The Compass of My Preferences: What I Embrace and What I Avoid
Every individual walks a path shaped by personal tastes and preferences. What I admire or enjoy might not necessarily resonate with others—even within my own family. Just as fingerprints differ, so do our inclinations. Our likes and dislikes are not just trivial matters; they reflect our values, personality, and experiences. They guide our choices and, to some extent, define our identity.
Personally, I find
deep joy in reading. But not just any reading—I am drawn to meaningful,
thoughtful, and enriching literature. I love immersing myself in books written
by great authors, poets, philosophers, and thinkers who have left an indelible
mark on humanity. Their words transcend time and space, offering wisdom,
inspiration, and reflection. Whether it’s the profound verses of a poet, the
insight of a philosopher, or the stirring stories of a novelist, such works are
more than just pages bound together—they are companions of the mind and soul.
Being in the company of such literary giants, even through their written words, brings me immense happiness and satisfaction. Their thoughts nourish my spirit and stimulate my intellect. I consider such books not just a pastime but essential food for the soul. They enrich me, broaden my perspective, and elevate my thinking. In a world that often chases fleeting pleasures, this lasting joy from reading is something I deeply cherish.
In stark contrast, I
have an intense dislike for what I consider "literary trash." Sadly,
many shelves today are flooded with sensational, shallow, or morally
questionable content. Such material might gain popularity for its entertainment
value, but I find it hollow and, at times, even harmful. I believe reading
should uplift, not degrade. Books filled with vulgarity, negativity, or
meaningless chatter are, in my view, a waste of time and a betrayal of the true
purpose of literature. I would rather not read at all than pollute my mind with
content that lacks substance or integrity.
Beyond books, my dislikes extend to certain social behaviors as well. I strongly detest flattery and sycophancy. Flatterers, those who praise others insincerely for personal gain, are not just irritating—they are dangerous. These individuals can distort the truth, mislead decision-makers, and promote mediocrity. In doing so, they harm society by creating a culture of dishonesty and superficiality. Genuine feedback, honesty, and integrity should be the foundation of all relationships—whether personal or professional. Let us all be vigilant and not fall prey to these manipulators in disguise.
In conclusion, our
likes and dislikes form the moral and emotional fabric of our personality. They
reveal what we stand for and what we oppose. I take pride in cherishing the
company of great minds through literature, and I hold strong opinions against anything
that threatens the quality of thought and integrity in society. Let us all
strive to develop good, meaningful preferences that enrich our lives and the
world around us
Seize the Day, Live Fully
Life rarely moves in a straight line. More often, it's an unexpected encounter or sudden jolt that interrupts our routine and transforms the way we see the world. Such was the case with Prince Siddhartha, whose sheltered life within the palace walls came to an abrupt awakening when he stepped out and faced the stark truths of aging, illness, and death. This 'interrupter' event sparked a profound journey—a relentless quest to understand the roots of human suffering.
What Siddhartha
eventually uncovered was a universal truth: that suffering, or dukkha, lies at
the heart of human existence. His journey led him to identify craving as the
central source of suffering, a craving stoked by the poisonous triad—ignorance
(avidya), greed or attachment (raga), and aversion or hatred (dvesha). These
forces distort our understanding of reality and keep us trapped in a cycle of
dissatisfaction and delusion.
Through years of
introspection, discipline, and meditation, Siddhartha transcended worldly
illusions and became the Buddha, the Awakened One. His awakening marked not
only a personal transformation but the foundation of Buddhism itself—a
practical philosophy grounded in insight and compassionate action.
Buddhism classifies
suffering into three main forms:
Dukkha-dukkha –
the suffering of suffering: This includes the direct pain of birth, aging,
illness, and death—experiences that all beings inevitably endure.
Viparinama-dukkha – the suffering of change: Everything changes. Relationships fade, youth
wanes, and the new loses its shine. Our attachment to permanence in an
impermanent world leads to inevitable disappointment.
Sankhara-dukkha –
the suffering of conditioned existence: This deeper, existential suffering
arises from the realization that all things are interconnected and impermanent,
giving us a constant sense of insecurity and groundlessness.
The Buddha offered a way out—not through extremes of indulgence or denial, but through moderation, clarity, and inner discipline. At the heart of his teaching lies the Four Noble Truths and the Eightfold Path, which provide a practical roadmap for liberation:
Shila (ethics):
Right action, speech, and livelihood.
Dhyana
(mental discipline): Right effort, mindfulness, and concentration.
Prajna (wisdom):
Right view and right intention.
To live well, Buddhism
urges us to examine life rather than drift through it. Much of our suffering
stems from denial—masking the reality of change, mislabelling discomfort, or
clinging to illusions. The moment we recognize these patterns, we can begin to
unbind ourselves from unhealthy attachments.
There’s no escaping
pain in life, but the degree of suffering is optional. As ancient sages have
pointed out, the dread of death—abhinivesha—can be lessened by remembering that
life is fleeting. Philosophical traditions echo this through phrases like memento
mori (“remember you must die”) or maranasati in Buddhism, which serve as
reminders of mortality.
Yet, acknowledging
death doesn’t mean renouncing joy. In fact, it sharpens our awareness of life’s
fleeting beauty. That’s why memento mori is often followed by memento
vivere—"remember to live." In other words, knowing that our time is
limited should compel us to live more fully, more presently.
This aligns with the
timeless exhortation from the Roman poet Horace: carpe diem—seize the day. It’s
a call not just to indulge, but to be fully alive to each moment, to embrace
the present with clarity, courage, and compassion.
To live mindfully,
with awareness of both life’s impermanence and its possibilities, is to truly
seize the day.
IF HE EXIST
I drive joy there was a doctor in Benaras who
spent 7 minutes in the morning and evening for mediation on God. Knowing this,
his colleagues and friends laughed at him. One day they argued that he was
wasting 7 precious minutes on something, which he had been misled into
believing. The doctor replied, “Well, if God does not exist, I agree that I am
wasting 7 minutes a day. But, if He exists? I am afraid you are wasting your
entire lifetime. I prefer to waste 7 minutes rather than a lifetime. Why should
you grudge me the 7minutes joy that I derive 4m.-
ILLUSTRATED REVIEW : 7thheaven moment of the week
IN Ipl Sam 7 delhi won the match , and totenham won europa leage captain by son 7,