01. Truth knows no color.
“Satyameva Jayate” – Truth alone triumphs. This profound declaration from the Mundaka Upanishad is not merely a national motto for India; it is a timeless philosophical assertion that positions truth as the ultimate, unconquerable force. Yet, we live in an age often described as ‘post-truth’, where objective facts are less influential in shaping public opinion than appeals to emotion and personal belief. The adage, “Truth knows no color,” serves as a powerful antidote to this predicament. It posits that truth, in its purest form, is universal, objective, and impartial. It is not shaded by the hues of ideology, religion, caste, language, or political convenience. This essay will examine the various forces that attempt to ‘color’ truth, the consequences of such distortions on our historical, political, and social fabric, and the imperative to uphold the sanctity of unvarnished truth for a just and progressive society.
The most contested canvas for coloring truth is history. As Mark Twain caustically remarked, “The very ink with which all history is written is merely fluid prejudice”. In India, this is evident in the perpetual debates surrounding historical figures and eras. The narratives around personalities like Tipu Sultan, Savarkar, and Aurangzeb are often distorted, with inconvenient details “conveniently elided” to fit neat ideological frameworks, giving rise to a discipline of “pseudohistory”. A glaring example of this is the recent rationalisation of NCERT textbooks, where the selective deletion of chapters on Mughal courts, while retaining those on the Vijayanagara Empire, has been flagged for its “communal undertones” and for imposing a “problematic idea of a ‘Hindu’ era, ‘Muslim’ era”. Such actions color the truth presented to young minds, perpetuating a version of the past that serves a present political agenda rather than historical accuracy.
This coloring of truth extends deeply into the political and governance sphere. In the pursuit of power, political narratives often rely on half-truths, misinformation, and propaganda. The proliferation of “fake news,” especially through social media, has become a significant challenge, prompting the government to establish “fact-check units”. However, such state-run units themselves carry the risk of becoming instruments of control, creating a chilling effect on free speech and turning the government into the “judge, jury, and executioner on the authenticity of any information”. Political discourse often exploits societal fault lines, using religious polarisation and caste identities for electoral gain. This is a betrayal of the constitutional truth, which imagines India as a secular republic where every citizen is equal, irrespective of their creed or origin.
The social fabric of India, with its immense diversity, provides fertile ground for truth to be refracted through multiple prisms of identity. Language, a core component of culture, often becomes a flashpoint. The passionate and sometimes violent agitations against the perceived “imposition of Hindi” reveal how linguistic identity can shape perceptions of policy and national unity. While the Constitution is clear that India has “official languages” and not a “national language”, a contrary narrative is often pushed, coloring the truth for political ends. Similarly, religious identity often dictates access to social justice, as seen in the debates surrounding reservation for Dalit converts, a matter examined by the Ranganath Misra Commission. In this fractured landscape, ideals like Guru Nanak’s teaching, “There is no Hindu and no Mussalman”, and the national pledge that “All Indians are my brothers and sisters”, represent a call for the colorless truth of shared humanity and fraternity that transcends divisive identities.
However, the assertion that truth is singular and absolute is not without its complexities. The existence of an essay titled Three Hundred Ramayanas, which describes numerous retellings of the epic, suggests that stories and cultural narratives can possess multiple truths and perspectives. A film like The Kashmir Files may present one version of truth, but critics argue that it consciously avoids the “ambiguities and complexities of a problem that has no single truth”. This introduces a crucial nuance: while empirical facts should be objective, lived experiences and cultural interpretations can be plural. The goal, then, is not to impose a single narrative but to seek a “negotiated truth” through honest dialogue, empathy, and a rigorous examination of facts.
The pursuit of this objective truth is the mandated function of our key institutions. The judiciary is the ultimate arbiter of constitutional truth, science seeks empirical truth, and bodies like the Union Public Service Commission (UPSC) are designed to find the truth of merit. Yet, these institutions are not infallible. When examination systems are compromised by paper leaks and malpractices, the very foundation of meritocracy is shaken, and faith in the system’s ability to find truth collapses. It underscores that the process of discovering truth must itself be colorless—transparent, fair, and untainted by corruption or bias.
In conclusion, the ideal that “Truth knows no color” is a moral and intellectual compass essential for navigating our complex world. While historical narratives, political agendas, and social identities constantly seek to paint truth in their preferred shades, the fundamental tenets of justice, equality, and human dignity remain universal. A powerful metaphor from the sources states that just as cows of different colors yield milk that is invariably white, the inner essence (atma) of all beings is the same. Similarly, the essence of truth remains pure and untainted, regardless of the filters through which it is presented. To uphold this uncolored truth is the highest dharma for a civilization. It is a continuous struggle that requires intellectual honesty, civic courage, and an unwavering commitment to the belief that falsehood, no matter how many times repeated, “will never become truth”.
2. The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.
The ancient Chinese military strategist Sun Tzu, in his timeless treatise The Art of War, posited that “the supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting”. This profound aphorism transcends the literal battlefield, advocating for a victory achieved not through bloodshed and destruction, but through superior strategy, psychological dominance, and the artful application of non-kinetic power. In an interconnected 21st century, where the costs of conventional warfare—human, economic, and geopolitical—are catastrophically high, Sun Tzu’s wisdom has acquired unprecedented relevance. The supreme art of war is no longer merely about military conquest; it is about shaping the environment, influencing adversaries, and achieving national objectives through a masterful blend of diplomacy, economic statecraft, strategic deterrence, and moral suasion. This principle finds expression in global diplomacy, modern military doctrines, and even in the Gandhian ideals that shaped India’s own struggle for freedom.
In the realm of international relations, the art of subduing an enemy without combat is the very essence of modern diplomacy and statecraft. The Cold War serves as a quintessential example: a protracted global struggle between two superpowers that, despite numerous proxy wars, avoided direct, cataclysmic conflict through a complex chess game of deterrence, espionage, alliances, and intense propaganda warfare. Today, this art has evolved into geo-economic statecraft. Nations increasingly wield economic instruments as their primary weapons. Trade sanctions, tariff wars, control over critical supply chains, and strategic investments are potent tools to weaken a rival’s economy and coerce policy changes. The ongoing US-China rivalry, characterized by trade and technology wars, is a testament to this shift, where battles are fought on balance sheets and in boardrooms rather than on battlefields.
India’s foreign policy, particularly in recent years, has increasingly reflected this philosophy. By championing “strategic autonomy”, India refuses to be drawn into zero-sum alliances, thereby preserving its diplomatic space to engage with multiple power blocs. Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s assertion that “this is not an era of war” has become a cornerstone of India’s global positioning, advocating for dialogue and diplomacy (samvad and sahyog) as the only viable paths to resolving conflicts like the one in Ukraine. While India’s abstentions at the UN have drawn criticism, they are framed as a principled stance to keep channels of communication open, positioning India as a potential peacemaker and a voice for the Global South, thereby subduing criticism and enhancing its soft power.
The nature of warfare itself has transformed, embracing Sun Tzu’s preference for indirect strategies. Modern military doctrines are increasingly focused on non-kinetic and hybrid warfare. China has explicitly integrated this ancient wisdom into its "Three Warfares" strategy, which employs psychological, media, and legal battles to achieve strategic objectives without direct military confrontation. The concept of “grey-zone” warfare—actions that remain below the threshold of conventional war—has become a new normal, seen in China’s actions in the South China Sea and along the Line of Actual Control (LAC). These conflicts are fought through cyber-attacks on critical infrastructure, disinformation campaigns to sow chaos, and economic coercion, all designed to weaken an adversary’s resolve and capabilities from within.
India’s response is also evolving to meet this challenge. The establishment of integrated theatre commands, the focus on cyber and space defence, and the drive for Atmanirbharta (self-reliance) in defence are all geared towards building a credible deterrence. A fascinating initiative, ‘Project Udbhav’, seeks to rediscover India’s own ancient strategic wisdom from texts like Kautilya’s Arthashastra, which, much like Sun Tzu’s work, emphasizes statecraft, alliances, and intelligence as tools superior to outright war. Kautilya argued for using different policies (sama, dana, bheda, danda) and understood that soft power and diplomacy were crucial components of national strength. While direct military action sometimes becomes unavoidable to counter aggression, as seen in the surgical strikes or the response to the Galwan clashes, these are increasingly framed as deterrent actions—a demonstration of resolve intended to prevent a larger, more destructive war. The recent ‘Operation Sindoor’ was described as a “measured, non-escalatory, proportionate, and responsible” military action to deter future terror attacks, not to conquer territory.
Beyond statecraft, this principle resonates deeply with India’s own history of anti-colonial struggle. Mahatma Gandhi’s philosophy of Satyagraha is perhaps the most profound real-world application of subduing a powerful enemy without fighting. He weaponized non-violence, truth, and civil disobedience to challenge the moral and political legitimacy of the British Empire. By refusing cooperation and willingly suffering the consequences, the freedom fighters made India ungovernable and morally indefensible for the British, forcing the world’s mightiest empire to retreat without a single major armed revolution. It was a war of position, a hegemonic struggle for the "minds and hearts of the Indian people," which aimed to destroy the belief in British invincibility and benevolence.
The wisdom of choosing intellect over brute force is also embedded in Indian culture and mythology. The story of Lord Ganesha winning a divine contest by circumambulating his parents—the source of his world—instead of physically racing around the globe, is a powerful metaphor for this supreme art. It is a victory of wisdom over might, of strategy over speed.
In conclusion, the adage “the supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting” is a holistic philosophy of power, influence, and victory. It is the art of the diplomat who forges peace through dialogue, the strategist who deters aggression through credible strength, the leader who wins over people through moral force, and the individual who conquers conflict through wisdom. While the world will always face conflicts, and nations must be prepared to defend their sovereignty with force when forced to, the ultimate triumph lies in creating conditions where such force becomes unnecessary. In a world grappling with complex challenges, from climate change to terrorism, this ancient wisdom guides us towards a more sustainable form of victory—one that builds peace, preserves life, and transforms adversaries into partners, truly embodying the Indian ideal of Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam—the world is one family.
3. Thought finds a world and creates one also.
The human mind is a unique crucible, possessing the dual capacity to both perceive and shape reality. The aphorism, “Thought finds a world and creates one also,” encapsulates this profound duality. On one hand, thought is the lens through which we observe, analyse, and comprehend the existing world—the realm of science, history, and philosophy. On the other, it is the architect’s blueprint, capable of imagining and constructing new realities, be they artistic masterpieces, technological marvels, or new socio-political orders. This essay will explore this dynamic interplay between thought as an interpreter and a creator, arguing that the progress of civilisation is a testament to this powerful synergy, drawing upon India’s rich intellectual, cultural, and political tapestry.
The primary function of thought is to find and make sense of the world we inherit. This perceptive capacity is the bedrock of all knowledge systems. Ancient Indian philosophy, with its six orthodox schools like Samkhya and Vaisheshika, was a monumental effort to understand the nature of reality, from the creation of the universe to the classification of material elements. This quest is mirrored in modern science, where systematic thought and observation allow us to unravel the mysteries of the cosmos and the building blocks of life. Historians, too, engage in this act of finding, carrying on a “constant dialogue between the past and the present” to reconstruct our collective memory, however imperfectly. Journalism chronicles “instant history”, providing a first draft of the world as we find it. Education, particularly as envisioned in the National Education Policy (NEP) 2020, seeks to hone this very faculty by fostering critical thinking, moving beyond rote learning to an analytical understanding of the world.
However, the more transformative power of thought lies in its ability to create. Thought does not merely reflect the world; it actively forges new ones. This is most vividly illustrated in the realm of art and literature. Salman Rushdie’s novel Victory City provides a powerful metaphor, where the protagonist, a blind poet, literally whispers an entire city and its history into existence, powerfully demonstrating that “Words are the only victors”. Fiction, as a product of thought, gives us “imagined worlds” that can critique existing realities and offer alternatives. A writer’s imagination can even conceive of alternate histories, such as a sci-fi version of India occupied by aliens, thereby creating a new world to reflect on our own. This creative impulse is not limited to words; it extends to all art forms, which are seen as a “manifestation of cultural diversity” and a way of shaping our collective imagination.
This creative faculty is also the engine of scientific and technological progress. Every invention, from the wheel to the microchip, began as a thought. In our time, Artificial Intelligence (AI) stands as the ultimate testament to thought creating a new world. Born from human intellect, generative AI can now create novel content, from media to dangerously inaccurate "hallucinations," with simple text prompts. This thought-driven innovation is what India seeks to harness through ambitious missions like the National Green Hydrogen Mission, the push to become a semiconductor hub, and the vision of a trillion-dollar digital economy, all aimed at creating a new economic reality.
Perhaps the most potent arena for thought as a creator is in the socio-political sphere. Nations themselves are imagined communities, born from powerful ideas. India’s freedom struggle was not just a political battle but a battle of ideas, animated by thoughts of Swaraj (self-rule), Swadeshi (self-reliance), and a unique, pluralistic nationalism. The Indian Constitution is the ultimate created reality, a document that sought to translate the “dreams and aspirations” of its makers into a tangible political and social order. The thoughts of visionaries like Mahatma Gandhi, B.R. Ambedkar, and Jawaharlal Nehru became the bedrock of a new nation, fusing liberal democracy with social justice. Today, grand ideas like ‘Viksit Bharat’ @ 2047 and philosophies like ‘Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam’ (“One Earth, One Family, One Future”) are thoughts intended to create a new national and global reality, demonstrating that progress is first imagined, then realized.
The processes of finding and creating are not mutually exclusive; they exist in a dynamic, cyclical relationship. We find a world riddled with problems, and this perception inspires us to create a better one. The perception of colonial oppression (finding a world of injustice) gave birth to the thought of a free India (creating a new political entity). The observation of caste-based discrimination led thinkers like Jyotiba Phule and Ambedkar to create philosophies and movements for social equality. Similarly, our scientific understanding of the climate crisis (finding a world in peril) is driving the creation of new green technologies and sustainable development models. The creative potential of a researcher lies in this very synthesis: observing the world to find a problem, then using imagination to create a solution.
In conclusion, the statement “Thought finds a world and creates one also” is a profound summary of the human condition. Our intellect allows us to be students of reality, to understand the universe we inhabit. But our imagination empowers us to be its co-creators. Thought is both the mirror that reflects the world and the hammer that shapes it. This duality confers upon us a great responsibility. The thoughts we choose to nurture—whether they are of division and hate or of unity and progress—will determine the worlds we create for future generations. As India moves towards its centenary, the vision of a ‘Viksit Bharat’ remains a powerful thought. Its transformation from an idea into a lived reality will depend on our collective capacity to think creatively, act decisively, and build a world that reflects our highest aspirations.
4. Best lessons are learnt through bitter experiences.
The English author Aldous Huxley once remarked, "Experience is not what happens to a man; it is what a man does with what happens to him." This sentiment lies at the heart of the age-old adage that the best lessons are learnt through bitter experiences. Life, in its vast tapestry, weaves threads of joy and sorrow, success and failure, comfort and adversity. While moments of happiness certainly enrich our existence, it is often in the crucibles of hardship—the bitter experiences of failure, loss, and suffering—that the most profound and enduring lessons are forged. These experiences, though unwelcome, serve as powerful catalysts for individual growth, societal evolution, and historical progress, shaping character and wisdom in ways that comfort seldom can.
On an individual level, bitter experiences are the primary architects of resilience and empathy. The human psyche is moulded not by the ease of the journey, but by the storms it weathers. When an aspirant burns the midnight oil for years, only to miss the cut-off for the Civil Services Examination by a whisker, the initial despair is immense. Yet, this failure often becomes a profound lesson in perseverance, strategy refinement, and emotional fortitude. Gamini Singla, who failed her first Prelims, channeled her experience into a strategy that earned her an All-India Rank of 3 in a subsequent attempt. Such setbacks teach humility, forcing a re-evaluation of one's methods and fostering a deeper understanding of one's limitations and strengths. Similarly, personal tragedies, such as the loss of a loved one or a severe health crisis, while devastating, can recalibrate one's perspective on life, instilling a profound appreciation for relationships and time. The crucible of poverty has taught many the invaluable lesson of resourcefulness and the importance of financial security. It is through navigating such hardships that empathy is born; having known true suffering, one is better able to understand and connect with the pain of others.
At the societal level, collective calamities often serve as the most potent drivers of reform and progress. History is a testament to the fact that societies evolve most rapidly in the aftermath of crises. The COVID-19 pandemic, a bitter global experience, exposed the fragility of public healthcare systems, the inequities in global supply chains, and the dangers of misinformation. The lessons learned have spurred unprecedented innovation in vaccine technology, a renewed focus on public health infrastructure, and a global dialogue on pandemic preparedness. Similarly, man-made and natural disasters, such as the Bhopal Gas Tragedy or recurrent hooch tragedies, have led to stringent industrial safety norms and stricter regulations, respectively. The recurring, tragic instances of competitive examination paper leaks in India, a bitter experience for lakhs of aspirants, have ignited a nationwide debate on the need for systemic reforms in our examination bodies to ensure transparency and fairness. These collective traumas, though scarring, force societies to confront their systemic weaknesses and legislate for a safer, more equitable future.
Historically, nations and civilizations have been shaped by their most arduous trials. The Indian freedom struggle was a long and bitter experience of colonial oppression, which not only forged a unified national identity but also instilled the democratic and secular values that became the bedrock of the Indian Constitution. The horrors of the Partition, a wound that still lingers, taught India the invaluable and painful lesson of the consequences of communal hatred, reinforcing its commitment to pluralism. In the realm of foreign policy, the 1962 war with China was a bitter lesson in geopolitical realities, which led to a significant overhaul and modernization of India's military and a more pragmatic approach to international relations. Even the dark period of the Emergency served as a stark reminder to the citizenry about the fragility of democratic freedoms, strengthening their resolve to protect them fiercely in the years that followed. These historical turning points underscore that progress is often born from the ashes of adversity.
However, to claim that bitter experiences are the only path to wisdom would be a gross oversimplification. Learning is a multifaceted process that also thrives on mentorship, education, and the joy of discovery. One can learn vicariously from the mistakes of others, through the guidance of a teacher, or from the pages of a book. Wisdom does not necessitate suffering. Moreover, not all who endure hardship emerge wiser or stronger. For many, bitter experiences can lead to unresolved trauma, cynicism, or destructive behaviour, particularly in the absence of a robust support system. The alarming rate of student suicides in coaching hubs like Kota is a tragic testament to the fact that relentless pressure and failure, without adequate emotional support, can break rather than build character. Therefore, the lesson is not inherent in the experience itself, but in the individual's or society's capacity for reflection, resilience, and constructive response.
In conclusion, while knowledge can be acquired through various means, the most indelible and transformative lessons are often etched into our consciousness by the sharp chisel of adversity. Bitter experiences, from personal failures to collective tragedies, strip away the superfluous, revealing fundamental truths about ourselves and the world. They compel growth, foster resilience, and drive progress in a way that comfort and ease cannot. The pain of the experience is temporary, but the wisdom it imparts can be eternal. The ultimate measure of character, for both an individual and a society, is not the avoidance of hardship, but the ability to learn from it, turning the deepest wounds into the most profound sources of strength and enlightenment.
5. Muddy water is best cleared by leaving it alone.
The ancient Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu, in the Tao Te Ching, offers a profound insight: “Do you have the patience to wait till your mud settles and the water is clear?” This simple observation from the natural world serves as a powerful metaphor for navigating the complexities of human affairs. The adage, “Muddy water is best cleared by leaving it alone,” encapsulates a philosophy of strategic patience, non-interference, and allowing for natural resolution. In a world that often prizes decisive, immediate action, this maxim challenges us to recognise that in many intricate situations—be it international diplomacy, domestic governance, social conflict, or personal turmoil—the most effective intervention is often a deliberate, thoughtful inaction. Hasty interference can stir the sediment further, obscuring the path to clarity, whereas patience allows the particles of truth, understanding, and consensus to settle, revealing a sustainable solution.
In the realm of international relations, the wisdom of this proverb is most evident in complex geopolitical stalemates. Forceful intervention or public condemnation can often entrench opposing positions and escalate conflicts. India’s diplomatic stance on the protracted crisis in Myanmar exemplifies this principle. New Delhi has consistently advocated for an approach of “quiet and patient diplomacy,” believing that any other course would entrench the concerned parties and lead to greater instability, which would directly affect neighbours like India. This approach contrasts sharply with imposing sanctions or ultimatums, which can muddy the waters further by creating resentment and closing channels of communication. Similarly, the long-standing border disputes between India and China are not amenable to quick, aggressive fixes. Instead, the process involves a series of talks and a gradual disengagement process, allowing the turbulent sentiments to settle before a lasting resolution can be found. The recent quiet reprieve in the India-Qatar diplomatic issue, which was resolved through careful back-channel negotiations away from the public limelight, further underscores that some of the most turbid international waters are cleared not by stirring them, but by letting them settle.
This principle holds equal, if not greater, relevance in domestic governance and politics. Many administrative and political crises are initially chaotic and emotionally charged, making immediate, drastic action seem necessary. However, such knee-jerk reactions often prove counterproductive. Consider the recurring, unfortunate instances of competitive examination paper leaks in India, such as those plaguing the Telangana State Public Service Commission (TSPSC) and the NEET exams. The initial public outrage and political blame-game create intensely muddy waters, with demands for sweeping, immediate punishments. A rash response could be to scrap the entire system. However, the wiser course of action, as often followed, is to "leave it alone" in the sense of allowing a systematic investigation by bodies like a Special Investigation Team (SIT) or the CBI to proceed without interference. This period of patient inquiry allows the facts—the ‘sediment’—to settle, identifying the actual culprits and systemic flaws. Only then can a clear, effective solution, such as systemic reforms and transparent recruitment processes, be implemented, as seen in Telangana's decision to consult with the UPSC to revamp its own commission. Similarly, constitutional tussles, such as conflicts between a State government and the Governor, are best resolved through constitutional mechanisms and judicial interpretation rather than public mud-slinging that only exacerbates the crisis.
However, the proverb is a guideline, not an absolute truth. To advocate for inaction in all circumstances would be to condone injustice and neglect duty. The philosophy of leaving things alone is utterly inappropriate when faced with systemic exploitation, humanitarian crises, or environmental degradation. Issues like the persistence of manual scavenging, a practice rooted in caste discrimination, do not resolve themselves with time; they require forceful and continuous legal and social intervention. Similarly, when girls are forced into prostitution or when heinous crimes occur, inaction is complicity. The state cannot afford to "leave alone" the murky waters of crime and social evil.
Furthermore, environmental and ecological crises demand immediate and proactive intervention. Rivers choked with pollution, like the Musi or the Ganga, will not self-purify if simply left alone; they require sustained cleanup efforts, investment in sewage treatment plants, and stringent enforcement of anti-pollution norms. Urban flooding, a recurring disaster in cities like Chennai and Hyderabad, is not a natural problem that will settle, but a man-made crisis stemming from unplanned urbanisation and encroached wetlands that requires urgent infrastructural and policy correction. Disasters, whether natural like cyclones or man-made like the Bhopal gas tragedy, necessitate swift rescue, relief, and rehabilitation—the opposite of leaving things alone. In such cases, intervention is not just an option but a moral and administrative imperative.
In conclusion, the wisdom of letting muddy water clear on its own lies not in advocating for passivity, but in the discernment to know when to act and when to forbear. It champions strategic patience over impulsive reaction, and quiet diplomacy over loud confrontation. It is a call for leaders, administrators, and individuals to resist the urge to violently stir a complex problem, which only prolongs the turbidity. In many diplomatic, political, and social conflicts, allowing time for tempers to cool, facts to emerge, and dialogue to begin is the most effective way to find clarity. However, this wisdom must be balanced with a proactive resolve to tackle injustice, disaster, and decay. The ultimate test of governance is not merely the ability to act decisively, but the sagacity to understand when the most powerful action is to patiently wait for the mud to settle.
6. The years teach much which the days never know.
The American essayist Ralph Waldo Emerson penned the timeless aphorism, “The years teach much which the days never know,” a profound reflection on the nature of wisdom. In the relentless immediacy of daily life, we are often consumed by fleeting events, immediate successes, and transient failures. These are the lessons of the ‘days’—specific, factual, and often emotionally charged. However, true understanding, or the wisdom of the ‘years,’ emerges not from a single day’s experience but from the accumulated perspective of time. It is the ability to discern patterns, comprehend consequences, and grasp the deeper currents of history and human nature that only the passage of years can bestow. This principle is not merely a philosophical musing; it is a fundamental truth that shapes the trajectory of individuals, the formulation of public policy, the evolution of societies, and the arc of history itself.
On an individual level, the journey from knowledge to wisdom is paved with the passage of years. A student preparing for the formidable Union Public Service Commission (UPSC) examination may feel despair after failing a preliminary attempt—a lesson of a single, hard day. However, the years of sustained preparation teach invaluable lessons in perseverance, strategy, and emotional resilience that a single day’s success could never impart. It is over the years that an aspirant learns to connect diverse subjects, develop analytical skills, and form a balanced, optimistic perspective, which are essential not just for the exam but for a career in public service. Similarly, the experience of poverty, as one student noted, teaches life lessons that instill a profound resolve that "no one should die due to lack of money"—a conviction forged over years of hardship, not in a single day of want. Life experiences, whether in one's career or personal life, are cumulative; the true meaning and lessons are often understood only in retrospect, as one connects the dots over the years.
This long-term perspective is critically important in the domain of public policy and governance. Policies are not static events but dynamic processes whose true impact unfolds over decades. The National Education Policy (NEP) 2020, for instance, is a transformative vision for India's youth. Its success cannot be judged by the immediate administrative changes of a day but by its long-term outcomes over the years: whether it fosters critical thinking, promotes Indian languages, and creates an adaptable, skilled workforce prepared for the 21st century. Critics and proponents may debate its daily implementation, but only the years will reveal if it has truly catalysed a national educational renaissance. Similarly, India's journey with economic reforms, which began in 1991, teaches a powerful lesson of the years. The initial days of liberalisation were fraught with uncertainty and criticism, but over three decades, these reforms have transformed India into one of the world's fastest-growing major economies, a truth the days could never have predicted.
At the societal level, enduring transformations are the products of years of sustained effort, not momentary impulses. The struggle for social justice, led by visionaries like Dr. B.R. Ambedkar, was not a single day's event but a lifelong mission against centuries of entrenched caste hierarchy. His educational journey, enduring impossible challenges, teaches a lesson that spans years of perseverance. Similarly, the movement for women’s empowerment is a generational struggle. While each day brings small victories or setbacks, the cumulative progress over the years—from access to education to representation in leadership—reveals the true direction of social change. The evolution of languages and their place in society is another example; the richness of Indian literature in languages like Malayalam or Tamil is the result of centuries of cultural development, not a product of fleeting trends. The years teach a society about the strength of its pluralistic fabric and the dangers of communalism, lessons that are often painfully relearned over generations.
However, to discount the teachings of the ‘days’ entirely would be a fallacy. Days are the building blocks of years. Sudden, cataclysmic events—a pandemic, a natural disaster, or a war—can force rapid, invaluable learning in a very short time. The COVID-19 pandemic, for example, accelerated digital transformation in sectors like education and healthcare within months, a process that might have taken years otherwise. It taught the world immediate and harsh lessons about public health preparedness and global supply chain vulnerabilities. A single day's event, like the Jallianwala Bagh massacre, can become a "shameful scar" on history that galvanises a nation's freedom struggle for years to come. Thus, while the years provide perspective, the days provide the critical experiences and data points from which that perspective is built. Wisdom is not born in a vacuum; it is the thoughtful distillation of daily experience.
In conclusion, the adage that the years teach what the days never know is a profound reminder of the virtue of patience and the value of long-term perspective. While daily events provide immediate knowledge, it is the passage of time that allows this knowledge to mature into wisdom. For an individual striving for personal growth, a society aspiring for inclusive development, or a nation navigating a complex global order, this wisdom is indispensable. India's journey towards Viksit Bharat@2047 is a marathon, not a sprint. Its success will be measured not by daily headlines but by the enduring progress achieved over the coming years. By embracing the lessons of the years—learning from our history, staying committed to our long-term goals, and understanding that true progress is gradual—we can build a future that is not just prosperous, but also wise and sustainable.
7. It is best to see life as a journey, not as a destination.
“To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive,” wrote Robert Louis Stevenson, capturing a sentiment that resonates through ages and cultures. The adage, “It is best to see life as a journey, not as a destination,” is a profound philosophical guide for navigating the human experience. In a world increasingly fixated on outcomes—exam ranks, career milestones, economic targets—this maxim encourages a paradigm shift. It posits that the true richness of life is found not in the final attainment of a goal, but in the process of striving for it; in the lessons learned from failure, the joy of small discoveries, the resilience built through hardship, and the connections forged along the way. This perspective is deeply embedded in Indian philosophical traditions, which value the path of righteous action (Dharma) over the obsession with results, and it holds immense relevance for the trajectory of a nation, the functioning of its governance, and the pursuit of a meaningful individual life.
Indian philosophy has long conceptualised life as a great pilgrimage. The ancient concept of the four Purusharthas—Dharma (righteousness), Artha (wealth), Kama (desire), and Moksha (liberation)—frames this beautifully. The sources describe the first three as the “ways and means” and the last as the “end result”. This implies that three-quarters of life’s purpose is the journey itself, a path that must be trodden with virtue (Dharmam Chara) and righteous conduct. The Bhagavad Gita offers the ultimate teaching on this principle through the concept of Nishkama Karma—selfless action performed without attachment to the outcome. It advises one to embrace life’s unpredictability with equanimity, remaining balanced in success and failure. This philosophy encourages engagement with the world without getting entangled, like a “pearl of water on a lotus leaf”, appreciating the journey without being desperate for the destination of Moksha. This spiritual wisdom teaches that the quality of our journey, our adherence to Dharma, is what ultimately defines a fulfilling life.
This metaphor extends powerfully to the realm of governance and nation-building. Good governance is not a state to be achieved and then forgotten; it is an “endless journey; not a one-off destination to be reached”. India’s national vision to become a ‘Viksit Bharat’ (developed India) by 2047 is a powerful destination. However, its success cannot be measured solely by reaching a certain GDP figure. The true measure lies in the journey: whether the development was inclusive, sustainable, and equitable; whether it empowered the youth, women, and farmers; and whether it was achieved in harmony with the environment. Similarly, transformative national missions like the Swachh Bharat Abhiyan are not just about declaring a village ‘Open Defecation Free’ (the destination) but about fostering a sustained behavioural change in society (the journey). The process of change is more significant than the milestone itself.
The socio-political sphere also offers potent examples of this philosophy in action. A political yatra or march, for instance, embodies this principle. The explicit focus is often on the journey itself—walking across the country, listening to people, and spreading a message of peace and harmony. The political outcome is a potential destination, but the core purpose lies in the process of engagement, in connecting with citizens, and in the "unending dialogue between the present and the past". Such journeys aim to foster unity not as a final product but as a continuous, lived experience, reflecting the idea that a nation is constantly in the making.
On an individual level, this perspective is the key to resilience and personal growth. The journey of a UPSC aspirant is a testament to this. While selection is the coveted destination, the years of preparation are a transformative journey of acquiring knowledge, building discipline, and developing emotional fortitude. Even failure becomes a stepping stone, a part of the learning process that makes one a “better version of yourself”. This focus on the process over the outcome is also seen in the rising trend of travel among senior citizens. For many, it is not about ticking places off a bucket list, but about living every moment fully, overcoming the fear that creeps in with age, and finding new purpose. Their travels are not just about seeing new places but about embarking on an inner journey of self-discovery and nostalgia. As Virginia Woolf wrote, life’s meaning is not found in a single “great revelation” but in the “little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck in the dark” that illuminate the path.
However, to completely disregard the destination is to risk an aimless, meandering existence. Destinations provide purpose, direction, and motivation. An artist’s 25-year-old dream gives shape to a seven-year-long journey of creation; a trekker’s desire to reach the summit makes the arduous climb meaningful. The philosophy, therefore, is not to be destination-less, but to not be destination-obsessed. The source aptly notes that when making a decision, “it is not just the end result that matters, but the journey as well”. The journey and the destination are intertwined; the former gives life its texture, the latter gives it a structure. The ideal is to embrace the journey with full awareness while keeping the destination in sight as a guiding star.
In conclusion, viewing life as a journey is an empowering philosophy that fosters a deeper appreciation for the present moment and builds resilience against the inevitability of change and uncertainty. It teaches us that the quality of our life is determined by how we travel, not where we arrive. From the ancient wisdom of the Gita to the modern challenges of national development and individual aspirations, this perspective remains a timeless guide. By focusing on the journey, we learn that success is not a final achievement but a continuous process of becoming, and that every end is merely the precursor to a new beginning. This understanding allows us to live more fully, transforming the struggles of life not into obstacles, but, as Pico Iyer discovered, into our very own paradise.
8. Contentment is natural wealth; luxury is artificial poverty.
The Greek philosopher Socrates famously stated, "Contentment is natural wealth, luxury is artificial poverty." This timeless aphorism cuts to the heart of the human condition, questioning our modern definitions of prosperity and destitution. In an age of hyper-consumerism and glaring inequality, where success is often measured by the accumulation of material possessions, this statement serves as a powerful critique. It posits that true wealth is not an external acquisition but an internal state of being—a sense of sufficiency that is inherent and self-sustaining. In contrast, the relentless pursuit of luxury creates a perpetual state of want, a psychological deficit that no amount of material gain can fill. This is the essence of ‘artificial poverty’: a self-inflicted state of scarcity amid plenty. This philosophy, deeply resonant with ancient Indian worldviews, holds profound implications for individual well-being, societal stability, economic models, and environmental sustainability.
The Indian philosophical tradition has long championed contentment as the ultimate form of wealth. Worldviews in Jainism, Buddhism, and Hinduism are built on the idea of transcending desire. Here, success is not defined by finding food or hoarding wealth, but by outgrowing hunger and greed. The Mahavira, or the great hero, is not one who protects wealth (vira), but one who outgrows the need for it. This perspective frames contentment not as complacency, born of insensitivity or indifference, but as a dynamic state of mind that moves from focusing on ‘sufficiency for the self’ to a perspective on ‘surplus for others’. It is a permanent state of mind, distinct from the fleeting nature of satisfaction which is tied to the fulfilment of a specific desire. This ‘natural wealth’ requires no external validation and cannot be depleted by market forces. It is the bedrock of mental peace, resilience, and genuine happiness, which, as many have realised, "does not consist in things but in thoughts".
Conversely, the pursuit of luxury manufactures an artificial and insatiable poverty. Luxury is sustained by a consumerist culture that constantly creates new desires, ensuring that the finish line of fulfilment is always receding. This creates a psychological state of perpetual insufficiency, trapping even the elite in what one source aptly calls "the cult of the eternally famished, constantly at war, fearing loss of privilege". This artificial poverty is not just a psychological state; it has devastating socio-economic consequences. It fuels the engine of inequality, a system where wealth begets more wealth, often delinked from productivity or real value creation. Studies show that in India, the top 1% holds over 40% of the nation's wealth, creating a "Billionaire Raj". This concentration of wealth at the top, driven by the desire for luxury and excess, coexists with the grim reality that more than 74% of Indians cannot afford a healthy diet, and millions have been pushed into extreme poverty. The very definition of poverty becomes skewed; a household earning just over ₹75 per day is considered above the poverty line, while an upper-caste household earning ₹2,222 a day can be deemed ‘economically weak’ for reservation benefits, highlighting the absurd relativity that luxury introduces.
The societal cost of luxury-driven consumption extends catastrophically to the environment, impoverishing our collective natural heritage. The mantra of endless growth and consumption disregards planetary boundaries, leading to the depletion of natural resources and severe environmental degradation. Recent studies explicitly establish that the greatest impact on the environment is "driven by the luxurious consumption of the richest people". This conspicuous consumption by affluent individuals is directly linked to higher carbon, water, and air pollution footprints. The felling of nearly a million trees for a development project in Great Nicobar to pander to the "filthy rich", or the over-extraction of groundwater for unsustainable lifestyles, are stark examples of how luxury for a few creates ecological poverty for all. This mindless and destructive consumption stands in direct opposition to the principle of ‘Lifestyle for Environment’ (LIFE), which calls for mindful and deliberate utilisation of resources. The ecological damage caused by luxury consumption is a debt passed on to future generations, an artificial poverty that may prove irreversible.
For a developing nation like India, the choice between these two paradigms—contentment and luxury—is at the heart of its developmental discourse. The aspirational narrative is often defined by material ambition: fancier cars and more expensive apartments. This is often framed as a necessity for growth. The Chairman of a major conglomerate famously stated that the three most important things are "growth, growth, and growth". However, this GDP-centric view is increasingly being challenged by a call for human-centric progress. A development model that leads to the police removing homeless people from sight ahead of G-20 events to project an image of affluence is fundamentally flawed. Such a model prioritises the artificial sheen of luxury over the tangible wealth of human dignity. The Indian vision of ‘Viksit Bharat’ (developed India) must be defined not just by economic indicators, but by the quality of life, social equity, and the well-being of its citizens. This requires a shift from a culture of avarice to one of atma bhakti (devotion to the self), moving from endless wants to a state of sufficiency.
In conclusion, the ancient wisdom that contentment is natural wealth and luxury is artificial poverty offers a vital corrective to our contemporary crises of inequality and unsustainability. Contentment is a regenerative, internal resource that fosters individual well-being and social harmony. Luxury, in its modern iteration, is a destructive force that creates a perpetual sense of lack, deepens social cleavages, and degrades the natural world that sustains us all. The path to a truly prosperous and sustainable future lies in redefining wealth itself—away from the artificial poverty of endless acquisition and towards the innate, abundant, and natural wealth of contentment.