer himself, not just extend outward to another.

The charm of Sanskrit ❤️

It reminds me of us, blessed to be born in Bharat. Like Sanskrit, we look simple, live simple, but we are layered in someways.

वन्दे मातरम्।

Day 9

As winter ends and the weather starts warming up here in Australia, this is something I expect to be saying often.

I also wanted to use the word kiñcit, it’s the cutest word ever ❤️

Please drink some water!

किञ्चित् जलं पिबतु।

Day 10

This week is crazy at work. If I wanted to put a status on my Teams with DnD, it would be this.

Lots of work this week.

But is there a better way to form this?

अस्मिन् सप्ताहे बहु कार्यम् अस्ति।

Day 11

I had a teacher who spoke to the class in Sanskrit. Honestly, it was very hard to follow but equally exciting 😁. He used this word a lot 👇🏾

हत्युक्त्वा (having said)

I stumbled upon this word today while reading so thought about him and decided to use it.

Having said “I am going” he left the house.

I was tempted to do sandhi but I am going to go slow for my own sake.

“अहं गच्छामि” इत्युक्त्वा सः गृहात् निरागच्छत्।

Day 12

I don’t particularly entertain crazy work timings, but a global team demands a few sacrifices. The exhaustion is not just physical but mental. The next day, I usually go easy.

Now, rest alone is the best medicine.

अधुना, विश्रामः एव श्रेष्ठम् औषधम् अस्ति।

Day 13

Separation is painful yet it is the most reliable fuel for many writers.

I think of you always. 🪷

अहं त्वां सततं स्मरामि।

Day 14

This life is full of surprises. Some good, most bad, the only way forward is through faith 🪷🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

Therefore, I take refuge in devotion alone.

तस्मात्, भक्तिम् एव आश्रये।

Day 15

Our Onam celebration is often shifted to the nearest weekend so there’s time to cook, enjoy, and gather with the people we love 🌺

We celebrate Onam tomorrow.

I did not choose future tense to keep my focus on present tense for now.

वयं श्वः ओणम् उत्सवम् आचरामः।

Day 16

Today we made ഓണപൂക്കളം (flower carpet) with flowers from my friend’s garden as well as mine. It is a simple activity but makes one feel grounded immediately. And flowers, they always make me happy 🌼🌺🪷.

Seeing these flowers, I am happy.

एतानि पुष्पाणि दृष्ट्वा अहं प्रसन्ना अस्मि।

Day 17

Every afternoon he arrives, a beautiful Willie Wagtail, steps into the water bowl I have kept for my guests in the yard, bathes, and rests on the cloth line.

Today a new guest came to the bowl. He chased him off and quietly slipped back into the bowl again rinsing away the mischief he just made 😁 So here is a little reminder to my jealous patron.

O friend! You share the water bowl.

हे मित्र! त्वं जलपात्रं संविभज।

Day 18

Separation fascinates me. Someone appears in your life each day, then suddenly they are gone, and a strange unease takes over. It absorbs you quietly; even in the middle of other tasks, the absence keeps touching you. I often think of the gopis in that brief moment when Krishna vanished, how even their sorrow must have carried a beautifully aching stillness.

O Madhava, this separation is beautiful 🪷

हे माधव, अयं वियोगः सुन्दरः अस्ति।

Day 19

I did not form this sentence; I borrowed a part of BG 5.8. A reminder that I am not the doer 🪷

I carry this verse within me, not as a thought but as posture. It settles the noise inside and loosens the ego’s grip on my spine 🙏🏽

I do not do anything at all.

नैव किञ्चित् करोमि।

Day 20

Who am I?

I’ve used Ramana’s (my mānasa‑guru) affirmation for many years.

देहं नाहम्। कोऽहम्? सोऽहम्।

Yet I still cannot comprehend the last part, and my answer remains the same.

I do not know myself!

अहं स्वं न जानामि।

Day 21

Most days I have to search for something to reflect on to form my sentences. Today was easy with Raksha Bandhan wishes everywhere. When life slips into the same patterns, these festivals nudge the soul awake, asking us to feel life a little differently, even if only for a day.

A quick shout‑out to my grammar teacher for helping me with this sentence 🥳

Heartfelt Raksha Bandhan wishes to all!

सर्वेभ्यः रक्षाबन्धनदिनस्य हार्दाः शुभाशयाः।

Day 22

I don’t need to reflect more on this. I always like to choose simple ❤️✨

Simplicity alone is the beauty of life.

सरलता एव जीवनस्य सौन्दर्यम्।

Day 23

The Australian sky feels closer than the one I grew up under in India. Bhooma and I used to spend our Mondays out in the backyard. Open sky, distant trees, and birds he loved to chase, while I scolded him for being mean to them. And today I felt like just being outdoors like before.

By the wind, the clouds move fast and my flowers dance.

वातेन मेघाः शीघ्रं प्लवन्ते मम कुसुमानि च नृत्यन्ति।

Day 24

Today I wrote an article about a rainbow 🌈 and naturally I wanted to write something about it.

This one was especially challenging as someone who skipped through most of the vibhakti tables in her diploma 😁 so if you have suggestions, you are more than welcome to correct me 🙏🏽

Rainbows are magical circles drawn by God.

इन्द्रधनूंषि ईश्वरेण आलिखितानि मायिकानि वृत्तानि सन्ति।

Day 25

Some days gratitude feels effortless. Even when life pulls your mind elsewhere, there are moments when the sense of having enough returns on its own. Today is one of those days ✨

Today I am grateful

अहम् अद्य कृतज्ञा अस्मि।

Day 26

When a drama unfolds in front of you, excluding you or your people, you naturally become a mere witness. That’s what the word उपद्रष्टा means, the one who sees from close range, fully present, observing but not directly participating.

I wanted to use this word today after reading it in the scriptures. A reminder that we often live inside the misery we create ourselves; the Lord who is the supreme witness has also given each of us the ability to have this clarity.

I am the witness of everything.

अहं सर्वस्य उपद्रष्ट्री अस्मि। (f) / अहं सर्वस्य उपद्रष्टा अस्मि। (m)

Day 27

Today was another left-brained day. During my breaks, I kept glancing at the water bowl, wondering when the little bird will come for its bath. I didn’t see him today. I just hope he returns tomorrow 🐥

i wish for your return.

अहं तव पुनरागमनम् इच्छामि।

Day 28

Day 28: Today I am breaking the pattern a little for a special poem I wish to share as an offering 🪷. Posting this is an act of bravery as a Sanskrit student 😊

I wrote this poem earlier this year, but I had to go back and correct it many times. It’s still not perfect, but today I felt like releasing it. I will keep on trying, to get better at this 🤜🏽🤛🏽

हरिभक्तिः

केवलं भक्तिम् इच्छामि हरिभक्तिं दिनं प्रति । एतां भक्तिम् एव आश्रये हरिभक्तिं पुनः पुनः ॥

लक्ष्मी धनं दत्त्वैव स्वयं भक्तिं बिभर्ति ताम् । रुद्रोऽपि मे हितं कुर्यात् मा हर हरिभक्तिं मम ॥

मोक्षात् श्रेष्ठतरम् एव मम हरिभक्तिः सदा । तस्मात् भक्तिम् एव आश्रये हरिभक्तिं पुनः पुनः ॥

P.S I tried to write in Anushtubh meter.

Watch this space for more in this series.

Then one morning it did. The dictionary wasn’t wrong. I just had to experience the word.

A slightly cold March morning in Brisbane. I took Bhuma out for our 5 o’clock walk, yes, the small ritual-torture I inflict on my body for my fur-boy’s sake. Never regretted it once. We once trekked through a reserve for almost 3 hours because I got lost and he found the way out before I did. Australia makes this easy. Bushland spills into reserve, reserve opens into park, and every suburb has a bike path running straight through the middle of things. Neat and tidy but still wild. You may see a python on a tree or kangaroos staring at you from a bush, yet you will never feel threatened.

That morning was nothing special, Bhuma did what Bhuma does. Nose down, reading and replying to his pee-mails. By 5:30 we were at the top of the oval, a raised patch of lawn for sports, maintained by the council. Grass still wet. Air sitting in that narrow gap between cold and warm. And then the sun broke through the mist, and there was a rainbow in front of me. Not a faint one. A full arc, and just above it, softer but definitely there, a second. A double rainbow. My luck!

I stood there for a full minute with my mouth actually open.

Bhuma stood there, staring at my face, visibly anxious about why the playtime was interrupted (classic Border Collie). Somewhere in that moment I took a photo, and it caught none of it. Not the size of the thing. Not what it was doing to my chest.

Because something was happening to my chest. Wonder? Fear? Though there was nothing to be afraid of. Or disbelief? But about what? Then, with no warning, a huge burst of happiness led to a stream of tears running down my face. There was nothing to be sad or happy about, but there was this feeling of having stepped into something larger without meaning to.

This is the point where my thoughts shifted to Arjuna on the battlefield when he saw Lord Krishna in His cosmic form. A point where vastness stops being a concept and becomes a sight. Arjuna, the brave warrior shaking, unable to hold it together asking the Lord to return to the human, gentler form again. The real scale of things as seen by Arjuna, isn’t something a human can hold for long.

I am not going to put “a rainbow over a suburban oval on a Tuesday” in the same sentence as the scene from the Gita. But to be honest, for one minute my mind did what Arjuna’s did, at a much smaller scale. I saw something too large to comfortably contain. And I was no warrior but a regular woman, just 5 foot tall.

So that’s the closest I have come to what that word means to me, an expanse, where the known and the unknown stand together and a moment when I couldn’t have told you where I ended and the sky began.

Bhuma completely missed the rainbow; he was only looking at me, waiting to hear the words he’d been wanting all along -” Let’s play!” That struck something in me. Maybe that rainbow in that sky existed only for me. To teach me about a word. Not because I was special but because I was for a moment aligned in an unrepeatable way in that exact moment to receive something.

Ākāśa opens up to anyone as long as you’re willing to stand still enough not to notice you’re standing in it.

“Why learn Sanskrit now?”

I have been asked many versions of this question, often enough to know the concern is not really about me learning the language, but about what I will do with it. It is a question that wants a price on my pursuits. So here is the invoice 😃.

I have been reading books on Indian philosophy and the Puranas in translation for some time now. Sanskrit is what showed me how much of them I had never actually read.

You don’t miss what you never knew was there.

Where I got stuck

My interest in Vedanta started as plain curiosity. I love analysing myself, my changing identities, the people around me, and so on. And I found this concept of a “single source of truth”, unlike my own personality, quite fascinating.

I read some books; I joined an online class for Vedanta; and then I ran into the problem. When I was in the class (for four weeks), I was as bright as the Sun. I understood concepts naturally, until I was left alone to contemplate these texts. I could read Devanagari, so I read shlokas, but the translations, helpful as they were, were just giving me readymade conclusions on a platter.

I come from a Christian family, so I don’t have the necessary tools, teachers, context etc., to help me get started, or any guidance on how to approach a text from the Hindu philosophy called Advaita Vedanta. What I didn’t know at that time was that the absence of the Guru was itself a lesson about the tradition I was trying to grasp. Those texts were never meant to be a PDF in my OneDrive. They were part of a whole, the other part being a teacher, a Guru.

I still pushed through the recorded lectures, the group classes and the books. Most of the time I understood enough to keep going. But every now and then I could feel gaps in my understanding widening. Like something important sliding past me.

The problem

One example of that confusion started from the opening prayer itself in the group class.

oṃ pūrṇamadaḥ pūrṇamidaṃ pūrṇāt…1

Translated as: Om. Wholeness is That, Wholeness is This. From the Whole, the Whole comes forth. Removing the Whole from the Whole, the Whole remains. Om, peace, peace, peace.

At first that’s exactly how I internalised it. Two similar statements placed side by side for emphasis. But a question kept coming back to me. Why does “that” come before “this”? If everything is full, why spell out things, this or that? I nearly let it go. I told myself maybe this was beyond me. I needed a way to meet these shlokas closer to their own terms.

I eventually understood what I needed when I started learning pronouns in Sanskrit class. In Sanskrit, idam and adaḥ are not just “this” or “that” as in English. There is a whole set of “this”es and “that”s (demonstrative pronouns):

idam — this, what is here, present, near enough to point at.

etad — this, what is just in front of you.

tad — that, what has already been spoken of, or what isn’t present.

adaḥ — that, what is far off, distant, beyond immediate reach.

The mantra is using these pronouns on purpose. It begins from what cannot be pointed to, and only then arrives at what can. Adaḥ, then Idam.

The next clause - "From the Whole, the Whole comes forth”, is ablative, so I read it as Source producing Product, using my demonstrative pronouns and their order. Fine that works. Then I was destroyed in the very next line: “Removing the Whole from the Whole, the Whole remains."

My misunderstanding of source and product (from the order Adaḥ, then Idam) is now taken apart with this line. Nothing is diminished, “the Whole remains”.

This internal dialog was completely missing earlier with this or that plainly, although the gist was there in English too. Sankrit grammar made me commit to it. This entire process of applying grammar transformed the mantra from a statement to a movement in my head, an abhyasa.

Order, Creation, Subtraction, Realisation.

This is one such example.

Translation chooses for the reader

I want to be grateful to the translations, don’t get me wrong here. It is essential. Without it most of us would never even encounter such texts. What it misses is giving the reader a choice. It is usually translated for “all”. When a Guru teaches a student, he understands from the face of the student whether a door has opened for her or not, which is one thing the translator is unaware of.

When I read a Malayalam story, my eyes smile a little wider than when I read it translated because I go into a part of my mind with mallu context and experiences. You know that feeling someone calls you yaar, and it feels warmer than “hey, friend”? That was what I was looking for. The closeness to the words, so they can argue with me in my head.

I don’t have a Guru, maybe I have not earned one in this life, but Sanskrit gives me the next best thing. A push back from the text itself.

So why Sanskrit?

Because I simply don’t want to let another profound revelation slide past me without me noticing that it even existed.

I have never had this. And it’s not for lack of trying, or lack of announcing my love for birds, trees and animals, still, nothing. Bread for the noisy miners, bread for the crows, who show up like they’ve got daily stand ups, while the one bird I actually want to meet, acts like my offering is beneath its notice.

Very rarely though they’d turn up at the pool for a bath, but I can’t tell if they are the same ones. And every time, I’d get so genuinely thrilled watching it happen, so unable to play it cool, that they’d take one look at me hovering near the deck and just go. Poooof... Gone. Because who wants to bathe in peace with a psycho woman staring at you like you’re the last miracle on earth.

But one day I was woken up from my nap by a strange frantic splashing noise in the pool and something in me just clicked. I can sense things before they happen, apparently; my husband calls me “Iyer the Great” for a reason, and if you know the movie, you know exactly what kind of unearned confidence that implies.

As I ran to the pool, I saw something thrashing, fighting the water, fighting for its life, which, I realised as I got closer was a kookaburra! My heart left my body. And the worst part is that I’m a shallow-water swimmer (I just came up with this phrase because I was too ashamed to admit I can’t swim). I could not do what they do in the movies, dive in, scoop the poor thing up, hero BGM playing. That option simply wasn’t available to me.

So, I went looking for the pool net instead. The one my husband uses most Saturday mornings to pretend he needs quiet time away from me, standing at the pool’s edge looking deeply, creatively occupied, scooping dried leaves like it’s a lost art.

I scooped the poor bird in, slowly, bravely, and set him down on the deck. He was shivering, and clearly still scared of the net and of me. I couldn’t calm myself down, honestly. I wanted so badly to help but had no idea what “helping” even looked like.

I got some towels and gently tried to lift him out of the net into my palms. He fought it, of course, no surprise there. The psycho woman and a human hand. Who can be trusted, really? But I prayed, asked the Gods to tell him he was safe. I talked to him in baby voice just so that I’m less threatening. He protested a bit more, with his beak, but his shivering won in the end, and he let himself come into my hands.

That moment of trust undid me a little. I felt the guilt of it as a human, the collective failure, all the ways we fail these little lives without even noticing. But I didn’t let the thought stay long. I pushed it gently aside and chose, instead, to just feel grateful. Grateful to be trusted. Grateful to be, for one small hour, someone a little vulnerable bird could trust.

When his shivering eased, I placed him somewhere with a lot of sunlight in my backyard and left him to it. I called a friend, then the wild life rescue folks, and both said the same thing that he’d be fine once his wings dried out.

Later, I noticed he’d moved himself into the shade. I went to check, he looked calmer, steadier like he knew I’m harmless and that we were in this together. An hour after that, he was up on the fence, a little plumper, a little more himself. An hour after that, he flew away.

Next day, I waited and he came around mid-day. I’d like to think it’s him.

He didn’t give me the cackling laugh he’s famous for, the dramatic entrance I’d hoped for, thanks to my mom’s theatric genes. Instead, he simply sat near the pool, quiet, calm like he’d learned something. Or may be like he’d made a friend.

He didn’t come daily after that. He never became one of those birds, the backyard regulars’ kind. But some days, I see one, and I imagine it’s him. I’ll never really know. And each time, I think of that one strange day we shared, and I smile a little, hoping that somewhere in the bird world, word has gotten around. That I’m to be trusted. That somewhere, a kookaburra has gathered with my bread eating crows and miners, to tell the magpies to go easy on me during swooping season.

This isn’t a straightforward “Set up your Mac” guide, and it isn’t a philosophical dissection of anything either. It sits somewhere in between, just like me. I love tech, and I love to observe, to be slow with things in this fast-moving world. I am trying to find joy in the most boring things life can present me.

So here we are with a boring task, trying to have fun with it.

Before anything is installed, the screen is just the usual mac “Tahoe day” wallpaper. No files, no history, no cookies, no cache, no version of me I left lying around in folders I named “misc” or “untitled.” No sign of the 1001 different project ideas I have been procrastinating on.

It’s tempting to fill that space as fast as possible, the way we do with iPhones: sign in, sync everything from the cloud, get back to your old self in a few minutes.

I decided to resist that, just this once.

A tool shapes the hands that use it. You already know this about a kitchen, or a garden. Somehow, we forget it about the machine we spend more waking hours inside than almost anywhere else. So, this isn’t really a setup guide. It’s an invitation to set up slowly enough to notice what you’re choosing, and why.

The ground

I signed in but skipped the sync and started this one empty. Then, since I prefer dark mode, I went to System Settings → Appearance → Dark Mode (Auto). Comfort first.

I installed Microsoft Edge, my favourite browser believe it or not 😁.

Then I needed the infrastructure to install everything else and for me, that’s Homebrew. I opened the terminal and installed it first:

/bin/bash -c "$(curl -fsSL https://raw.githubusercontent.com/Homebrew/install/HEAD/install.sh)"

The terminal is where I live as a developer for my job, and I wanted it to be more than just what my machine gives me by default. I installed iTerm2, a font, and a few tools so the space I live in feels cozy:

brew install --cask iterm2
brew install --cask font-jetbrains-mono-nerd-font
brew install zsh starship eza bat fzf zoxide fd ripgrep git gh git-delta 

Then I created my ~/.zshrc file inside my Home folder and opened it.

touch ~/.zshrc
open -e ~/.zshrc

Added these lines (tab-completion setup first, then prompt/tool init) and saved:

# Tab completion
autoload -Uz compinit
compinit
zstyle ':completion:*' matcher-list 'm:{a-zA-Z}={A-Za-z}'   # case-insensitive matching
zstyle ':completion:*' menu select                            # arrow-key navigation through matches
zstyle ':completion:*' list-colors "${(s.:.)LS_COLORS}"       # colored completion menu

# Prompt + tools
eval "$(starship init zsh)"
eval "$(zoxide init zsh)"
alias ls="eza --icons"
alias cat="bat"

Then, in iTerm2’s settings: Profiles → Colors → Solarized under Color Presets, and Appearance → Minimal theme.

Final look of my terminal 👩🏽‍💻:

The workspace

Next, I needed to set up a few things for my work that involves Node but many versions of it. So I installed it through through nvm (node version manager).

brew install nvm
mkdir ~/.nvm

Added below to .zshrc file:

export NVM_DIR="$HOME/.nvm"
[ -s "/opt/homebrew/opt/nvm/nvm.sh" ] && \. "/opt/homebrew/opt/nvm/nvm.sh"
[ -s "/opt/homebrew/opt/nvm/etc/bash_completion.d/nvm" ] && \. "/opt/homebrew/opt/nvm/etc/bash_completion.d/nvm"

Then reloaded the termnial and installed latest Node:

source ~/.zshrc
nvm install node      # installs latest
nvm alias default node
node -v

Next, I installed Python, for MkDocs / GitHub Pages workflow: for my work related to courses creation, my tech blogs etc.

brew install python@3.12 pyenv uv

Then I carefully installed my editor of choice for code, good old VS Code

brew install --cask visual-studio-code

To set it up, I chose Solarized theme, the Material Icon set, the same Nerd Font from your terminal, to be consistent with my terminal (Edit the settings.json)

{
    "workbench.colorTheme": "Solarized Dark",
    "workbench.iconTheme": "material-icon-theme",
    "git.autofetch": true,
    "editor.fontLigatures": false,
    "editor.fontFamily": "JetBrainsMono Nerd Font",
}

Final look of my editor 📝:

The shelf

Somewhere for the thinking, like new blog ideas, articles for Substack, side projects, and everything in between, I chose to install Obsidian. The Minimal theme, and a folder structure with room to grow rather than one I’ll outgrow by September:

brew install --cask obsidian

My initial set up of folders looks like this, I hope it stays clean for sometime.

And by that, I came to the end of my minimal setup and I felt happy, genuinely happy, with it. It turned out exactly as I wanted it to.

I won't remember most of what I did to set this up by next week, which is why I documented it. But I know I'll feel it, every time I open the lid to work on something.

My mission was to find something distracting yet productive instead of doom scrolling through my photos app to look at Bhooma and cry all day. And I heard there was a retreat at our ashram for adults on that day. I decided to go. The retreat was to learn and discuss about Sadhana Panchakam, a beautiful work by Adi Sankaracharya, a fellow Mallu, which honestly makes me disproportionately happy inside. Of course, if a living, breathing Acharya caught me feeling this pleased about “regional pride”, he’d probably just quote the man himself back at me:

deśakālaviṣayātivarti yad brahma tattvamasi bhāvayātmani

(Vivekachudamani v:254 second part), translated as - That you are the Brahman transcending space, time, and sense-object; meditate on this.

Message seen ✔️✔️, Acharya. I’ll go back to transcending my ego now, right after this one small moment of Mallu pride.

The retreat was such an amazing way to spend Bhooma’s birthday. It gave me so many lessons to learn and apply in life, but a story on surrender became the most important takeaway for me.

This story is about Tapovana Maharaj, a Hindu saint and Vedanta scholar, still admired and loved by many Vedantins. Did I mention he’s another Mallu? Okay, at this point I’m just flexing.

Now, the story - Tapovan Maharaj decided to undertake a Kailash yatra. It’s an incredibly difficult journey, and along the way, he ran out of food and water. Exhausted, he was caught in the rain. Yet through all of it, his faith in the Lord was strong and his surrender was just beautiful to witness, even generations later.

As he lay down, unable to go on, the thought that arose in him wasn’t - “Will God save me?” but “How will God come to save me?” Such an innocent, honest form of surrender! I still get goosebumps thinking about it. He was so sure of help coming to him but just curious in what form or through whom.

Maharaj ji was eventually found and cared for by robbers, who had come to rob him. That’s how the story ends. But what stayed with me wasn’t the ending. It was the form of his surrender.

That single shift made me question myself - how arrogant I actually am in my own moments of misery, convinced I’m all alone, even while I keep saying the words I surrender to God or I surrender to the universe. I say the words, but I still worry. My only emotion in those moments should be curiosity, like Maharaj ji’s, not worry.

Surrender is not asking “will I be saved,” but wondering “how beautifully will I be saved.”

Now, what do curry leaves have to do with any of this? Okay, let’s get to that. That same weekend, my stash of curry leaves also ran out. It’s not very common to find curry leaves in regular stores here in Australia, and while I’ve had a curry leaf tree in the past, I don’t have one now. My stash always comes from friends who generously bring them to me from their own trees when I ask. So, this week, when my stash ran out, I simply did nothing. I left my curry leaves dealers completely in the dark. And just like that, a friend showed up with a big bag of curry leaves, the same evening!

I smiled inside, thinking - did I just pass one small test? Not worrying about something I don’t have, but might need later (and oh yes, we use a lot of curry leaves in our food). And I smiled at the Lord too, thinking, if He can tend to something as trivial as curry leaves, how much bigger and better must His plan be for when my whole world crumbles before me.

So really, the theory on July 4th and the practical on the 5th taught me that

surrender isn’t a one-time declaration I make and then forget.

It’s a daily, sometimes hourly, choice to trade worry for curiosity. Curry leaves today, something far bigger tomorrow.

Yet it is only irony that the same species which uncovered this truth, carried it through every era, and handed it faithfully to the next generation has never truly internalised it. And when grief arrives, most of us simply and massively fail.

Anticipatory grief..

Grief, I have learned, does not always wait for loss. And to grieve before the real loss is suffering in its most merciless form.

I grieved my fur best friend across seven months of chemotherapy, holding hope and sorrow in the same hands, watching him fall in and out of life of quality, while I stood by, helpless until one day he left.

Somewhere along three years of layoffs in tech industry, I find myself grieving in meetings and inboxes for a job not yet lost.

I now grieve the way my loved one with terminal illness calls my name, because I already know the shape of their absence. I am grieving someone who is still alive and that, I have learned, is its own kind of death

… And what I learned from it

Every setback has been, in its own reluctant way, a teacher.

The suffering from watching my dog through seven months of treatment carved patience into me, a patience I did not know I was capable of. It taught me selflessness, servitude, and how to recognise love in forms I was not aware of before.

The fear of layoff did something unexpected too, it loosened the grasp of my job and its hold on me. I still give my work the best I have, but I realised I am more than my job title. A Sanskrit diploma, Advaita Vedanta, this writing, they all came from the part of me that needed to remember who I was beyond my job.

But it is the grief I am living now that has changed me most profoundly. Every moment with the one I am losing feels weighted with meaning. I am more present, more deliberate, more willing to diminish my ego. To love without condition, to give without reserve. I see in them a calm that humbles me. I see an acceptance of fate that has quietly become gratitude for the life they were given. And in their smile, in the way they meet each moment without resistance and with beauty, I am learning to let go. To surrender.

Grief is real and I do not deny it but I am determined to observe it, to let it burn through what is unnecessary in me and leave something stronger behind.

An AI model works by predicting the statistically next best word to write and respond to you. When it lacks grounding information, that prediction can drift away from the truth (grounding information). This is hallucination in a nutshell.

Hallucination has become a common term in the world of AI, but the concept has always existed in human behaviour too.

Think of the time you only half-knew something but were asked about it anyway. You fumbled, then filled the gaps with invented details to complete the half-remembered story. That was your ego working hard to hold on to the “expert-on-this-topic badge.” This is the human version of hallucination.

You panicked at the follow-up question, edited the answer five times after hitting send, and lost sleep over having to justify yourself if your answer turned out to be factually incorrect. You knew perfectly well that your hallucination won’t be forgiven as easily as an AI model’s.

This is your opportunity to switch from reactive mode to responsive mode.

In such situations, you have two good options - respond later, after verifying the facts, or, if the question needs urgent acknowledgement, simply say: "Thank you for your patience while I gather the information needed to give you a complete answer." Honestly, the clarity and peace of mind this approach brought me is worth far more than any “expert badge”.

We all have enough burdens on our shoulders. Let's try not to add any more. After all, truth is the lightest thing to carry! It took watching an AI struggle with honesty to remind me of that.

If this helped, you know where to find me @ iknowthisfeeling.com . This world doesn't get easier - but we get wiser. Until next time. ☺️

When I first moved into the home near this tree, there were a few things that instantly made me fall in love, one of them was this tall gum tree that stood proudly just across the road from my house. Its shiny grey bark and its divine presence, patiently giving up its branches to the noisy Australian birds, all made me fall in love with it. We formed an unspoken bond instantly, one that takes years to form between humans.

However earlier in 2023, almost two years since our move, we received a letter from the council regarding a road expansion project. My heart sank instantly as I somehow sensed it could mean that they were cutting all the trees. Months passed by, and my husband and son reassured me that nothing might happen, that they might not go through with the expansion after all. While this brought me some relief, I remained sceptical whenever I spotted trucks or construction workers near my house.

Then, in a month, it all began. The construction work started, and they tied ribbons on the trees, green and pink. My tree was given a pink ribbon, a sign of its upcoming ill fate. Just as my intuition had warned, they started cutting down all the trees tied with pink ribbons.

Deep in my heart I knew it was time to say farewell. One weekend, I took a walk to my tree and said goodbye. I took a photo of it standing tall, gazing down upon me with what seemed like a sense of fulfilment. Perhaps it had been waiting all these years for this moment, to transition from being a tree to something more.

The following week it happened. They cut my tree, and it fell with a thud. The fall echoed both outside and inside my being ( I still have the video I took). I cried like I lost someone close, but I was more prepared on that day than I had been earlier in the year. I’ve grown accustomed to grief in recent months. In my head, it’s not gone but evolved, like all the souls who have departed from my life.

Sometimes I wonder whether my tree was cut down to test my strength, to see if I could weather the trial of letting go with grace which in two years I was to be tested again harshly, with my pet’s passing. Life has its own peculiar ways of teaching lessons, and I know this better now and I surrender to the teacher.

Adios amigo! Until we meet again, my friend.

I’ve experienced a lot of changes within me in recent years. My 20-year-old self would hardly recognise the person I am today. She might laugh at how my thoughts go, make very ‘intelligent’ arguments against my ideologies and even post on Instagram how weird I am. But both versions of myself are not wrong based on my respective phases of life.

What confuses me is, I’m unsure what people mean when they tell me to “be myself”, “be authentic”. I naturally absorb the behaviours and mannerisms of those around me. I “code-switch” though I’ve been doing this long before it had a name. I have different handwriting depending on my mood and what I’m writing. It might seem odd, but all of this is also me. My taste in music ranges from Dr. M.BalamuraliKrishna to Crosby, Stills & Nash. And then there are days I would only listen to “Tere Dar Par Sanam” by Kumar Sanu on repeat.

In many ways, I am a product of the people I interact with, the books I read, the music I listen to, the experiences, the places I live in and my whole state of mind at that time.

My current belief is that, as ephemeral as this body is, so is the illusion of who I am. This thought frees me from having to be one fixed thing. I’d rather keep becoming newer, better versions of myself and I will keep exploring that becoming.