Prose Before Sleep #7

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Life is too short to be pretentious. Since birth, each one of us carries different pulses and qualities, a way of seeing the world that no one else can. Of course, there are things and skills we learn while growing up, but deep down, what we choose, how far we go, and how deeply we enjoy it all comes down to that individuality. That individuality is the most gracious gift given to us, yet the world often pushes us away from it. A conflict begins when societal conditioning and borrowed measures push us to become someone else. Better to fit in, better to behave like everyone else. We try to adapt, we try to blend, and somewhere in that trying, we drift closer to everyone else and farther from ourselves. Miles we reach, yet the true self remains far behind.


A quiet truth persists: even when we say everyone is different, the difference lies not merely in appearances but in something intrinsic—an invisible architecture within our minds. Each one of us holds a unique constellation of abilities, drives, instincts, and rhythms. All these qualities define us and make us unique. Yet living up to the highest potential and honoring these gifts still remains an overarching phenomenon.


True ecology lies in embracing what is inherent, not in dissolving ourselves into a larger crowd. The gust of cold wind might appear the same to everyone, but it hits each one of us differently, and when we realise this, we stop expecting others to think, act, or respond as we do when a storm arrives. It is here that Jiddu Krishnamurti’s words resonate with complete clarity: “It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society.” And perhaps this is where a quiet rebellion begins—by refusing to shrink ourselves, by not abandoning who we are to fit into systems. We honour the small ways in which we differ, we protect our unique perceptions, and we nurture the spaces inside us that society overlooks. In these gentle recognitions, we understand that individuality is not isolation but a deeper belonging, a fibre that keeps us human. Ultimately, that acceptance is what makes society more harmonious, more mature, and more directed toward a larger purpose.

~ Chandan

Prose Before Sleep #6

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We meet people of all kinds on a daily basis — different ages, genders, thoughts, and beliefs. Everyone carries a distinct lens through which they see this world. When two people look at the same event, their descriptions rarely align, yet both feel equally valid. That’s the beauty and the paradox of our understanding. There is always a second possibility, always a second opinion, to be heard. We get stuck when we become rigid and start concluding which one is correct.

That’s where we go against the very idea that ‘everyone is different.’ It sounds simple, even poetic, but in truth, most difficult to digest. Our conflicts and frictions arise from our failure to truly accept and inherit it. And in that failure, we default to labeling and boxing people. We insist on categorizing what’s best, who’s right – not in the absolute terms, but just whose version fits the frame of our logic. Always trying to paint and see people with the same colour, then taking pride in those associations. Somewhere in the process, we lose the wonder of coexistence.

It’s tough to see the lack of motivation around us — not because people lack potential, but because we’ve been conditioned to wait for some sign, some luck, before moving. The moment we grow familiar with the realities and our past events of evolution, survival, genocides, and existential crises — both ancient and recent — it redirects our thought process entirely. It might sound like an exaggeration, but the moment we realize that this life — short and finite — is the only real stage we have, a shift begins. That’s when our “second life” starts, the one lived with awareness and virtue.

Days are flying, and each passing day subtracts from the limited time we have on this earth. Our true greatness isn’t about piling up more; it’s about making our finite days meaningful and thoughtful. It’s not about starting everything at once, but finishing what matters. The ‘road less travelled’ may seem tough, restless, even impractical, but that’s where we begin to understand our depth.

It takes courage to pause, to reflect, to see beyond our daily routines, and to measure life not in achievements but in awakenings and evolutions. Because when we stop chasing and start reflecting, we start belonging to this universe more deeply.

~ Chandan

Prose Before Sleep #5

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There is a different kind of alignment in being detached and accumulated at once — a strange paradox. A desire and biased thought to own it all — about life, about money, about things. That’s where the concept of passive activism happens — the more I add, the more I lose internally. The more I carry, the more my shoulders start to hurt. The more theories I keep in mind, the more everything becomes entangled.


Oppositely, if I stay lean and light, I move quickly and freely — always too easy to pivot, to explore, and to measure my own boundary conditions.
Over the years and decades, I acquire all these attachments, objects, and belongings. Yet they also start owning a piece of me. If I’m not thoughtful, they dictate my direction silently. A significant point of clarity comes when I realize how much I’ve accumulated — not just physically, but mentally — and how heavy my inner self has become.
The idea of minimalism strikes there; it’s not about seeing myself deprived of essentials but about realizing true liberation — subtracting the unnecessary to make room for meaning. The purpose is somewhere in being zero, in returning, in enjoying all those little things in the journey and appreciating them. Not waiting for the euphoric moment during the process of accumulation, but breaking the assumption that certain accumulation will bring certain happiness.


Because happiness isn’t born from what I own, but from what I can let go of. It’s not in possessing more, but in feeling enough — a state that can’t be traded, displayed, or adulterated. The more I accumulate, the less I notice the subtleties of life — the air on a quiet evening, the pause before dawn, the star gazing on a cleaner night, and the laughter that wasn’t planned.


And when I finally learn to walk lighter, I start hearing the world whisper again — not through noise, but through presence. I begin to see that every ending isn’t a loss, but a release. Somewhere between having less and being more, life sheds its chaos and deepens the meaning of being me — nothing I let go of was ever truly mine, except the peace that followed.

~ Chandan

Prose Before Sleep #4

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It’s easy to become part of a herd and associate your identity with that — an identity neither earned nor created, just received at one’s disposal. We walk along familiar footsteps, believing they lead somewhere meaningful, when in truth they only loop back to where every dream begins to look alike. It’s comfortable to follow, to blend, to get painted with the same color and exist within the accepted blueprint, but it takes courage and an upright spine to step aside and stand tall. Knowing oneself demands patience — and discomfort — for it asks you to pause where the world keeps rushing and flowing. The flow is tempting, yet holding it for a moment builds pressure; often enough to force you to surrender, to let it carry you as usual. And suddenly, you find yourself in a game not chosen by you, where neither your expertise nor your interest lies, but where expectations to excel run high. You throw your hands, your legs, your voice — doing everything you can — yet you realize you haven’t moved an inch. The game promises belonging, but belonging without understanding is just another form of absence.

Then a great dichotomy unfolds — for society, it all appears lavish and fulfilled, but for you, it feels like absence and hollowness. And like many before, the character of you loses the game, while the game of society wins. Isn’t it thoughtful, then, that we were never meant to spend this priceless life tracing someone else’s design? When we speak of the search for meaning, what truly is that? Nothing arrives neatly wrapped; there are no final answers. Yet there’s always a faint knowing and an urge to evolve. I recall a quote: “Everything that is countable in life does not count.” Perhaps that’s why we keep measuring the wrong things and labeling each other by those standards.

But what about the quiet progress, the unseen transformations, the delta you create each day? The happiness that doesn’t arise from achievement but from alignment, the empowerment that shines when imitation is left behind and purity is perceived. The schedule of society leaves no space for stillness and kinks. The world tells you to chase, but sometimes walking slower reveals the direction that running hides. In the end, what truly matters is whether you dared to see beyond everything around you — with new perspective and openness, to defy yourself by being yourself, untouched by the noise, unshaped by insignificance.

~ Chandan

Prose Before Sleep #3

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One amazing thought which I started carrying a while ago—hard to recollect exactly, or maybe my own distorted theory. I always feel that we all have limited packets of energy given to us to spend each day, and more often than not the untrained mind is not able to fathom the importance of these packets. That’s the reason vitality is spent on trivial and tiny affairs.

A second thought and belief is also that the count of these packets and their efficacy can always be increased. Surely, it requires contemplation, awareness, and good practices. In fact, this possibility itself gives a sense of hope—that our capacity is never fixed but expandable. Collectively, it makes my theory beautiful and somewhat counter-intuitive: it is limited, hence it should be spent with focus and mindfulness; it is expandable, hence it demands a constant focus on the best practices and acts.

The theory, the execution, and the outcome all nurture and get manifested in the mind, and much later—they are revealed to the world. Sometimes it brings claps, and sometimes criticism. Both are required and good in their own way. For me, this is where the mystery of the mind deepens—it silently shapes reality long before the world notices.

You all might agree as well: it’s the mind which decides whether you are winning or losing, whether you are finished or still in the game, whether it is the dead end or the beginning of a new realm. Yes, there is an important aspect about resources and other things which are needed, but I always find those too small and insignificant when the conversation is about the mind.

And isn’t that exactly what we have always referred to in the stories of our heroes and warriors who carried society ahead in every aspect—culture, intellect, power, literature, art, and more? To an outside spectator, those fairy tales might seem serene and peaceful, but from within they were always destructive and aggressive for the sake of greater causes.

Now it leads me to a hypothetical situation: what once used to seem unachievable becomes your daily business. How far will your thinking horizon last? How open will you be to possibilities, to exploring up to the breaking extent? That is where a justice will be given to you by yourself — A justice not demanded or asked, but earned and achieved.

At that time, nothing will look more beautiful than seeing your mind take on challenges that once felt far bigger than you.

~ Chandan

Prose Before Sleep #2

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I often think that we all are trying to find the alchemist in one way or another—sometimes while retrospecting on the past, or sometimes while hoping for the future. But there is a counterintuitive belief: was it not always around us?—perhaps in that first sip of tea you had in the mountains, or when you traveled to distant rivers, or maybe just when you went into a state of trance while doing the activity you always loved.

But one thing is certain—the alchemist keeps his/her habitat far away from civilization, not because he is destined to be alone, but because the filth all around may disturb his sanctity. His power lies in the transience and flow, not in boundaries or limitations.

And this is where it strikes me the most – each one of us always gets tempted by greater causes and paths. We are always enticed to be part of a community, keeping the fire alive, but usually get afraid of all that needs to be done for it. That fear keeps scaling, fixing our boundaries tighter and tighter, until we eventually settle for something too small compared to the potential we are blessed with.

Finally all this persuades us to search for external substitutes and support, making us more distant and causing us to forget the alchemist who has always been within.

~ Chandan

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