Inkshvara

There are days when I look at the world and wonder whether renunciation is the only sensible response to it. Days when kindness is met with mockery, sincerity with suspicion, and goodwill with indifference. Days when people seem determined to wound whatever remains tender within us. Not because we have harmed them, but because our happiness unsettles them, our faith reminds them of what they have lost, or our very existence becomes a mirror they would rather avoid. On such days, I have often felt drawn towards the idea of walking away. Away from expectations. Away from disappointments. Away from the endless theatre of pride, insecurity and pretence. To leave behind the world of comparison and conflict, and seek refuge instead in silence, solitude and contemplation. Yet whenever this desire reaches its height, another thought quietly presents itself. What if the monastery is not free from human nature? What if monks, too, carry pride, jealousy, resentment and ambition? What if the robes...