Missing Anandam 2.0 feels like a wound beyond words. Yesterday, I was deeply engaged in austerities at home — hosting guests, fulfilling duties, and keeping my mind steady. And yet, even amidst all of that, a part of me was constantly mindful of what was unfolding in Pune. At a subtle level, I was connecting with the Panchatattva, almost as though my spirit was there in Nandu Hall while my body remained here.
This morning, when I woke up to the glimpses of videos and images shared by a dear friend, and when a few therapists reached out saying they missed my presence, emotions surged within me. My teacher and a few senior therapists too had asked me to come, and when they learned the reason for my absence, they understood the pain I carried within. That acknowledgment itself felt like a blessing — as though my longing and sincerity were also a tribute to my study, a silent offering in their own way.
Still, a question lingers within — what mistake did I make that I couldn’t attend this gathering? Did I not put in the honest efforts these past two years? Was I selfish somewhere that the five elements withheld their grace? These thoughts keep arising, pricking my heart with a quiet ache.
And yet, life weaves its own design. Coincidentally, we have a family function today — another form of austerity through kirtan. Perhaps this too is divine arrangement. Somewhere, the Lord and the Panchatattva are blessing me in ways unseen, preparing me to step into another dimension in my journey, at a more subtle and inward level.
Even from afar, Anandam 2.0 stirred something in me. Just thinking of the energy that must have filled Nandu Hall makes my heart throb with both sadness and reverence. Perhaps this longing itself is my offering, my invisible bridge to what I missed.
