(Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi—an ex Naval Officer, possesses a multifaceted personality. He served as a Senior Advisor in prestigious Supercomputer organisation C-DAC, Pune. He was involved in various Artificial Intelligence and High-Performance Computing projects of national and international repute. He has got a long experience in the field of ‘Natural Language Processing’, especially, in the domain of Machine Translation. He has taken the mantle of translating the timeless beauties of Indian literature upon himself so that it reaches across the globe. He has also undertaken translation work for Shri Narendra Modi, the Hon’ble Prime Minister of India, which was highly appreciated by him. He is also a member of ‘Bombay Film Writer Association’.
~ Literature to build bridges of understanding, compassion and friendship across the world…… ~
Dear Friends,
As a proud member of this Group, I would like to share my happiness that over the past few weeks, I have had the privilege of receiving an overwhelming outpouring of appreciation from readers, poets, literary critics, litterateurs and translators across the Hispanic world. Messages have poured in from Spain, Colombia, Venezuela and several other Spanish-speaking countries, responding with remarkable warmth to my poems and their transcreations.
It is neither practical nor possible to share the hundreds of comments and recognitions received. I am, therefore, sharing only a few representative samples.
One literary critic wrote:
“Your poem The Wrinkleless Face is a masterful work of profound introspection… a sublime tribute to resilience and to the enduring mystery of human existence.”
Another reader simply remarked:
“Gracias por compartir… Un gusto leerte, Maestro.”
(“Thank you for sharing… It is a pleasure to read you, Maestro.”)
These words are deeply humbling.
To me, however, this recognition is not about an individual writer. It is a celebration of the timeless richness of Indian literature, whose philosophical depth and human values continue to resonate across cultures, languages and continents.
A poem conceived in India… translated into another language… and embraced by readers thousands of kilometres away…
…is a gentle reminder that literature succeeds where borders, politics and even languages often fail.
If my humble writings have contributed, even in a small measure, towards strengthening the literary and cultural dialogue between India and the Hispanic world, especially the Latin American countries, I shall consider it one of the greatest honours of my literary journey.
I remain deeply grateful to every reader, translator, editor and literary forum that welcomed my work with such warmth and generosity.
May literature continue to build bridges of understanding, compassion and friendship across the world.
Authored six books on happiness: Cultivating Happiness, Nirvana – The Highest Happiness, Meditate Like the Buddha, Mission Happiness, A Flourishing Life, and The Little Book of Happiness. He served in a bank for thirty-five years and has been propagating happiness and well-being among people for the past twenty years. He is on a mission – Mission Happiness!
🌌 A vignette – Serene Morning Exchange 🌌
He stepped out of the park, his heart aglow.
She stood at her doorstep, watching the sunrise.
Two graceful glances. A fleeting glimpse of each other.
The fragrance of that moment lingered through the day.
Authored six books on happiness: Cultivating Happiness, Nirvana – The Highest Happiness, Meditate Like the Buddha, Mission Happiness, A Flourishing Life, and The Little Book of Happiness. He served in a bank for thirty-five years and has been propagating happiness and well-being among people for the past twenty years. He is on a mission – Mission Happiness!
😍 Spouse Flexible Time 🥰
Time, they say, is the most democratic invention of civilisation. It has been neatly divided into zones for the convenience of mankind:
Greenwich Mean Time, Eastern Standard Time, Indian Standard Time, and a few others invented by nations that dislike being late in their own way.
Each serves a noble purpose. Trains run on them, stock markets tremble by them, and governments pretend to function because of them.
As for me, I live by a more practical clock: Spouse Flexible Time (SFT).
It is the most accurate and demanding of all time zones.
I wake up when she wakes up.
I go for a morning walk when she feels the morning deserves a walk.
Breakfast arrives when Her Majesty declares the kitchen open.
Relaxation begins only after official permission has been granted.
Social visits are scheduled according to her planetary alignment.
I laugh when she finds something funny, and look solemn when she remembers an old grievance from 2009.
Television, too, is a matter of diplomacy. I watch when she is free, and what she is free to watch.
Dinner at a restaurant depends not on hunger, but on mood — a force far more powerful and considerably less predictable.
Many men chase happiness through wealth, wisdom, or wilderness retreats. I have discovered a simpler mantra: adjust, agree, and appear cheerful.
It is the shortest route to peace, the cheapest therapy, and the only insurance against domestic thunderstorms.
And now, dear friends, I must leave you. The washing machine awaits, and the utensils are staring at me with the cold authority of destiny — all by her gracious command.
Reflect upon my counsel. Follow it faithfully, and you too may enjoy a long, happy, and mostly uninterrupted life.☺️
A Pathway to Authentic Happiness, Well-Being & A Fulfilling Life! We teach skills to lead a healthy, happy and meaningful life.
The Science of Happiness (Positive Psychology), Meditation, Yoga, Spirituality and Laughter Yoga. We conduct talks, seminars, workshops, retreats and training.
The Yogini whose life-story you are about to read does not dwell in the silence of Himalayan caves, nor does she seek the glow of public applause. She is a simple homemaker in an ordinary town, quietly carrying forward an extraordinary mission — spreading health, happiness and inner peace among women through yoga.
For over two decades, she has served selflessly, away from the noise of social media and advertisement, touching the lives of hundreds of women who today stand as living testimony to her work.
What follows is not merely an article, but a glimpse into a life shaped by discipline, compassion and purpose — a precursor to her forthcoming book, Autobiography of a Yogini.
When we approached her, she wished to remain anonymous, but shared the essence of her vision: that healthy women build healthy families; that yoga empowers young girls with strength, balance and confidence; that it nurtures both body and mind; that it protects against stress and emotional struggles; and above all, that it leads one towards awareness, self-discipline and a meaningful life.
Today, from her modest Yoga Studio for Women, she continues this noble journey with the same humility and dedication. We salute her unwavering spirit and invite our readers to step into her inspiring world through these pages.
Authored six books on happiness: Cultivating Happiness, Nirvana – The Highest Happiness, Meditate Like the Buddha, Mission Happiness, A Flourishing Life, and The Little Book of Happiness. He served in a bank for thirty-five years and has been propagating happiness and well-being among people for the past twenty years. He is on a mission – Mission Happiness!
In the Quiet Service of Breath and Being
There are some beginnings that arrive without noise.
They do not announce themselves with drums or declarations. They come like dawn over a sleeping valley—softly, silently, almost unnoticed. When I look back upon the winding path of my life, I can now see that my journey into yoga began in such a way: gently, like a whisper carried by the wind.
In those days, life moved at a different pace. The air itself seemed unhurried. There was quietude in the atmosphere, a serenity in the surroundings, and a rare authenticity in human relationships. People had time—for conversations, for laughter, for evening walks, and for the little leisure pursuits that stitched joy into ordinary days.
It was destiny that took me to a small township nestled close to the sacred origin of the holy river Narmada.
Even now, when I think of that place, I feel as though I am remembering not merely a location, but a state of consciousness.
It was there that the local ladies’ club invited a Swami ji to teach yoga.
In those times, yoga had not yet become fashionable. There were no yoga mats in every home, no social media poses, no designer leggings, and certainly no one speaking of “core strength” with great seriousness. Yoga was still a quiet, sacred discipline, known to a few and practised by fewer.
Out of curiosity, and perhaps guided by something deeper, I joined the classes with a few of my friends.
That was my first tryst with asanas, pranayama, dhyan, and yoga nidra.
Little did I know then that this first encounter would become the axis around which my entire life would revolve.
When the Swami ji left after completing his sessions, something within us had awakened. A small group of us continued practising together. There was sincerity, innocence, and joy in those sessions. We stumbled through postures, forgot breathing sequences, laughed at our clumsiness, and yet kept returning.
Looking back, I believe it was yoga in the tradition of Swami Satyananda Saraswati, though at that time I knew little of its depth.
Life, as it does, carried me from one place to another. New towns, new homes, new responsibilities. Yet yoga remained my quiet companion. Through the changing landscapes of life, it was my unchanging centre.
I must confess, however, that for many years my understanding of yoga remained limited—confined only to what I had learned in those early days.
But somewhere within me, a longing had begun to grow.
I wished to dive deeper.
Not merely into the postures—but into the spirit behind them.
That longing led me to the writings of Swami Satyananda Saraswati. I gathered his books like a thirsty traveller gathers water. Page after page, practice after practice, a larger world began to unfold before me.
Yoga was no longer exercise.
It became inquiry.
It became discipline.
It became devotion.
As my own practice deepened, I began teaching a small group of ladies in a community hall.
It is one of yoga’s quiet miracles that when you teach sincerely, you become a student all over again.
As I taught them, I learned more.
As I guided them, I was guided.
As I corrected their postures, life corrected mine.
The deeper I went, the more I realised how vast yoga truly was—an ocean where one may spend lifetimes and still remain at the shore.
In time, this quest took me to the foothills of the Himalayas, where I studied the tradition of B. K. S. Iyengar.
I found Iyengar Yoga especially beneficial for middle-aged women. The intelligent use of props—bricks, belts, bolsters—made it possible for many to experience the benefits of asanas that their bodies could not otherwise access.
This touched me deeply.
I had long believed that women are the foundational pillar of a family.
A healthy woman sustains the rhythm of the household. Her vitality nourishes generations. And yet, I have seen countless women sacrifice their health in serving everyone else, until their own bodies begin to protest.
When a woman falls ill, the entire family feels the tremor.
This truth settled in me like a vow.
I resolved to serve womankind through yoga.
For I have come to understand that healthy women create healthy families, healthy families create healthy societies, and healthy societies create a healthy nation.
This has become my life’s quiet mission.
To serve better, I knew I must keep learning.
Yoga does not permit stagnation.
It is a path of continuous refinement.
Over the years, I attended sessions with yoga masters of national and international repute, undertaking long and intense programmes of study, deepening both my knowledge and my practice.
Yet some of the most transformative learning did not happen in classrooms.
It happened on the banks of the holy Ganga.
For long periods, I lived there—studying yoga, the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, mantra chanting, Vedic rituals, and meditation.
There is something about the Ganga that cannot be explained.
One must sit beside her to understand.
I travelled along the sacred currents of the Alaknanda River, the Bhagirathi River, and many other Himalayan rivers, seeking—not knowledge alone—but the spirit of the ancient rishis who once meditated there.
In those mountains, silence is not emptiness.
It is presence.
Even today, I rise in the Brahma-muhurta.
In those sacred pre-dawn hours, when the world still sleeps and the sky has not yet chosen its colour, I sit in meditation and prayer—for the welfare of all sentient beings.
This prayer has become the fragrance of my mornings.
For more than two decades now, I have been imparting yoga lessons and helping women lead healthier, happier, and more balanced lives.
To witness a woman reclaim her strength, her peace, her confidence—this is among life’s most beautiful rewards.
And now, my heart turns especially toward young girls.
For yoga can shape them at the very foundation of life.
It strengthens the body, increases flexibility, and builds resilience. It improves stamina, balance, and coordination. It sharpens focus and deepens concentration, helping them in their studies and in the shaping of character.
Yoga supports healthy hormonal development, balancing the endocrine system and nurturing emotional well-being.
It improves circulation and allows energy to flow harmoniously through the body.
And gradually, something even more precious happens.
The mind becomes calmer.
Purer.
More peaceful.
Girls who practise yoga regularly are less likely to be overwhelmed by stress, anxiety, or depression.
Yoga encourages holistic growth.
It cultivates self-discipline, restraint, awareness, and mindfulness.
It builds self-confidence and self-respect.
And above all, it opens the doorway to a balanced, meaningful, and fulfilling life.
I have often reflected that there is perhaps nothing more meaningful than dedicating one’s life to a noble cause.
To serve.
To heal.
To uplift.
If, through yoga, I have been able to bring even a little peace into someone’s life, I consider myself blessed.
I am deeply grateful to every woman who has walked this journey with me over the years.
Each one of them has been my companion, my mirror, my teacher.
I am proud of them all.
My only message to them is simple:
Keep going.
Yoga is not merely for the body.
It is for the mind.
For the spirit.
For life itself.
I thank my family and friends who stood beside me in this noble endeavour, offering their love, patience, and unwavering support.
I bow with reverence to all my Gurus, who lit the lamp of yoga within me and made it possible for me to pass that light onward.
And above all, I thank God for this precious gift.
For breath.
For awareness.
For service.
I pray for strength, humility, and inspiration to continue serving humankind till my last breath.
For in the end, this body shall one day return to dust.
But if through these hands some healing has happened,
A Pathway to Authentic Happiness, Well-Being & A Fulfilling Life! We teach skills to lead a healthy, happy and meaningful life.
The Science of Happiness (Positive Psychology), Meditation, Yoga, Spirituality and Laughter Yoga. We conduct talks, seminars, workshops, retreats and training.
(Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi—an ex Naval Officer, possesses a multifaceted personality. He served as a Senior Advisor in prestigious Supercomputer organisation C-DAC, Pune. He was involved in various Artificial Intelligence and High-Performance Computing projects of national and international repute. He has got a long experience in the field of ‘Natural Language Processing’, especially, in the domain of Machine Translation. He has taken the mantle of translating the timeless beauties of Indian literature upon himself so that it reaches across the globe. He has also undertaken translation work for Shri Narendra Modi, the Hon’ble Prime Minister of India, which was highly appreciated by him. He is also a member of ‘Bombay Film Writer Association’.
~ The Finger Inside the Mushroom… ~
☆
There was a time in the Navy when ships were not merely maintained—they were loved immensely.
The young officers of today, raised on modern deck coatings, power tools, and sophisticated maintenance systems, may find it difficult to believe that we once spent hours on our knees, holystoning decks until they gleamed like polished marble.
For the uninitiated, a holystone was a block of soft sandstone used to scrub wooden decks. The task required sailors and young officers alike to kneel and push the stone back and forth along the grain of the deck. By the end of the exercise, backs ached, knees protested, and uniforms were soaked, but the deck shone with a pride that no machine could replicate.
As Cadets onboard INS Mysore, we did it all.
We holystoned the quarterdeck.
We chipped the decks and removed the rust.
We painted ship’s sides while suspended precariously over the water on planks and bosun’s chairs.
We cleaned compartments that no visitor would ever see.
We even cleaned the insides of mushroom ventilators on deck.
At that age, many of us wondered why.
After all, weren’t officers supposed to command?
Years later, the wisdom became apparent.
The Navy was not teaching us how to scrub a deck.
It was teaching us how to inspect one.
It was teaching us that no officer can effectively supervise a task he has never performed himself.
Once you have chipped rust with your own hands, nobody can convince you that rust hidden beneath paint is acceptable.
Once you have cleaned a mushroom ventilator, nobody can claim it has been cleaned when it hasn’t.
And that lesson remained with us throughout our careers.
One incident remains etched in my memory.
Our ship was preparing for the Annual Inspection by the Commander-in-Chief.
As always, preparations were meticulous.
Every compartment was shining.
Every deck was scrubbed.
Every corner was checked.
The ship looked immaculate.
The Commander-in-Chief arrived and began his rounds.
He inspected quietly and methodically.
Then he stopped beside a mushroom ventilator.
Perhaps he had seen enough ships in his career to know where dust liked to hide.
Perhaps he expected to discover what generations of inspecting officers had discovered before him.
Unexpectedly, without a word, he inserted a finger deep inside the mushroom.
For a brief moment, the collective pulse rate of many officers undoubtedly increased as their hearts started pumping faster.
Then he withdrew his finger. Lo and behold! It was:
Clean.
Spotlessly clean.
No dust.
No grime.
Nothing.
The Commander-in-Chief looked at his finger.
Then at the ship.
Then at us.
What he had hoped to find was absent.
What he found instead was evidence of something far more important.
Attention to detail.
Professional pride.
Ownership.
He later complimented the ship, but what remained etched in our memory was the naval equivalent of a standing ovation.
What followed from the Commander-in-Chief was a “Bravo Zulu”—the proverbial “Well Done”.
For those unfamiliar with naval parlance, Bravo Zulu is more than a signal. It is recognition from one seaman to another that the job has been done properly, thoroughly and professionally.
To us, it was not merely praise for a clean mushroom ventilator.
It was recognition of countless hours spent holystoning decks, chipping rust, painting ship’s sides, cleaning hidden corners and learning that excellence lies in the details nobody notices.
(Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi—an ex Naval Officer, possesses a multifaceted personality. He served as a Senior Advisor in prestigious Supercomputer organisation C-DAC, Pune. He was involved in various Artificial Intelligence and High-Performance Computing projects of national and international repute. He has got a long experience in the field of ‘Natural Language Processing’, especially, in the domain of Machine Translation. He has taken the mantle of translating the timeless beauties of Indian literature upon himself so that it reaches across the globe. He has also undertaken translation work for Shri Narendra Modi, the Hon’ble Prime Minister of India, which was highly appreciated by him. He is also a member of ‘Bombay Film Writer Association’.
~A Front Row Seat to Modern Warfare… ~
☆
35,000 Feet Above the Ground… and a Front Row Seat to Modern Warfare
A friend and coursemate, Captain PM Joshi, NM (Bar), a highly decorated military pilot and twice recipient of Gallantry Awards from the President of India, recently had an experience that few civilians can even imagine.
Flying over the Middle East, somewhere close to Jordan, he happened to be looking out of the aircraft window during sunset. What first appeared to be unusual lights on the horizon quickly developed into something far more significant.
Bright streaks in the sky. A rapidly expanding high-altitude plume. Multiple interceptors climbing towards their target.
Years of military flying teach us to notice details that others might overlook.
He instinctively captured a few photographs.
Five minutes later, the captain made an announcement confirming missile activity in the area.
The irony was hard to miss.
Inside the aircraft, passengers were engrossed in movies, conversations, and the beauty of the sunset.
Outside, beyond the horizon, an air defence battle was unfolding.
For military professionals, the photographs are a stark reminder of the changing character of warfare.
Today’s battles are not always fought by soldiers facing each other across a battlefield. They are fought through missiles, drones, sensors, satellites, electronic warfare, and layered air-defence networks spanning hundreds of kilometres.
The engagement may have lasted only a few moments.
The technology behind it took decades to develop.
The professionals operating those systems took years to train.
And the strategic consequences may be felt for generations.
To the untrained eye, these are merely beautiful photographs of a colourful evening sky.
But to those who have worn the uniform, they represent vigilance, preparedness, deterrence, and the unforgiving realities of modern conflict.
A sunset.
A civilian airliner.
Missiles in the sky.
A reminder that peace is never accidental.
It is protected every day by men and women who stand watch, often unseen, often unacknowledged, but never unimportant.
The sky may look peaceful. It does not always mean that it is.
(Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi—an ex Naval Officer, possesses a multifaceted personality. He served as a Senior Advisor in prestigious Supercomputer organisation C-DAC, Pune. He was involved in various Artificial Intelligence and High-Performance Computing projects of national and international repute. He has got a long experience in the field of ‘Natural Language Processing’, especially, in the domain of Machine Translation. He has taken the mantle of translating the timeless beauties of Indian literature upon himself so that it reaches across the globe. He has also undertaken translation work for Shri Narendra Modi, the Hon’ble Prime Minister of India, which was highly appreciated by him. He is also a member of ‘Bombay Film Writer Association’.
~ The Nation and Its Conscience… ~
(In continuation with my previous article…The conscience and the cage…)
☆
Patriotism, Democracy, and the Limits of Power
The label “fascist” would be misplaced. If a label must be used, “patriot” or “nationalist” would be far closer to the sentiment being expressed.
The underlying principle is simple:
“There is nothing above the nation.”
After all, individuals flourish only when the nation itself remains secure, stable, and prosperous. Therefore, whatever genuinely serves the long-term interests of the nation deserves support—not the adulterated version wrapped in slogans, political expediency, or partisan interests, but the authentic welfare of the nation and its people.
The concern is not with democracy as an ideal. Democracy remains one of humanity’s most valuable political achievements. The concern lies with its frequent distortion in practice.
Too often, democracy is reduced to a pathway for power, wealth, and authority. Criminalization of politics becomes normalized, money and muscle overshadow merit, institutions become vulnerable to corruption, and public service gives way to self-interest. Merit becomes the first casualty, while opportunists and parasites flourish.
These criticisms are not anti-democratic. Indeed, many of democracy’s strongest defenders have voiced precisely these concerns. To recognize flaws within a system is not to reject it; it is to seek its improvement.
There is, however, a fundamental distinction that deserves attention.
A patriot says:
“I love my country and want it to prosper.”
A fascist goes further and says:
“The nation must override all competing values, and dissent or pluralism become threats.”
The difference may appear subtle in language, but history has shown it to be immense in consequence.
The sentiment, “We’re there if the nation is there. Whatever is in the interest of the nation, we choose that,” has been shared by countless soldiers, freedom fighters, public servants, and ordinary citizens throughout history. Love for one’s nation is neither unusual nor inherently authoritarian.
Perhaps the greatest mistake in public discourse is to equate the nation with the government of the day.
Governments come and go. States evolve. Nations endure.
Loyalty to a nation does not require unquestioning loyalty to a government. Indeed, constructive criticism is often among the highest forms of patriotism, for it seeks to strengthen the nation rather than weaken it.
Democracy, however, faces dangers from more than one direction.
Just as excessive concentration of power can threaten liberty, relentless opposition driven by personal prejudice, ideological rigidity, or vested interests can distort public discourse. Criticism is essential to democracy, but criticism loses its moral force when it becomes an agenda rather than an honest assessment of facts.
A government, a leader, or an institution should neither be praised uncritically nor condemned reflexively. Both blind support and blind opposition weaken the democratic process.
The health of a democracy depends upon the ability of citizens to distinguish between genuine accountability and manufactured outrage, between principled dissent and habitual obstruction. When public debate becomes captive to personal grudges, political tribalism, or predetermined narratives, truth often becomes the first casualty.
Fortunately, societies possess a certain collective wisdom. Over time, most citizens learn to distinguish substance from noise, performance from achievement, and genuine concern from motivated hostility. Voices driven primarily by resentment or personal bias may attract temporary attention, but they seldom command lasting public trust.
The real challenge emerges when frustration with a flawed democracy leads societies to seek alternatives that promise efficiency, discipline, and decisive action. History repeatedly reminds us that this is a dangerous crossroads.
A weak democracy can be frustrating.
But an unchecked concentration of power can be far more dangerous.
The answer, therefore, is not to abandon democratic principles, but to strengthen institutions, restore accountability, reward merit, and ensure that patriotism remains a force for national renewal rather than a justification for the erosion of freedom.
A nation is not strengthened when power becomes absolute.
It is strengthened when patriotism is balanced by conscience, authority by accountability, and national pride by respect for liberty.
The true test of a democracy is not whether it produces strong rulers, but whether it produces strong institutions and responsible citizens.
For in the end, the destiny of a nation is determined not merely by those who govern it, but by those who remain vigilant in its service.
(Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi—an ex Naval Officer, possesses a multifaceted personality. He served as a Senior Advisor in prestigious Supercomputer organisation C-DAC, Pune. He was involved in various Artificial Intelligence and High-Performance Computing projects of national and international repute. He has got a long experience in the field of ‘Natural Language Processing’, especially, in the domain of Machine Translation. He has taken the mantle of translating the timeless beauties of Indian literature upon himself so that it reaches across the globe. He has also undertaken translation work for Shri Narendra Modi, the Hon’ble Prime Minister of India, which was highly appreciated by him. He is also a member of ‘Bombay Film Writer Association’.
We present Capt. Pravin Raghuvanshi ji’s paper “~ The conscience and the cage…~”.
The central theme is:
Society deteriorates when conscientious people withdraw from participation.
The tragedy is not that corruption exists; the tragedy is that integrity chooses silence.
Good people cannot permanently outsource public responsibility to bad people and then complain about the outcome.
This paper has been circulated to 150 international forums…
We extend our heartiest thanks to the learned author Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi Ji (who is very well conversant with Hindi, Sanskrit, English and Urdu languages) and his artwork.)
~ The conscience and the cage… ~
☆
Balancing the Purity of Inner Truth with the Pragmatism of Democratic Systems
Abstract
This paper examines the enduring tension between individual moral conviction and the imperfect mechanisms of collective governance. It explores the role of the awakened conscience as a source of personal integrity, national devotion, and selfless action, while simultaneously acknowledging the dangers inherent in allowing any single moral certainty to govern public life unchecked.
Particular attention is given to the phenomenon of the “Silent Five Percent” — the conscientious minority whose quiet contributions sustain society but whose withdrawal from public engagement often creates a vacuum readily occupied by more ambitious and manipulative actors. The paper argues that democratic institutions, despite their inefficiencies and vulnerabilities, exist not to replace virtue but to provide a framework through which competing convictions may coexist without descending into conflict. Ultimately, the challenge of civilization lies not in choosing between conscience and systems, but in ensuring that conscience remains actively engaged within the systems that govern collective life.
i. The Anatomy of the inner sense
At the heart of genuine national devotion lies a quiet and deeply personal conviction—an internal sense of what serves the collective good. Unlike performative political rhetoric or transactional public engagement, an awakened conscience seeks neither personal
advancement nor public recognition. It acts without expectation of reward and remains largely indifferent to applause.
This inner compass is fundamentally non-transactional. It inspires the soldier who stands guard in anonymity, the labourer who performs his duty with honesty, and the reformer who works without seeking credit. Such individuals are guided not by external incentives but by an internal alignment between belief and action.
From the perspective of the awakened conscience, the compromises and calculations of political life often appear troubling. Endless ideological disputes, factional rivalries, and struggles for influence may seem less like signs of democratic vitality and more like symptoms of moral fragmentation. To the individual guided by deep conviction, truth appears self-evident, while compromise can seem indistinguishable from dilution.
Yet herein lies a profound paradox: the very certainty that gives conscience its strength may also become its limitation.
ii. The silent five percent and the Paradox of Visibility
Public discourse often creates the impression that society is dominated by opportunism, manipulation, and self-interest. The loudest voices frequently belong not to the wisest or most conscientious, but to those most skilled at commanding attention.
This phenomenon may be understood through what can be termed the Silent Five Percent Principle. The figures themselves are not intended as statistical measurements but as a conceptual framework illustrating a recurring social reality. A relatively small minority of conscientious individuals quietly sustain institutions, communities, and civic life, while a far larger proportion of visible discourse is occupied by those pursuing power, influence, or personal gain.
The distinction is one of visibility rather than absolute numbers.
Those motivated by ambition must remain visible because their influence depends upon public perception. The conscientious individual, by contrast, often prefers action over proclamation and contribution over recognition. Consequently, society frequently hears most from those who seek power and least from those most deserving of trust.
This dynamic produces two significant consequences:
The Accomplice of Withdrawal
Disillusioned by the toxicity of public life, many conscientious individuals retreat into private virtue. While understandable, this withdrawal carries unintended consequences. By abandoning civic participation, the virtuous inadvertently leave public institutions increasingly vulnerable to those less constrained by ethical considerations.
The Vacuum Effect
Power rarely remains unoccupied. Every vacuum created by the retreat of principled citizens is eventually filled by individuals willing to compete for influence. Thus, when the conscientious withdraw to preserve their moral purity, they may unintentionally surrender the direction of public life to the very forces they oppose.
The tragedy is not merely that corruption exists; it is that integrity often chooses silence.
iii. The pragmatic necessity of imperfect Institutions
If conscience represents humanity’s highest moral faculty, why should societies tolerate cumbersome institutions, procedural constraints, and seemingly endless democratic debate?
The answer lies in the complexity of human plurality.
The greatest strength of conscience is also its greatest limitation: it is deeply personal. Two individuals may be equally selfless, equally patriotic, and equally sincere, yet arrive at radically different conclusions regarding what best serves the nation.
Neither may be acting from greed. Neither may be acting from malice. Yet their convictions may still conflict.
This reality gives rise to a crucial distinction between moral certainty and political legitimacy.
The Conscience
Its authority arises from internal conviction, ethical clarity, and personal integrity.
Its strengths include decisiveness, courage, and resistance to corruption.
Its vulnerability lies in the possibility of absolute certainty. Because its source of validation is internal, it may become resistant to challenge, criticism, or alternative perspectives.
The Democratic System
Its authority arises from laws, institutions, procedures, and constitutional safeguards.
Its strengths include accountability, adaptability, and the capacity for peaceful correction of errors.
Its vulnerabilities include inefficiency, susceptibility to influence, and periodic paralysis.
Yet these weaknesses serve a purpose. Democratic friction is not merely a defect; it is often a safeguard. Debate, disagreement, and institutional constraints slow decision-making precisely because they prevent any single conviction from becoming absolute authority.
iv. The danger of moral monopoly
History offers a sobering lesson: some of the greatest injustices have not been committed by individuals who believed themselves evil, but by individuals utterly convinced of their own righteousness.
Every ideology possesses an internal logic. Every movement believes itself justified. Every ruler who suppresses dissent eventually discovers a moral language through which that suppression can be explained.
The danger, therefore, does not arise from conviction itself. It arises when conviction becomes immune to scrutiny.
An unchecked conscience may gradually transform personal certainty into public doctrine. Because inner truth cannot be independently audited, measured, or universally verified, disagreement ceases to be viewed as a legitimate difference of opinion. Instead, it becomes interpreted as ignorance, obstruction, disloyalty, or even treason.
This is the hidden risk of moral monopoly.
Democratic institutions exist not because human beings lack conviction, but because they possess different convictions. Their purpose is not to determine who is morally pure; it is to create a framework within which competing certainties can coexist without destroying one another.
v. Conclusion: Activating the silent five percent
The central challenge of civilization is to bridge the distance between private virtue and public responsibility.
The conscientious citizen cannot afford to regard civic engagement as beneath them. Nor can the morally awakened retreat permanently into private life while expecting public institutions to remain healthy. Silence may preserve personal purity, but it cannot preserve a nation.
Likewise, societies cannot rely solely upon systems and procedures. Institutions derive their strength from the character of the individuals who inhabit them. Laws may restrain corruption, but they cannot manufacture integrity.
The task, therefore, is neither to replace conscience with institutions nor institutions with conscience. It is to maintain a constructive tension between the two.
A healthy society requires citizens whose moral convictions are strong enough to challenge corruption, yet humble enough to accept scrutiny. It requires institutions resilient enough to withstand bad leaders and flexible enough to correct inevitable errors without social collapse.
The survival of civilization depends upon this balance.
For the greatest danger to a nation is not merely the presence of corruption, but the withdrawal of conscience from the public square.
A society endures not because virtue exists, but because virtue participates.
Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra, known for his wit and wisdom, is a prolific writer, renowned satirist, children’s literature author, and poet. He has undertaken the monumental task of writing, editing, and coordinating a total of 55 books for the Telangana government at the primary school, college, and university levels. His editorial endeavors also include online editions of works by Acharya Ramchandra Shukla.
As a celebrated satirist, Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra has carved a niche for himself, with over eight million viewers, readers, and listeners tuning in to his literary musings on the demise of a teacher on the Sahitya AajTak channel. His contributions have earned him prestigious accolades such as the Telangana Hindi Academy’s Shreshtha Navyuva Rachnakaar Samman in 2021, presented by the honorable Chief Minister of Telangana, Mr. Chandrashekhar Rao. He has also been honored with the Vyangya Yatra Ravindranath Tyagi Stairway Award and the Sahitya Srijan Samman, alongside recognition from Prime Minister Narendra Modi and various other esteemed institutions.
Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra’s journey is not merely one of literary accomplishments but also a testament to his unwavering dedication, creativity, and profound impact on society. His story inspires us to strive for excellence, to use our talents for the betterment of others, and to leave an indelible mark on the world.
Some precious moments of life
Honoured with ‘Shrestha Navayuvva Rachnakar Samman’ by former Chief Minister of Telangana Government, Shri K. Chandrasekhar Rao.
Honoured with Oscar, Grammy, Jnanpith, Sahitya Akademi, Dadasaheb Phalke, Padma Bhushan and many other awards by the most revered Gulzar sahab (Sampurn Singh Kalra), the lighthouse of the world of literature and cinema, during the Sahitya Suman Samman held in Mumbai.
Meeting the famous litterateur Shri Vinod Kumar Shukla Ji, honoured with Jnanpith Award.
Got the privilege of meeting Mr. Perfectionist of Bollywood, actor Aamir Khan.
Meeting the powerful actor Vicky Kaushal on the occasion of being honoured by Vishva Katha Rangmanch.
Today we present his Article – The Tragic Death of the Grinding Stone.
☆ Witful Warmth# 71 ☆
☆ Satire ☆ The Tragic Death of the Grinding Stone… ☆ Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’ ☆
The other day, in the creepiest corner of the store-room where spiders are building their own little kingdoms, a total disaster happened. The new bride of the house was cleaning junk and kicked a heavy, rectangular stone. That stone used to be the Grandpa of the Kitchen. My grandma spent her whole life scrubbing it, and the smell of the spices it crushed was so good it made even the street dogs hungry. But today, in the house of its own kids, it’s treated like it has cooties. A grinding stone (silbatta) doesn’t die; it just goes quiet. And honestly, that silence is pretty sad if you actually have feelings. In today’s world of shiny glass kitchens—where friendships break faster than two-minute noodles—that stone is like an old, loyal worker who got fired and forced to sleep on a tiny cot in the garage.
Losing the grinding stone is basically the end of Mom’s love. I remember when Mom would “deal” with red chillies and garlic on it. The sound of the stone hitting the base was like a holy concert. Swoosh-swoosh… clink-clink… She wasn’t just crushing spices; she was crushing all her tiredness, her anger, and her love into that paste. Because she vented all her frustration on the stone, she didn’t feel like fighting with us! That chutney wasn’t just food; it was Mom’s “blood pressure regulator” that made our tummies feel awesome. Today’s mixer-grinder? It’s a cancer machine. It sounds like an electric saw. The noise is so loud it makes everyone grumpy and ready to fight over nothing. Mixers don’t grind spices; they murder their dreams. The blades chop coriander so violently they probably change its DNA! The real taste was in the friction, which you’ll now only find in history books.
It gets even worse. Now, this legendary stone is only used as a prop in weddings. Seeing the grinding stone sitting next to old baskets for a ceremony is heartbreaking. It’s like taking a grandpa out of an old-age home for just one hour so he can be in a wedding selfie to look “traditional.” On the wedding day, they bathe the stone in turmeric and tie strings around it like it’s a hero going to war. The bride and groom touch it and make promises, basically saying, “Hey stone, look at us today, because tomorrow we’re just ordering pizza and using the blender.” As soon as the party ends, the stone gets a “divorce” and is tossed back into the dark room where lizards hold their secret meetings.
The grinding stone taught us patience. Today’s “Generation Fast” wants everything snap-of-a-finger fast. Fast food, fast success, fast breakups. The stone told us: “If you want flavor, you gotta scrub.” It taught us that you only shine when you work hard. The mixer made us lazy and bratty. It does the work with one button, so we don’t value effort. It’s funny (and sad): today’s brides are scared they’ll get a back injury if they use a grinding stone, but they’ll go to the gym and lift 5kg dumbbells for the “aesthetic.” What a joke! We threw away our heritage like trash and called plastic our new identity.
You can fill your stomach with a mixer, but you’ll never get that “soul-satisfaction” of licking the last drop of chutney off a stone. That stone was the family’s therapist. It turned the women’s sorrows into tasty food. Now we have fancy chimneys and microwaves, but the “blessing” is gone. Because the blessing was in the sweat that dripped while working the stone. Next time you press the “on” button on your blender, listen closely. You’ll hear the spices screaming as they get burned by the motor. Then, remember that quiet, brave stone waiting in the dark. The grinding stone is dead. And here we are, acting all “modern” while eating tasteless delivery food. Real flavor isn’t in pushing a button—it’s in putting your heart (and hands) into it.
Authored six books on happiness: Cultivating Happiness, Nirvana – The Highest Happiness, Meditate Like the Buddha, Mission Happiness, A Flourishing Life, and The Little Book of Happiness. He served in a bank for thirty-five years and has been propagating happiness and well-being among people for the past twenty years. He is on a mission – Mission Happiness!
🌿 In the Lap of the Eternal: A Sojourn Through Devbhoomi 🌿
There are journeys that take you across distances… and then there are those that gently carry you inward. My recent sojourn through the sacred land of Uttarakhand—Devbhoomi, the Abode of the Divine—belonged unmistakably to the latter.
For nearly one and a half months, life slowed to the rhythm of mountains, glaciers, and rivers that seemed to whisper stories older than time. The winding hill roads tested patience, yet every turn unveiled a spectacle—snow-kissed peaks standing in silent majesty, and a holy river gliding alongside like an eternal companion.
It made one wonder: how does this land hold within it such an abundance of temples, legends, and quiet faith? Perhaps the answer lies not in books, but in the air itself—where every breath feels like a prayer.
🌊 Rishikesh: Where Silence Speaks
Nestled gently in the Himalayan foothills, Rishikesh greeted us with the serene embrace of the sacred Ganga River.
While my wife Radhika immersed herself in an intense yoga course at Parmarth Niketan Ashram—her days beginning before dawn and stretching into the quiet of night—I found myself gifted with something rare in modern life: the sweetness of doing nothing.
Each morning, I sat by the flowing Ganga, watching her waters shimmer in the first light. There, in stillness, thoughts softened, and time seemed to dissolve. Meditation came not as effort, but as a natural unfolding.
A gentle Sunday trek to Bhootnath Temple revealed a view so enchanting that it lingered long after—the river winding through the town like a sacred thread stitching together earth and sky.
🕉️ The Call of the Himalayas
As the yoga course concluded, our hearts were drawn deeper into the Himalayas—to places we had long dreamt of visiting. The sacred confluences, the Prayags, awaited us, each holding within it a story of union and surrender.
🔱 Guptkashi & Ukhimath:
Where Prayers Become Whispers
In Guptkashi, the ancient Vishwanath Temple stood as a quiet echo of Kashi, while the Ardhanareshvara Temple embodied the divine balance of Shiva and Shakti.
Here, we offered prayers—not just for ourselves, but for generations before us. It felt as though time folded gently, connecting past and present in a single moment of devotion.
At Ukhimath, the evening aarti at Omkareshwar Temple was deeply moving. As lamps flickered against the twilight sky, one could almost feel the presence of the divine—subtle, yet undeniable.
💍 Triyuginarayan: Where Eternity Witnessed Love
In the sacred village of Triyuginarayan, mythology breathes softly through the air. It is here, they say, that Shiva and Parvati were wed.
To witness modern weddings unfolding in the same divine courtyard felt surreal—as though time itself had chosen to stand still, blessing every union with the sanctity of that eternal bond.
🏔️ Through Chopta to Joshimath: Of Peaks and Playfulness
As we journeyed ahead, the meadows of Chopta opened like a dream—lush, quiet, and framed by distant glaciers shimmering under the sun.
At Joshimath, the sacred Narsingh Temple offered a space of deep calm. Yet, what lingered most vividly was not just the aarti—but the laughter of young boys playing cricket in the temple courtyard.
In that moment, the sacred and the simple merged beautifully.
🌳 Jyotirmath: A Dialogue with Time
Founded by Adi Shankaracharya, Jyotirmath felt like stepping into a timeless realm.
Under the ancient Kalpavriksha, whose silent presence spans centuries, we sat in meditation. Nearby, a cave invited us inward—not just physically, but spiritually.
There are places where silence is not empty—it is full. This was one such place.
🌊 The Sacred Confluences: Where Rivers Become One
Each Prayag unfolded like a verse in a sacred hymn:
At Vishnuprayag, the Dhauli Ganga embraced the Alaknanda in a dance of merging waters.
Nandprayag stirred a gentle curiosity—did its name echo the love of Nand Baba and Krishna?
In Karnaprayag, the spirit of Karna seemed to linger in quiet dignity.
Rudraprayag gifted us a moment of grace—descending to touch the waters, and unexpectedly being invited to perform aarti.
From our room, the confluence shimmered below—a living painting, ever-changing yet eternal.
At Dhari Devi Temple, we arrived at dawn. The stillness, the first aarti, and the sense of protection that the goddess embodies—it all felt profoundly intimate.
And finally—
🌺 Devprayag: The Birth of the Ganga
At Devprayag, something within us fell silent.
Here, the Bhagirathi and Alaknanda meet, and from their union emerges the sacred Ganga River in her complete form.
To witness this confluence is to witness a metaphor for life itself—two journeys, long and arduous, merging into something greater, something nurturing, something eternal.
Tears came unbidden. Not of sorrow, but of recognition.
🌺 Surkanda Devi & Lakhamandal: Echoes of Faith
The ascent to Surkanda Devi Temple was adorned with sweeping Himalayan vistas. Radhika had long held this wish in her heart, and as we stood there, the air itself felt charged with a rare, sacred energy.
At Lakhamandal Temple, devotion took on a joyous, almost playful form. Children from the village participated in the evening aarti with such enthusiasm that it felt less like ritual and more like celebration.
Somewhere nearby, by the gentle flow of the Yamuna River, their cricket field echoed with laughter—a reminder that spirituality need not always be solemn; it can be delightfully alive.
🌄 A Journey That Continues
As we returned, we carried no souvenirs—only a quiet fullness. A sense that life, in its essence, is a pilgrimage.
There remains a longing—to walk along the Bhagirathi, to trek to the Panch Kedars and Panch Badri, to return again to those silent heights where the soul finds its reflection.
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