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In his masterpiece Atma Bodha (Knowledge of the Self), Adi Shankara writes:
“I am distinct from the mind, intellect, ego, and consciousness. I am the witness of their functions.”
He also uses the analogy of a lamp:
A lamp in a pot illuminates only the inside.
When the pot breaks, the same light fills the whole room.
Similarly, when you break identification with the body-mind (the "pot"), you realize you are the formless, all-pervading witness (the "light").
The Clockmaker’s Paradox
In a small, dusty workshop at the edge of a forgotten village, lived an old clockmaker named Elian. While other clockmakers built timepieces to measure hours and minutes, Elian crafted clocks of a different kind. His clocks did not tick with second - they pulsed with moments.
One clock captured happiness. Its glass case shimmered gold, and its hands moved with the slow, syrupy grace of a perfect afternoon. Another clock measured regret; it was a somber thing of dark wood, whose pendulum barely stirred before the moment was gone. A third clock, all brass and coiled springs, held curiosity —and its hands spun forward endlessly, yet the face remained forever unchanged.
For years, Elian believed he was mastering time itself.
Then, one sleepless night, he noticed something terrible. His clocks were lying.
The happiness clock ticked as if a single laugh lasted a century—yet in reality, joy fled the moment you named it. The regret clock vanished its chiming in a single breath—though anyone who had lived knew regret could haunt a lifetime. And the curiosity clock stretched infinitely, covering no ground at all.
“They’re broken,” Elian whispered.
He worked through the night. He adjusted escapements, recalibrated pendulums, and swapped gears of silver and steel. But the more he tried to force the clocks to match real time, the faster they spiraled into chaos. Happiness began stuttering. Regret echoed on loop. Curiosity ground to a dead halt.
By dawn, exhausted and covered in oil, Elian put down his tools.
For the first time, he stopped doing and simply listened.
The workshop was filled with noise—not the orderly tick-tock of a proper clockmaker’s shop, but a wild, overlapping symphony. A chime of joy here. A whisper of regret there. A long, questioning hum of curiosity in between.
It was chaotic.
And strangely, impossibly beautiful.
Elian smiled.
He realized he had spent his life trying to control time—to catch it, cage it, carve it into neat little boxes. But time was never meant to be mastered. It was meant to be heard.
Each moment had its own rhythm, its own weight, its own voice. And when you stopped forcing it to behave, you could finally hear the music.
He never fixed the clocks. He simply wound them each morning and let them sing.
Life is not about controlling time, but about listening to it.
Not every moment moves at the same speed.
Some joys deserve to feel long.
Some regrets need only a breath.
And some curiosities are meant to stretch forever without resolution.
When you stop trying to force life into your schedule, you might discover that its chaos has been a kind of music all along.
So listen, and do not control.
अगर जिंदगी को देखोगे
तो परफेक्ट कभी नहीं होती
लेकिन उसे बेहतर करने का मौका
सबके पास होता है
और लगातार होता है।
तो ये मत देखा करिए कि
क्या गलती कर दी?
कितनी गलती कर दी?
बस ये देखा करिए कि
जो पहले कर दी हैं गलतियाँ
वो आगे मत दोहराएँ।
पहले की गलतियों का भी फायदा उठा
लें!
उससे सीखकर आगे के लिए
बेहतर आदमी बन जाएँ।
🌻
Harsh truth: Nowadays, you need money just to become a member of your own family.
Credit :AmazTalks
