From a Difficult Daughter to a Difficult Disciple

“I have always been a difficult daughter.”

The moment I uttered these words to my mother, tears began rolling down my cheeks. I felt overwhelmed by the thought that I had been troubling her for so many years. Perhaps I had not always been the daughter she deserved, and this realisation made me emotional.

My mother, who has always stood like a shield between me and the harshness of society, immediately tried to reassure me. “No, no! That is not true. I thoroughly enjoyed bringing you up. I grew along with you while taking care of you. I enjoyed every moment spent with you. Please don't think like that.”

She handed me a glass of water, hoping to soothe me.

Her words comforted me, but they also made me realise how differently we sometimes see ourselves from the way our loved ones see us. What I considered a burden, she remembered as a beautiful part of her life.

“Sometimes, we judge ourselves by the troubles we think we have caused, while those who love us remember the happiness we brought into their lives.”

I have always been a difficult daughter, and now I seem to have become a difficult disciple, too.

I know that my Guru has the spiritual strength to help people overcome even their biggest difficulties. Yet, I hardly ever ask Him for anything. He blesses me without my asking, and I remain grateful for that. The strange part is that although I may have so much to say, I find it extremely difficult to express my personal emotions and problems.

My blog is titled Chandrika Shubham: A Reserved Chit-chatter. The name reflects a rather unusual contradiction in my personality. I can talk endlessly about almost every subject under the sun, yet become unusually quiet when the conversation turns towards my own life. I can discuss books, philosophy, spirituality, cooking, yoga, astrology, Vastu Shastra, current affairs and countless other subjects with remarkable enthusiasm. Sometimes, people are amazed at how I can speak with such command about so many different topics. I can be quite a chatterbox!

But ask me about my personal struggles, emotional wounds or business problems, and I retreat into silence. Perhaps talking about the world is easier than talking about oneself. It is easier to explain the mysteries of life than to explain the pain one carries within.

I believe that if I could openly share my wounds with my Guru, he would help me heal them. Yet, I find myself unable to do so. Whenever I gather the courage to express something personal, an unpleasant incident seems to follow. Harsh words or what I perceive as unfair accusations from members of his team make me withdraw. I begin to feel that my Guru is supporting them, although I realise that my perception may not necessarily be correct. At the same time, my faith reminds me that whatever my Guru does is ultimately for my good, even if I find it painful to accept or understand. Torn between what I feel and what I believe, I choose silence rather than trying to explain myself. I retreat further into my shell.

It is not that I do not wish to share my difficulties. It is that I struggle to feel comfortable enough to do so. I want to be understood, but I find it difficult to make myself understood.

“Some people are not short of words; they are simply unable to find the words for their deepest pain.”

Perhaps that is why the phrase A Reserved Chit-chatter describes me so well. I have plenty of words for the world, but very few for my own vulnerabilities. I can be expressive without being revealing, talkative without being forthcoming, and sociable without allowing people to see what lies beneath the surface.

Perhaps this is my difficulty as a disciple, too. I can speak endlessly, yet remain silent about the things that matter most. I know I need guidance, but I struggle to ask for it. I long for understanding, yet find it difficult to open the door through which someone could understand me.

I wonder whether being a difficult daughter and a difficult disciple has something in common. Perhaps, in both relationships, I am still learning how to express my feelings without fear, how to ask for help without feeling guilty, and how to let others see the vulnerable person behind my seemingly confident exterior.

After all, a reserved chit-chatter may have countless stories to tell, but the most difficult story to narrate is sometimes her own.

Pic : AI Generated

Maa Lakshmi’s Blessings Through Nature

“Divine grace does not always arrive in the form we expect. Sometimes, it appears quietly, waiting for us to recognise its significance.”

I have around twenty-four bel (bilva) trees on my farm. Among all these trees, only one had two bel fruits hanging from its branches. At first, it might have seemed like an ordinary sight, but for me, it turned out to be an extraordinary experience—one that connected the physical world with the spiritual.

At that time, I was performing Mahalakshmi Sadhana, seeking the blessings of the Divine Mother. During this spiritual practice, I noticed those two bel fruits. In the world of Sadhana, symbols associated with the deity one worships are often regarded as auspicious signs. What made this sight particularly intriguing was that, among so many trees, only one had borne fruit, and it had just two.

This reminded me of a beautiful story associated with Lord Vishnu, Goddess Mahalakshmi and Lord Shiva.

Once, Indra, the king of the heavens, visited Lord Vishnu in Vaikuntha, riding a magnificent horse. The Divine Mother, Mahalakshmi, became captivated by the horse. She regarded it as Her brother, as it too had emerged from the cosmic churning of the ocean. So absorbed was She in admiring the horse that She paid little attention to Lord Vishnu's words.

Displeased by Her distraction, Lord Vishnu cursed Her, saying that if She loved the horse so dearly, She should be born as a mare. The curse eventually led to the birth of a new dynasty, from which the valiant Kartavirya Arjuna, also known as Sahasrabahu Arjuna or Sahasrarjuna, emerged.

Shocked by what had happened, the Divine Mother sought a way to be released from the curse. Lord Vishnu told Her that only Lord Shiva could undo His words. Determined to find a solution, Mahalakshmi descended to Earth and undertook intense penance. She began offering ten thousand bilva fruits every day to Lord Shiva, as the bilva fruit is especially dear to Him.

The significance of the bilva tree is beautifully described in the sixth verse of the Sri Suktam:

आदित्यवर्णे तपसोऽधिजातो वनस्पतिस्तव वृक्षोऽथ बिल्वः।
तस्य फलानि तपसानुदन्तु मायान्तरायाश्च बाह्या अलक्ष्मीः॥ ६॥

The verse addresses the Divine Mother as Ādityavarṇā, the One whose radiance is like that of the Sun. It says that the bilva tree was born through Her austerity and prays that its fruits may remove the obstacles created by Maya (illusion) and drive away external Alakshmi, symbolising misfortune, inauspiciousness and poverty.

I find this verse particularly beautiful because it connects the bilva tree with the Divine Mother's penance and describes its fruits as capable of removing both inner and outer obstacles. It also gives a deeper spiritual significance to the bilva fruits offered in worship.

One day, however, Mahalakshmi found Herself two fruits short of the required ten thousand. Her devotion was so intense that, in Her determination to complete the offering, She even contemplated offering Her own breasts in place of the missing fruits. Before She could do so, Lord Shiva appeared and intervened. Pleased with Her devotion and penance, He released Her from the curse.

This story carries a deeper symbolism. In the Lalita Sahasranama, the Divine Mother's two breasts are referred to through the name Kuchadvayabharanabhrat is associated with Her two breasts, which can be understood symbolically as representing the dualities of existence: the good and the bad, and the many pairs of opposites that shape our worldly experience.

The story made me look at the two bel fruits on my farm in a different light. I had been performing Mahalakshmi Sadhana, and there they were—two fruits growing on just one tree among more than twenty. I could not help feeling that this unusual sight carried a special significance for me, as if Maa Herself were present there to bless me in a divine and unusual way.

“Sometimes, the smallest things in nature hold the deepest spiritual meanings.”

Perhaps the lesson was not about receiving a particular reward or finding a sign exactly as I expected. It was about remaining receptive to the ways in which the Divine may choose to express grace. We often imagine what a blessing should look like, but the Divine may have an entirely different way of reaching us.

Those two bel fruits became a beautiful reminder that the spiritual and physical worlds are not always as separate as they appear. When approached with devotion and an open heart, even an ordinary sight in nature can become an occasion for reflection and wonder.

The Divine does not always give us what we ask for; sometimes, it shows us what we were meant to notice. 

Pic 1: AI Generated

Pic 2: Pixabay

Embraced by Divine Nature

“My mobile has switched off! Oh God! How will I be able to complete the Sadhana that I was following on it?” I wondered, sitting on a bench near a chai shop. I had been told that once a Sadhana is started, one should not get up before completing it.

It was Chhoti Deepawali in 2023. I was staying at an Ashram and performing two different Sadhanas on two different mobile phones. One was a new iPhone and the other an old iPhone, and both had different network connections. The new phone received good signals within the Ashram premises, but the old one did not. Since I had to perform Surya Sadhana on my old phone, I went outside the Ashram in search of a place where it could receive a good network connection.

After wandering around for quite some time, I finally found a small tin shed belonging to a chai wala, just outside the Ashram gate. To my relief, my old mobile started receiving signals there. However, searching for a network had consumed almost all its battery.

It had rained the previous day, and almost everything around me was wet. I was wondering where to sit and perform my Sadhana when the shopkeeper kindly offered me a bench near his shop. He even wiped it with a cloth so that I could sit comfortably. I settled down and began my practice.

Unfortunately, my mobile switched off after I had completed only a couple of steps of the Sadhana on the app. This was the first time I was performing this Sadhana, and I had been practising it for barely a week. Its steps were quite elaborate and difficult to remember. I could hardly recall them all, so I had no option but to continue as much as I could from memory.

I continued chanting and doing japa without the help of my mobile. Gradually, my mind became quiet, my body grew still, and I experienced a deep sense of peace.

As I sat there in silence, something unusual happened. I felt as though I was being embraced by Mother Nature. A small bird, about the size of a bulbul, came and perched on my head! It then hopped from my head to my back, somehow managing to balance itself there. I remained still and allowed it to sit peacefully.

It was such a beautiful and unexpected moment. I felt no fear or discomfort, only a sense of peace and closeness to nature. I felt one with nature. For a while, it seemed as though the little bird and I were sharing the same stillness.

The next morning, on Deepawali, I found a place at a slightly higher level near the roadside and resumed my Surya Sadhana.

As I continued my practice, Surya Dev slowly rose between the mountains. His beautiful rays spread across the surroundings, filling the morning with warmth and light. Everything seemed to turn golden. The mountains and trees were bathed in golden sunlight, creating a breathtaking sight. I sat there, enjoying the beauty of the rising Sun and feeling as though I was sitting in the lap of Mother Nature.

A verse from the Shri Rudram came to my mind:

असौ यस्ताम्रो अरुण उत बभ्रुः सुमङ्गलः ।
ये चैनं रुद्रा अभितो दिक्षु श्रिताः सहस्रशोऽवैषां हेड ईमहे ॥ ७ ॥

Meaning:

That auspicious Divine One, who appears copper-red at first, then reddish and later golden yellow, is none other than Rudra, whose divine presence shines in the Sun. We bow to Him and pray that the anger of the countless Rudras who dwell in all directions around Him may be pacified and that their grace may prevail.

The rising Sun, with His changing hues and golden radiance, seemed to bring the words of this sacred verse alive before my eyes. I felt blessed to witness such beauty while performing my Sadhana.

Sometimes, what appears to be an obstacle turns out to be an opportunity to experience something beautiful. That Deepawali, I learnt that Sadhana does not depend on mobile phones or apps. All it needs is a sincere heart and a quiet mind.

Jai Surya Dev!

Pic : AI Generated

A Glimpse of Maa Tripurasundari's Enchanting Eyes

 

“What beautiful eyes! So enormous, so captivating! Truly, I have never seen such eyes before!”

These were the words that spontaneously arose in my heart when I had a glimpse of Maa Tripurasundari during meditation on Her Panchadashi Mantra in the early hours of 7 July 2025.

I had never witnessed eyes of such extraordinary beauty. They were exceptionally large, almost as though they held the entire universe within their gaze. Their magnificence was beyond anything I had ever seen or imagined. They reminded me of the large, expressive, almond-shaped eyes and frontal gazes depicted in Jamini Roy's paintings, yet even that comparison seemed inadequate. There was something utterly unique about them.

They were not merely beautiful; they seemed alive with divine grace. Their vastness held an indescribable charm. Their gaze seemed infinitely compassionate, and their beauty left me spellbound. I cannot say whether it was their extraordinary size, their radiance or the indescribable expression in them that touched me most. I only know that I had never seen anything so magnificent.

My heart overflowed with devotion and gratitude. I felt blessed that Maa had graciously allowed me even a fleeting glimpse of Her extraordinary eyes. I had been meditating on Her mantra, but what I received was a moment of wonder that words can scarcely capture.

How beautifully Adi Shankaracharya describes the Divine Mother's eyes in the Saundarya Lahari (Verse 49):

विशाला कल्याणी स्फुटरुचिरयोध्या कुवलयैः
कृपाधाराधारा किमपि मधुराभोगवतिका ।
अवन्ती दृष्टिस्ते बहुनगरविस्तारविजया
ध्रुवं तन्नामव्यवहरणयोग्या विजयते ॥ ४९ ॥

Meaning:

O Mother! May Your magnificent eyes ever be victorious! They are vast and beautiful, auspicious and radiant, more captivating than the blue lotuses. They shower compassion, possess an indescribable sweetness and extend with extraordinary beauty. Your divine gaze is worthy of all these glorious names.

The Bhagavad Gita (10.41) reminds us:

यद्यद्विभूतिमत्सत्त्वं श्रीमदूर्जितमेव वा ।
तत्तदेवावगच्छ त्वं मम तेजोंऽशसम्भवम् ॥

"Whatever is glorious, beautiful and magnificent in this world springs from but a spark of My splendour."

How can one describe the beauty of the Divine Mother, whose splendour is beyond the reach of ordinary words and imagination?

I do not know why Maa chose to bless me with this glimpse. I can only bow to Her with gratitude and pray that Her divine grace may always remain upon me.

Jai Maa Tripurasundari!

A Game of Hide-and-Seek

As I approached a stack of bricks during my morning walk, I noticed a little boy hiding behind it. He peeped out, looked at me, and quickly hid his face again, as though he were feeling shy. A moment later, he peeped out once more.

I smiled inwardly. Was this little stranger inviting me to play a game of hide-and-seek?

He kept looking at me, waiting for a response, but I pretended not to notice his playful gestures and continued walking.

A little further ahead, I saw the scene more clearly. The boy was enjoying chips from a freshly opened packet. His young mother stood nearby, smiling, while two labourers were busy repairing the society's boundary wall, which had collapsed after the heavy rainfall a few days earlier.

I had not been particularly enthusiastic about going for a walk that morning. Air pollution in Delhi NCR had risen, and my health was not at its best. Nevertheless, I had pushed myself to step out.

Usually, before Diwali, I look around for people who might need a little help. It has become a small personal tradition of mine. This year, however, my health had made me reluctant to undertake any such activity. I had even prayed that if God wished me to help someone, He would send the right person my way.

And there he was!

Perhaps the little boy had nothing more in mind than playing hide-and-seek with a stranger. Yet, his innocent gestures and eagerness to connect touched me. He seemed to be a child who wanted to share his happiness with whoever happened to cross his path.

I decided to bring something for him. Since nutritious food can be expensive for a labourer's family, I thought of buying some fresh fruits. I also wanted to give him a toy with a string that he could pull along and enjoy playing with.

When I returned and handed over the gifts, the little boy and his mother were equally delighted. His playful curiosity had brought me to them, and now a small gesture had brought smiles to both their faces.

I had stepped out reluctantly that morning, but returned with a heart full of joy. I had prayed for an opportunity to help someone, and perhaps God answered my prayer in the most unexpected way—not through a stranger's plea, but through a little boy's playful smile.

Pic : AI Generated 

When Diyas Brought a Smile

 

As I wondered what to do with the many decorative diyas I had bought from the roadside vendor, an opportunity to pass them on came my way.

“Would you like these decorative diyas?” I asked a housekeeping staff member who was standing with a woman holding a toddler in her lap.

The man looked towards the woman and said, “She is my wife.”

She gladly accepted two diyas from me and immediately showed them to her little one. “Look how beautiful they are!” she exclaimed.

The child first smiled and then let out a little laugh. His eyes seemed to sparkle as he looked at the beautiful diyas his mother was holding. I was amazed by how responsive such a tiny child could be. His innocent smile and laughter made this small exchange memorable.

The next day, I bought a packet of building blocks for him. However, I did not know the name of the housekeeping staff member. I enquired with his supervisor, who told me his name and informed me that he was unwell and had taken the day off. “When he returns tomorrow, I will send him to your house to collect the gift,” he assured me.

The following day, the man came to collect the packet. I showed him the gift and asked whether his child had any blocks to play with. “No,” he replied.

I told him that his little one was very intelligent and adorable. He then shared a painful part of his life with me. His first child had passed away when only a few months old. This was his second child.

I was deeply touched by his story. I blessed him, saying, “God has blessed you with such a lovely child. May he always remain happy and healthy.”

He accepted my words and the little gift with gratitude. I could see how much the gesture meant to him.

I had bought those diyas at a price much higher than their market value, without knowing whether the woman's story was entirely true. Yet, when I saw the happiness on the little child's face, I felt that at least some of those diyas had found a beautiful purpose.

I had initially wondered what to do with the extra diyas. I never imagined that they would lead me to a happy little face and a heartfelt conversation with his father. Sometimes, an unexpected little exchange can make an ordinary day memorable.

Pic : AI Generated

Double the Price After Discount

“Please buy some decorative diyas from me. I have three small children to feed, and I have to repay a loan of ₹70,000. People living in these high-rise buildings think that we are rich and earn a lot of money. But the reality is that after repaying our debts, very little is left for our own needs and our family.”

A roadside woman, holding an infant wrapped in clothes in her lap, shared her story with me. Her words carried the weight of financial worries and the responsibility of raising three young children.

I had already purchased a few decorative items from her, including a huge tray for holding water or floating candles and flowers, as well as some decorative elephants. She had approached me earlier, requesting that I buy something from her. Now, hoping to sell me more, she told me about her struggles.

“How much do these diyas cost?” I asked.

“I will tell you a genuine price,” she assured me. After offering me a discount, she quoted the price.

But there was a catch. Even after the so-called discount, the price was almost double the market rate!

For a moment, I wondered whether I should point this out to her. Yet, looking at the infant in her lap and thinking about the three children she had to feed, I decided to buy a few packets of decorative diyas. Perhaps her story was true; perhaps she had exaggerated her difficulties to make a sale. I had no way of knowing.

I was not entirely comfortable with the price, but I wanted to support her in whatever small way I could. After all, behind every roadside stall is a person trying to make a living, often without the security of a regular income.

As the saying goes, “No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.” These words, often attributed to Aesop, remind us that even a small gesture can carry meaning.

However, as I returned home, a practical question came to mind: What would I do with so many decorative diyas? I had no real need for them, and I wondered why I had bought so many in the first place.

The story continues here.

Pic : AI Generated