"Living by Principles: My Guide to a Meaningful Life"

In life, I’ve found that adhering to a set of guiding principles allows me to navigate the ever-changing world with a sense of clarity and purpose. These principles have evolved over the years, shaped by personal experiences, intellectual pursuits, and my interactions with others. Here, I share some of the core standards that define how I live, which may also resonate with many seeking balance in this complex journey we call life.

1. Honesty is the Best Policy

From early on, honesty has always been a non-negotiable in my life. Whether it’s being truthful to myself or with others, this principle lays the foundation for trust and respect. A simple white lie may seem harmless in the moment, but I've come to realise that integrity creates a long-lasting impact. It doesn’t always guarantee smooth sailing, but it ensures peace of mind—a treasure far greater than fleeting benefits.

2. Continuous Learning

A deep-rooted belief in education has shaped my life and continues to guide my actions. But learning for me isn’t confined to academic books and classrooms. Life itself is the greatest teacher. Whether through the pages of history, philosophical musings, or everyday interactions, I strive to absorb new insights and perspectives. The world is constantly changing, and in order to stay relevant, one must be open to learning every single day.

As Confucius aptly said, “He who learns but does not think is lost; he who thinks but does not learn is in great danger.”

3. Resilience in the Face of Adversity

Life’s journey is anything but linear. There are ups and downs, victories and setbacks. Yet, one thing I’ve always believed is that the measure of a person is not how they handle success, but how they rise from failure. This resilience, the ability to bounce back from hardships, is crucial to personal growth. I’ve learned not to dwell on misfortune but to extract lessons from it, making me stronger and more adaptive.

It’s often said, "A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor." Indeed, the challenges I’ve faced have honed my ability to steer my ship through rough waters with a steady hand.

4. Empathy and Compassion

In today’s fast-paced world, where self-interest often takes precedence, I’ve made a conscious effort to cultivate empathy and compassion. Understanding others, feeling their pain or joy, and offering support when needed brings an unparalleled richness to life. Whether it’s lending a listening ear or providing a helping hand, I believe that the act of kindness is not just a moral duty but an essential part of the human experience.

As the Dalai Lama wisely said, "Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible."

5. Discipline and Self-Control

One of the most critical aspects of living a principled life is maintaining discipline. Discipline isn’t just about sticking to a routine; it’s about mastering oneself—having the self-control to stay focused on what truly matters, to resist distractions, and to work steadily towards one’s goals. Discipline creates freedom. The freedom to enjoy life’s pleasures without overindulgence, and the freedom to pursue one’s passions with dedication.

Over the years, I’ve found that self-control in both action and thought brings balance, ensuring I remain aligned with my long-term values rather than succumbing to short-term temptations.

6. Faith and Spirituality

For me, faith is not simply about religious observances; it’s about maintaining a deeper connection to the universe, to something greater than myself. Spirituality guides my choices, fuels my resilience, and reminds me that I am part of a larger whole. This belief brings peace, even when external circumstances are turbulent. It reminds me to remain humble, to practice gratitude, and to trust in the divine order of things.

As I’ve often reflected, "Faith is the bird that feels the light and sings when the dawn is still dark."

7. Gratitude in All Things

Lastly, but perhaps most importantly, I live by the principle of gratitude. Life’s blessings may be few or many, but acknowledging them with a thankful heart enhances every experience. Whether it’s appreciating nature’s beauty during a quiet morning walk or reflecting on the opportunities that have come my way, gratitude enriches my soul and brings fulfilment. It shifts focus from what is lacking to the abundance already present.

When the mind is steeped in gratitude, there’s a heightened sense of contentment, one that no material wealth can provide.

A Life Worth Living

Incorporating these principles—honesty, continuous learning, resilience, empathy, discipline, faith, and gratitude—has provided me with a meaningful framework for life. These are not abstract ideals but living standards, guiding my actions, thoughts, and decisions each day. They have enabled me to build a life of purpose, balance, and fulfilment.

Ultimately, life is not measured by how much we accumulate, but by the legacy of our actions, the kindness we extend, and the integrity we uphold. Living by principles may not make life easier, but it certainly makes it more worthwhile.

And in that lies the beauty of this journey.

The Task I’ve Been Putting Off and Why It’s Time to Tackle It

We all have that one task lingering at the back of our minds, nagging us like a forgotten friend awaiting a long-overdue visit. For me, that task has been the complete organisation of my personal library. As someone who has spent a lifetime with books—writing them, teaching from them, and endlessly finding solace in them—you’d think maintaining a library would be second nature. Yet, it’s the one thing I’ve been putting off, despite my love for the written word.

The Weight of Procrastination

My library, much like life itself, is an ever-growing collection of experiences, thoughts, and lessons. Organising it seems like organising my mind—no small feat! Over the years, I’ve accumulated an impressive collection of literary works spanning various subjects: history, philosophy, education, music, and mythology, to name a few. From worn-out classics to modern-day treasures, they sit stacked and piled, awaiting my attention. It’s not that I don’t want to do it; rather, the task feels monumental, almost intimidating.

The procrastination stems from more than just a lack of time or energy. I’ve realised that sorting through these books is more than just a physical task—it’s an emotional one. Each book carries memories, of lectures I’ve delivered, sleepless nights of writing, or quiet moments of reflection. In essence, it is like sifting through the sands of my past. I suspect, in some ways, I’ve avoided this task because it feels like confronting my legacy, and perhaps acknowledging what I’ve left behind since retirement.

Life’s Distractions and Priorities

There’s also the matter of the busyness that life throws at you. Then there’s my ongoing work with ‘Prashant Educational Consultancy Services’ and the blogs that keep my intellectual juices flowing. In between, there are also moments where loneliness strikes, when the silence of my retirement home reminds me that time is fleeting. Ironically, this very awareness of time pushes me to both cherish the present and to delay tasks that feel less pressing.

Why Now is the Right Time

So, why should I finally tackle my library? I’ve realised that much like writing a blog or playing a tune on the harmonium, the satisfaction comes not just in the completion but in the process. To organise these books is to reengage with the passions that have shaped me. It’s not a chore but a tribute to the knowledge and wisdom I’ve gathered.

More importantly, this task symbolises a sense of renewal. In organising the past, I am preparing space for the future. There’s still so much I want to learn, to write, and to teach, and for that, my mind—and my library—needs room to grow. As I find myself searching for purpose in this new phase of life, this small act of putting my books in order seems like the perfect place to start.

 The Journey Awaits

They say a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, and perhaps the same can be said for a library of a thousand books. It's time to embrace the task I’ve been putting off, not as a daunting mountain to climb, but as an exciting adventure into the recesses of my mind. After all, as someone who has always believed in the power of education and reflection, what better way to honour that belief than by finally getting my library in order?

Perhaps, once the shelves are neatly aligned, I’ll find not just old books, but new stories waiting to be told.

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This reflective and engaging tone mirrors your previous blog styles, intertwining personal anecdotes, philosophical musings, and relatable procrastination themes, all while maintaining a subtle emotional depth.

Title: “Whispers Beneath the Hearth: A Soul's Silent Struggle”In the stillness of what was once a warm and nurturing home, a silence now lingers—a silence heavy with disappointment, disillusionment, and the slow erosion of trust. This is a silence that many of us, retired and in our later years, have come to know all too well. After decades of nurturing our children, sacrificing our comforts for their success, and offering them unconditional love, we are often met with a coldness that cuts deeper than any blade.There was a time when elders were revered, when their wisdom was sought after and their presence a source of comfort. But in the shifting tides of today’s world, respect has become conditional, tied not to who we are, but to what we can still provide. Many of today’s children seem to have forgotten the very essence of gratitude and respect, their vision clouded by a world that prizes instant gratification and self-interest above all else.As we step into retirement, having spent a lifetime working for the benefit of our families, many of us look forward to a period of peace, reflection, and closeness with those we have nurtured. Yet, what should be a time of rest is often marred by feelings of isolation, exploitation, and neglect. It is a painful irony to realise that the very children we raised with care now seem distant, their needs and wants overshadowing any sense of duty or love towards us.Today's generation, so often fuelled by the pursuit of material wealth and personal indulgence, seems to have grown blind to the sacrifices made for them. What was once a bond of mutual love and respect has, in too many cases, become transactional. Children expect, demand even, but give little in return. It is a bitter truth that many of us retired individuals must face—despite having provided everything we could, we are treated as mere resources to be tapped, rather than as family members deserving of love and respect.This shift in behaviour is not a rare occurrence. We see it in families across the world, where entitlement and selfishness have taken root. The children, so wrapped up in their own lives, rarely see the toll their demands take on us. They ask for more, take what we have, and offer little in return. Their words are often harsh, their actions inconsiderate, leaving us to grapple with the realisation that the relationship we once cherished has become one-sided.But we, the retired and the elderly, cannot afford to let this reality break our spirits. We must learn to safeguard our hearts and our dignity, to protect ourselves from the greed and neglect that can so easily engulf us. It is a difficult path, but one that must be walked if we are to find peace in our later years.Protecting Ourselves from Greed and Neglect1. Establish Clear Boundaries: We must remind ourselves that it is not our duty to endlessly provide for our children once they are grown. Setting firm boundaries—both emotional and financial—is crucial to safeguarding ourselves. There is no shame in saying ‘no’ when demands become unreasonable or when our own well-being is at risk.2. Maintain Financial Independence: For many retirees, financial dependence on children can be a source of vulnerability. Where possible, it is essential to protect what we have and ensure that our financial future is secure. This might mean consulting a financial advisor, drawing up plans for independent living, or even considering alternative arrangements that do not rely on the goodwill of others.3. Emotionally Detach from Unrealistic Expectations: One of the hardest truths to accept is that, sometimes, the love and care we give to our children is not reciprocated. It is not easy to detach from the hope that they will change, but we must learn to lower our expectations for the sake of our emotional health. This does not mean cutting ties or becoming cold, but it does mean protecting ourselves from constant disappointment by not relying on their validation or affection.4. Seek Community and Support Elsewhere: Isolation can deepen our sense of betrayal, but we need not suffer alone. It is important to seek out friendships, community groups, or even professional support. Whether it is a hobby, a faith group, or a social club, finding solace outside of the family can provide much-needed emotional relief. These connections remind us that we are valued, appreciated, and capable of finding joy outside of our immediate circle.A Philosophical ReflectionPhilosophy has long provided comfort in times of turmoil. The Stoic philosophers, in particular, offer a powerful perspective on how to navigate life’s hardships. As Marcus Aurelius once said, “The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way.” Our suffering, though painful, can be a catalyst for inner strength. It is in adversity that we find the resilience to move forward, to reclaim our sense of self, and to rise above the selfishness of others.Tennyson’s immortal lines also come to mind: "Tho' much is taken, much abides; and though we are not now that strength which in old days moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are." These words remind us that while much may have been lost—the warmth, the love, the respect that once filled our homes—there is still a core of strength within us that endures. We are still here, still capable of finding peace and purpose, even when those around us fail to provide the care we deserve.A New Path ForwardIn the end, the way forward is not one of bitterness or resentment, but one of quiet strength and personal resolve. We must choose to prioritise our own well-being, to let go of the expectations we have placed on others, and to seek fulfilment in the quiet moments of life. Though the road may be lonely at times, it is also a path of dignity, self-respect, and inner peace.We must embrace the reality that we can still forge a new chapter in our lives, one where our happiness is not dictated by the whims of others, but by our own choices. Whether it is through hobbies, travel, spiritual reflection, or simply enjoying the quiet pleasures of life, there is always a way to rediscover the joy and contentment that we deserve.For while much may have been taken from us, there is still so much that abides. The strength within us, the wisdom we have gained, and the peace that can be found in solitude—all of these remain. And in these, we can find the redemption and solace that life, despite its trials, still offers.

“Whispers Beneath the Hearth: A Soul's Silent Struggle”

In the stillness of what was once a warm and nurturing home, a silence now lingers—a silence heavy with disappointment, disillusionment, and the slow erosion of trust. This is a silence that many of us, retired and in our later years, have come to know all too well. After decades of nurturing our children, sacrificing our comforts for their success, and offering them unconditional love, we are often met with a coldness that cuts deeper than any blade.

There was a time when elders were revered, when their wisdom was sought after and their presence a source of comfort. But in the shifting tides of today’s world, respect has become conditional, tied not to who we are, but to what we can still provide. Many of today’s children seem to have forgotten the very essence of gratitude and respect, their vision clouded by a world that prizes instant gratification and self-interest above all else.

As we step into retirement, having spent a lifetime working for the benefit of our families, many of us look forward to a period of peace, reflection, and closeness with those we have nurtured. Yet, what should be a time of rest is often marred by feelings of isolation, exploitation, and neglect. It is a painful irony to realise that the very children we raised with care now seem distant, their needs and wants overshadowing any sense of duty or love towards us.

Today's generation, so often fuelled by the pursuit of material wealth and personal indulgence, seems to have grown blind to the sacrifices made for them. What was once a bond of mutual love and respect has, in too many cases, become transactional. Children expect, demand even, but give little in return. It is a bitter truth that many of us retired individuals must face—despite having provided everything we could, we are treated as mere resources to be tapped, rather than as family members deserving of love and respect.

This shift in behaviour is not a rare occurrence. We see it in families across the world, where entitlement and selfishness have taken root. The children, so wrapped up in their own lives, rarely see the toll their demands take on us. They ask for more, take what we have, and offer little in return. Their words are often harsh, their actions inconsiderate, leaving us to grapple with the realisation that the relationship we once cherished has become one-sided.

But we, the retired and the elderly, cannot afford to let this reality break our spirits. We must learn to safeguard our hearts and our dignity, to protect ourselves from the greed and neglect that can so easily engulf us. It is a difficult path, but one that must be walked if we are to find peace in our later years.

Protecting Ourselves from Greed and Neglect

1. Establish Clear Boundaries: We must remind ourselves that it is not our duty to endlessly provide for our children once they are grown. Setting firm boundaries—both emotional and financial—is crucial to safeguarding ourselves. There is no shame in saying ‘no’ when demands become unreasonable or when our own well-being is at risk.

2. Maintain Financial Independence: For many retirees, financial dependence on children can be a source of vulnerability. Where possible, it is essential to protect what we have and ensure that our financial future is secure. This might mean consulting a financial advisor, drawing up plans for independent living, or even considering alternative arrangements that do not rely on the goodwill of others.

3. Emotionally Detach from Unrealistic Expectations: One of the hardest truths to accept is that, sometimes, the love and care we give to our children is not reciprocated. It is not easy to detach from the hope that they will change, but we must learn to lower our expectations for the sake of our emotional health. This does not mean cutting ties or becoming cold, but it does mean protecting ourselves from constant disappointment by not relying on their validation or affection.

4. Seek Community and Support Elsewhere: Isolation can deepen our sense of betrayal, but we need not suffer alone. It is important to seek out friendships, community groups, or even professional support. Whether it is a hobby, a faith group, or a social club, finding solace outside of the family can provide much-needed emotional relief. These connections remind us that we are valued, appreciated, and capable of finding joy outside of our immediate circle.

A Philosophical Reflection

Philosophy has long provided comfort in times of turmoil. The Stoic philosophers, in particular, offer a powerful perspective on how to navigate life’s hardships. As Marcus Aurelius once said, “The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way.” Our suffering, though painful, can be a catalyst for inner strength. It is in adversity that we find the resilience to move forward, to reclaim our sense of self, and to rise above the selfishness of others.

Tennyson’s immortal lines also come to mind: "Tho' much is taken, much abides; and though we are not now that strength which in old days moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are." These words remind us that while much may have been lost—the warmth, the love, the respect that once filled our homes—there is still a core of strength within us that endures. We are still here, still capable of finding peace and purpose, even when those around us fail to provide the care we deserve.

A New Path Forward

In the end, the way forward is not one of bitterness or resentment, but one of quiet strength and personal resolve. We must choose to prioritise our own well-being, to let go of the expectations we have placed on others, and to seek fulfilment in the quiet moments of life. Though the road may be lonely at times, it is also a path of dignity, self-respect, and inner peace.

We must embrace the reality that we can still forge a new chapter in our lives, one where our happiness is not dictated by the whims of others, but by our own choices. Whether it is through hobbies, travel, spiritual reflection, or simply enjoying the quiet pleasures of life, there is always a way to rediscover the joy and contentment that we deserve.

For while much may have been taken from us, there is still so much that abides. The strength within us, the wisdom we have gained, and the peace that can be found in solitude—all of these remain. And in these, we can find the redemption and solace that life, despite its trials, still offers.

The Unseen Struggle for Acceptance

In the quiet recesses of our hearts, we yearn for one thing above all: acceptance. Not the shallow recognition of one’s existence, but the deep, soulful embrace of our essence. The weight of this desire can transform us, pushing us to contort our spirit, to shape our lives to fit the expectations of others. From childhood through every stage of life, this silent craving stays with us, influencing our every action and decision, until we wake up one day and wonder, was it all in vain?

I have spent my life striving to be accepted, not just acknowledged. It wasn’t enough to be seen; I wanted to be truly known, appreciated for who I am, not merely for what I could offer. And so, like a potter shaping clay, I moulded myself to meet the needs of those around me. In the sacred bonds of family, among peers, in the professional world—I gave everything, hoping that the giving would eventually be enough.

But the more I gave, the more it felt like pouring water into a bottomless well. With each passing year, it became clear that no amount of effort, no act of kindness, no sacrifice would fill the void. The words of Ecclesiastes whispered in my ear, “All is vanity, and a striving after the wind.” The more I tried, the more elusive acceptance became, like a shadow that recedes just as you think you’ve caught it.

And it was in this pursuit that my charitable nature was exploited, over and over again. People saw the generosity in me, not as a virtue to honour but as a weakness to exploit. I gave my time, my energy, my wealth, and my goodwill without hesitation, thinking each gesture would finally earn me a place in their hearts. But instead of gratitude, all I received was emptiness. Those whom I had trusted to share in my journey only took from me, draining the very essence of my being, and when they had no more use for me, they moved on, leaving me discarded like an empty vessel.

In the great epic of the Mahabharata, Karna stands as a poignant symbol of generosity exploited. Known for his boundless charity, Karna gave away his armour and earrings, his divine protection, to someone he thought was in need, only to find himself vulnerable in the greatest battle of his life. His kindness, though noble, became his undoing. Like Karna, I too have given pieces of myself—gifts of kindness, time, and forgiveness—believing that in doing so, I would finally find my place in the hearts of those I held dear. But all it did was leave me defenceless.

In professional circles, I went out of my way to assist colleagues, taking on responsibilities that weren’t mine, offering help when it wasn’t asked for, only to be taken advantage of. My goodwill was met with expectations rather than appreciation. It was as if my willingness to give became an unwritten obligation. And when I reached the point where I needed support, I found myself alone, with those I had helped now distant, focused on their own gains. "Be ye therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves," says Matthew 10:16, but in my harmlessness, I lost the wisdom to protect myself.

“What is our life but a brief candle, flickering against the winds of time?” Shakespeare's Macbeth reminds us of the fragility of human existence. Like him, we can become lost in the pursuit of recognition, consumed by the need for others to accept us, until one day, we look back and see only shadows, with little substance left to cling to.

In truth, this longing for acceptance often blinds us to a simple fact—that those we seek it from are often too preoccupied with their own desires to give it freely. It is an exhausting truth to confront, but one that many poets have captured with poignancy. In the words of Rumi, “Don’t grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form.” Perhaps what we lose in seeking acceptance is the time we could have spent nurturing our own soul.

I reflect on how, in personal relationships too, my charitable heart was often misunderstood. When I gave love, patience, and understanding, it was not met with the same in return. People took what they needed, but never reciprocated. I was always expected to forgive, to overlook, to give without questioning—until I realised, painfully, that my generosity had turned into an expectation, a burden I was forced to carry. And so, I became like a tree constantly pruned of its branches, giving shade to others but left barren and withered inside.

And yet, it is not bitterness that fills my heart. No, it is a quiet resignation, a surrender to the reality of life’s paradoxes. For in the greatest teachings, whether from the Bhagavad Gita or the Bible, we learn that the true essence of life lies not in receiving, but in giving without expectation. “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind,” says Romans 12:2. This is the lesson that has come to me through my journey—a hard-won truth, that I am enough as I am, even if no one ever acknowledges it.

In the lines of Hindi shayari, “ज़िंदगी एक ख़्वाब है, ख़्वाब में झूठ क्या और सच क्या, जिसे चाहा उसे पाया नहीं, जिसे पाया उसे चाहा नहीं।” (Life is but a dream, and in a dream, what is false and what is true? What we desire, we never attain, and what we attain, we never truly desire.) This captures the futility of our constant striving, the endless loop of wanting and never feeling fulfilled.

So here I stand, after a lifetime of giving, of bending myself to fit into the moulds others shaped for me, only to realise that no matter how much I gave, it was never enough. I now see that perhaps it was never about being enough for them, but about learning to be enough for myself.

As I reflect, I realise that this entire journey has been less about being accepted by others and more about accepting myself. The world may not always see us as we wish, but that does not diminish our light. We are, as William Wordsworth so beautifully puts it, “A host of golden daffodils, fluttering and dancing in the breeze.” Our value, like those daffodils, lies in our existence, in our quiet beauty, even if no one stops to admire it.

In the end, maybe true acceptance was never meant to come from others. Maybe it’s about finding it within, in the quiet corners of our soul, where divine grace whispers the truth that we have always been enough.

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This journey, though filled with sorrow and unspoken pain, is not one of defeat but of quiet triumph. For in letting go of the world’s elusive acceptance, we find the peace of knowing ourselves. And that, perhaps, is the greatest victory of all.