Sixty Seconds Would Have Been Enough

Vintage Lemania stopwatch displaying seconds, minutes, and 1/10-second scales

The Home Ministry has decided that all six stanzas of Vande Mataram, the full official version, which runs three minutes and ten seconds, must now be rendered at government functions, flag ceremonies, and civil investitures, and that it must come before Jana Gana Mana. Schools have been “urged” to sing it at morning assembly, which in Indian administrative language means they will.

Read that directive, and you can practically see the room it was written in. Wood panelling. A long table. Not one person under fifty-five. This is a decision made by people whose diaries have gaps in them, for people whose diaries do not. Let me be blunt about the arithmetic, because nobody in that room did it. The national anthem takes fifty-two seconds. The new national song takes one hundred and ninety seconds. We have just quadrupled the ceremonial standing time at every official event in the country. Multiply that by every school assembly, every college convocation, every departmental function, every parade – across 1.4 billion people – and you are looking at one of the largest voluntary donations of national productivity in recent memory. For a country that constantly talks about the demographic dividend and doing more with less, we have found a remarkable way to do less with more.

And here is the part the committee genuinely does not understand: young India is not moved by it. Not because they lack patriotism – that charge is lazy and wrong – but because a slow, solemn, Sanskritised dirge is not how this generation feels anything. They feel things in ninety-second reels, in stadium chants, in a beat that lifts the chest. Ask any twenty-year-old standing in the fourth row of an assembly what they were thinking during stanza five. They were thinking about breakfast.

So here is the alternative, and it is not a rejection of the song – it is a rescue of it.

Commission a new official rendition. Keep the words sacred, change everything else. Make it fast. Make it big. Percussion that starts on the first beat. A tempo you march to, not a tempo you endure. Voices that build rather than drone. And cap it at sixty seconds – one minute, no exceptions, no ceremonial drumroll of seven slow marching paces to warm us up first.

A.R. Rahman proved this in 1997. Maa Tujhe Salaam did more for the emotional life of that phrase in six minutes of radio play than fifty years of harmonium have managed. We know how to do this. We simply did not ask the people who know how.

Reverence is not measured in minutes. A song that thrills you in sixty seconds will be sung willingly for a century. A song that bores you for one hundred and ninety will be endured, resented, and quietly mouthed.

We had a chance to make the national song feel national again. Instead, we made it longer.

Energy Speaks Louder: On Being Genuinely Happy for Another

Blessings of Lord Shiva

We have all felt it. You share good news – a milestone, a windfall, a moment of recognition – and someone says, “That’s wonderful, I’m so happy for you.” The words are correct. The smile is in place. And yet something in you registers a flatness, a subtle withholding. The sentence arrived, but the person didn’t.

Because here is the truth we rarely say aloud: most people cannot be genuinely happy for you. Not because they are bad people, but because genuine happiness for another is not a social skill. It is a spiritual attainment.

Words can be manufactured in an instant. Energy cannot. Energy is the unedited transcript of a person’s inner state, and it speaks louder than any congratulations. When someone is at war with themselves – comparing, measuring, quietly asking “why not me?” – your good news lands on them like a verdict. Their mouth says celebration; their field says contraction. And you feel it, even if you can’t name it.

The one who can rejoice in your joy is someone in deep communion with themselves. There is no vacancy in them for envy to occupy, because they are not experiencing themselves as separate from you in the first place. Your win does not subtract from their account because, in their understanding, there is only one account.

This is where the matter becomes sacred. The Vedic seers held that the same divinity dwells in every being – Ishvara sarva bhutanam, the Lord seated in the hearts of all. When you are genuinely happy for another, you are not performing generosity. You are recognising. You are seeing God in the other — and in that very instant, seeing God in yourself. The joy is not borrowed from them; it rises from the same source in you. This is why the authentic celebration of another person feels expansive rather than depleting. It is a moment of darshan – a glimpse of the divine wearing a different face.

So the next time congratulations feel hollow, don’t take it personally. The person is simply energetically telling you how far they are from their own centre. Offer them compassion; their struggle is not with you.

And the next time you feel a clean, unforced gladness at someone else’s good fortune – pause and notice it. That lightness is not politeness succeeding. It is communion. It is the Self recognising the Self, briefly forgetting the fiction of separation.

We spend so much effort trying to appear happy for others. The deeper work is to become the kind of person for whom it is effortless – someone so at home in themselves that another’s light only reminds them of their own. That is the quiet test of spiritual maturity: not how you handle your sorrows, but how you receive another’s joy.

Energy speaks louder. Make sure yours is saying something true.

Being Productive Through Trying Times: 4 strategies to keep working

We all face challenges and difficulties in our lives, whether it’s personal, professional, or global. Sometimes, these hardships can make us feel overwhelmed, stressed, or demotivated. How can we maintain our productivity and performance when things get tough? Here are four strategies that can help you cope and keep working through trying times.

Being productive

  1. Acknowledge your emotions and seek support. It’s normal and healthy to have emotional reactions to stressful situations. Don’t ignore or suppress your feelings, but rather acknowledge them and express them in constructive ways. For example, you can talk to a trusted friend, family member, or colleague, write in a journal, or seek professional help if needed. Sharing your emotions can help you feel less alone and more understood.
  2. Focus on what you can control and let go of what you can’t. When facing hardships, it’s easy to feel powerless and hopeless. However, you can regain a sense of agency and optimism by focusing on the aspects of your situation that you can influence and change, and letting go of the ones that you can’t. For example, you can’t control the outcome of a global pandemic, but you can control how you protect yourself and others by following health guidelines. You can also control how you spend your time and energy, and what goals you set for yourself.
  3. Prioritize your tasks and set realistic expectations. When you have a lot on your plate, it can be hard to decide what to do first and how to manage your time. To avoid feeling overwhelmed and burned out, it’s important to prioritize your tasks according to their urgency and importance, and set realistic expectations for yourself and others. For example, you can use a matrix or a list to rank your tasks from high to low priority, and then focus on the most critical ones first. You can also break down larger projects into smaller and more manageable steps, and set specific deadlines for each one. Don’t forget to celebrate your progress and achievements along the way.
  4. Take care of yourself and practice self-compassion. Being productive doesn’t mean neglecting your physical, mental, and emotional well-being. In fact, taking care of yourself is essential for maintaining your energy, motivation, and resilience. Make sure you get enough sleep, eat well, exercise regularly, and engage in activities that bring you joy and relaxation. Also, practice self-compassion by being kind and supportive to yourself, especially when you make mistakes or face setbacks. Remember that you are not alone in your struggles, and that you are doing the best you can with what you have.

The Illusion of Separating Personal and Professional Life: Integrating for a More Fulfilling Experience

In this article, I argue that the separation between the personal and professional is simply a mental concept. Life is constructed by nature and is one continuum. We must weave together what we may consider personal and what we may consider work. Work is as much a part of our lives as our personal stuff is. And by integrating them, we can achieve more harmony, happiness, and fulfilment.

Many people struggle to balance their personal and professional lives. They feel stressed, overwhelmed, and guilty when they must juggle multiple roles and responsibilities. They think that they must separate their work from their life and that they have to sacrifice one for the other. But is this true? Is there such a thing as a clear-cut distinction between the personal and the professional? Or is this just a mental concept that we have created to cope with the complexity of modern life?

In this article, I argue that the separation between the personal and professional is simply a mental concept. Life is constructed by nature and is one continuum. We must weave together what we may consider personal and what we may consider work. Work is as much a part of our lives as our personal stuff is. And by integrating them, we can achieve more harmony, happiness, and fulfilment.

Photo by Kampus Production on Pexels.com

Let’s start by examining the origin of the idea of separating the personal and the professional. Historically, this idea emerged with the rise of industrialisation and urbanisation. People started to work in factories, offices, and other places that were physically separated from their homes and communities. They also started to specialise in different fields and professions that required specific skills and knowledge. As a result, they developed different identities and roles for their work and their life. They had to follow different rules, norms, and expectations in each domain. They had to switch between different modes of thinking, feeling, and behaving.

This separation was reinforced by the social and cultural values of modernity. Individualism, rationality, efficiency, productivity, competition, and achievement became the dominant ideals of work. Emotion, intuition, creativity, spirituality, cooperation, and well-being became the dominant ideals of life. Work was seen as a means to an end, a way to earn money and status. Life was seen as an end in itself, a way to enjoy leisure and happiness. Work was associated with stress and pressure. Life was associated with relaxation and pleasure.

However, this separation is not natural or inevitable. It is a social construct that we have created and maintained through our beliefs, attitudes, and behaviours. It is not based on any objective reality or universal truth. It is based on our subjective perceptions and interpretations of reality. And these perceptions and interpretations can change over time and across contexts.

In fact, there are many examples of cultures and societies that do not separate the personal and the professional as much as is done in the modern world. For instance, in many indigenous cultures, work is seen as an expression of one’s identity, purpose, and spirituality. It is not just a way to make a living, but a way to make meaning. Work is integrated with life in a holistic way. People do not work for external rewards or recognition but for internal satisfaction and contribution. They do not work against nature or other people, but with them in harmony and cooperation.

Similarly, in many Eastern cultures, work is seen as a part of one’s duty, karma, and dharma. It is not just a matter of choice or preference, but a matter of responsibility and destiny. Work is aligned with life in a moral way. People do not work for themselves or their own interests but for others and the greater good. They do not work out of ego or desire, but out of humility and detachment.

By integrating our personal and professional lives, we can create a more holistic and fulfilling experience of life. We can enjoy the benefits of both domains and leverage the synergies and opportunities that arise from them. We can also avoid the conflicts and contradictions that result from trying to maintain a false dichotomy. We can live more fully and authentically, without compromising any part of ourselves.