Author: Priyanka Murarka

Chartered Accountant I Company Secretary I Personal blogger I Mudra Therapist I Wellness & Transformational Healing Coach I Spiritual Seeker

Categories
Personal Triumph Uncategorized

A Close Call, Handled Carefully

My father forgot his mobile phone in an auto.
When he realized it, he called the driver and requested him to return the phone and take the commuting cost. The driver refused.

My father then called me.

I spoke to the driver myself and politely asked the same thing. He again refused and instead asked me to come to a specific location. The name of the place itself felt suspicious. He also created pressure by saying that if I did not come within a short time, he would not return the phone.

I felt uneasy, but I did not have many choices.

Before going, I informed people. I tried calling a friend who lived nearby, but he was unavailable. I thought of calling my sisters. I considered a video call and then decided that visibility was important, so I chose to go live on Facebook for my safety.

When I reached the location, I saw a group of men who made me feel unsafe. They asked me to get down from the auto and come closer to talk to them. I refused. I did not engage in conversation or arguments. They spoke disrespectfully about my father, which I chose not to respond to.

I clearly asked them to deliver the mobile instead of engaging further. They then demanded cash. Wanting to end the situation quickly and safely, I paid the requested amount. I was asked by them to call the phone to confirm it, took the mobile, and left immediately.

I returned home safely.

Throughout the situation, I stayed practical, alert, and focused on my safety. Only after reaching home did my body begin to react. I felt shaken, uneasy, and disturbed. This was not fear in the moment, but the release of tension after the threat had passed.

This was the first time I encountered a situation where my safety truly felt at stake. It unsettled me, not because I handled it poorly, but because it was unfamiliar. Even without prior experience, I trusted my instincts, set boundaries, avoided escalation, and chose safety over ego, money, or argument.

The situation is over.
I am home.
I carry the learning, not the fear.

Categories
Healing and Spirituality

The Inner Threshold of Awareness

We all carry certain thresholds in different walks of life.

From time to time, these thresholds are challenged.

What we often label as fear is actually capacity waiting to be expanded.

Nature has its own quiet way of teaching us this. Often, we seek inspiration or guidance in the wrong spaces, places that are limited. And so, we keep moving in circles.

Like a volcanic eruption or a tsunami, when pressure builds in the inner world, it eventually bursts. That outburst is not destruction alone; it is accumulated inner suffering seeking transformation.

What feels like a breakdown is often the psyche saying; this boundary no longer fits who you are becoming.

Thresholds are the limitations we carry as humans, set consciously or subconsciously through past impressions. Otherwise, we are unlimited beings.

Awareness doesn’t remove thresholds overnight; it softens them first.

With awareness, we can broaden our thresholds, or even tap into the unlimited.

Every threshold crossed in awareness returns us closer to our original, unlimited state.

Categories
Eternal Love: A Mother's Legacy

Love that walks with me beyond this realm

In those deep cries, when not just every cell but my subtle body and soul mourn… and then, within seconds, a sudden surge of calmness fills me — as if you have placed your palm on my head or held me in a loving embrace. I know it’s you.

Your love has become my inner compass — guiding me even when I lose my way.

In those moments of restlessness, when I seek answer through various means, and the messages that come my way bring solace to my heart… it’s you.

I feel you in every shift of energy, every quiet reassurance.

In those moments when special days arrive — and knowing how I have lived them in the past with your presence around — you never miss an opportunity to surprise me without any expectation. And I am left awestruck.

You still find your way to me, just in quieter, softer ways.

In those times when I feel helpless or lose my temper, and guilt overwhelms me, and I seek divine guidance… the wise thoughts that arise within me are through you — lifting me back up.

You live in the silence between my breaths, in the wisdom that rises when I surrender.

Eternally yours, your daughter

Categories
Personal Triumph

The Unseen Side of Audit Quality

Walking the Tightrope of Audit Quality: Five Years, Countless Files, and a Journey Beyond Work

Stepping into my sixth year in audit quality review, I often pause to reflect on what this journey has truly meant. From the outside, it may seem like a too technical, sometimes checklist-driven role – but anyone who has lived this path knows it is much more — an emotional, psychological, and at times, deeply spiritual journey.

When the Reviewer Becomes the “Villain”

There are days when the way teams debate, defend, or push back makes us feel like commercial scavengers — walking behind the audit process and picking out the leftovers in the name of “quality.”

And that perception hurts.

Because our intention is never to tear down someone’s work.
Our purpose is to protect the integrity of the audit.
Yet the moment findings affect grading or profitability, the energy shifts — eyes turn cold, voices stiffen, and the resistance becomes visible.

Even when we understand the reaction, it drains something inside.

Every File, Every Team — A New Battlefield

One of the toughest parts of this role is that nothing repeats.

No two files, teams, or issues are ever the same.
Every audit has its own:

  • style
  • challenge
  • personality
  • energy

And every time, we walk in as the ones who “point out the flaws.”

It takes strength.
It takes patience.
It takes a thick skin.

The Spiritual Weight of the Work

The fatigue is often not physical — it is spiritual.
I sometimes find myself wondering:

  • “Is this a karmic cleansing?”
  • “Am I carrying the negative energy of those who benefit from my work?”
  • “Is the universe asking me to grow stronger?”

This role often feels like a karmic exchange.
We carry the weight of:

  • teams’ mistakes
  • partners’ fears
  • managers’ defensiveness
  • stakeholders’ pressure

And maybe each conflict, each pushback, is reshaping us — refining intuition, deepening resilience, sharpening clarity.

From Fast-Paced Systems to a Supportive Ecosystem

Having worked in large, structured audit institutions, I was accustomed to high expectations, strong processes, and intense review cycles. Stepping into my current role, I expected the same rhythm — and I found it, but with an added layer I hadn’t experienced before:

Genuine collaboration.

Here, discussions feel constructive.
Support is real.
And growth is encouraged.

The work, however, remains challenging — the pushback, the debates, the draining conversations.
Only now they don’t break me.
They upgrade me.

Each file takes me to the next version of myself.

A Journey of Growth — Beyond the Role

Audit quality is often mistaken for a watchdog function.
But for those inside it, it becomes:

  • a mirror
  • a test
  • a transformation
  • a purification
  • emotional training
  • a lesson in courage

Some days feel like karmic cleaning.
Some days feel like invisible battles for the firm.
Some days feel like standing alone.

But every single day, it makes me stronger, clearer, grounded, and more aligned with my truth.

Perhaps that is the real purpose of this role — far beyond grades or documentation.

Audit quality is not just about the files I review, but the person I’m becoming through each one.
If this journey is cleansing old karmas, so be it.
If it is shaping resilience for the future, I welcome it.

Because every challenge leaves me a little calmer, a little wiser, and a little more aligned with my purpose.

Categories
Personal Triumph

Watching You Fade, Loving You More Deeply

I realise you’ve been going through so much — more than I can ever imagine. I still remember how active you once were, walking with such energy that as a child, I felt I was running just to keep up.

You gave your heart and soul to your business, and when life took that away, it also took a piece of your spirit. You had dreams of studying further, of growing and learning more, but life demanded otherwise. Then it took your parents, your beloved brother, and finally, Mum.

There are days when I feel shattered… as if my world has crumbled into pieces.
When Mum left, a part of me went silent forever — and now, watching you fade in your own way, that silence deepens.

It’s like watching the pillars of my world slowly dissolve, one after another — the ones who gave me strength, belief, and unconditional love.

I try to remind myself that perhaps, beneath this pain, life is teaching me the art of surrender — to love without holding, to serve without expecting, to accept without breaking.

Yet still… my heart aches.
I miss her deeply, and I fear losing you too.

My heart aches when I see you walking slowly now, with pain and effort. When you raise your voice, I understand — it’s not anger, it’s the echo of a silent cry within.

I feel helpless at times, unsure how to ease your suffering. Watching our parents grow old and weary is one of the hardest truths to accept. I silently pray for your peace, happiness, good health, and joy.

I try, beyond my responsibilities, to be there for you — yet it often feels like I fail, like I’m not doing enough for my own dad.

Maybe this pain is a lesson — something life is trying to teach me, a truth I haven’t yet understood but deeply need to.
I just wish I could take away all your suffering.

I love you, Dad.  ❤

Categories
Personal Triumph

A Generation of Less, Yet More

I belong to a generation…

A generation that knew life without mobile phones or the internet.
Where homes often ran on DC current,
and days or nights without electricity were common.
We prayed instead of complaining,
and resilience was not taught—it was natural.

A generation where play was pure—
Hide and seek, lock and key, cricket, book cricket, carom, seven stones, ludo, corner-corner, kitchen set, skipping rope/jump rope, Antakshari, kho-kho, kabaddi, paper boats/paper planes, stock exchange, playing cards, and WWF cards and even cricket on the roads during strikes——innocence ruled our games, and mischief ended in laughter, not hurt.

A generation where I joined a local activity club, the only girl among the boys, yet ran, played, and laughed with unfiltered joy, my mother’s gentle nod opening the way.

A generation where spirituality was nurtured since childhood. Every Tuesday, we did devotional singing together. Everyone worked as a team to prepare, and everyone got a turn to sing. Even when we didn’t understand the meaning, we sang with full heart, from start to finish, just out of innocence.

A generation that didn’t demand everything we desired.
We understood our parents’ hearts,
and quietly let go of wishes
that could weigh heavy on them.
Gratitude wasn’t taught—it was lived.

A generation where silence spoke volumes.
A glance, a smile, a gesture
carried more than words ever could.

Simple. Innocent. Content.
We found beauty in less,
and meaning in the smallest moments.

And though the world has changed,
the roots of that generation live in me—
reminding me always
that less can still mean more.

Categories
Eternal Love: A Mother's Legacy Personal Triumph

Her Light

There were many moments in my life when my belief system was shaken, and hope seemed like a distant flicker. In those moments, I always turned to Mumma. I would sit with my thoughts, reflecting on how she imparted so much strength to me—how she could find even a single ray of hope in the darkest of times, where I saw none.

Her unwavering faith in my potential carried me further than I could have imagined. Without it, I might have landed nowhere. Today, as I look at where I stand, I realize that it is because of her blessings and belief that my mind has been trained, my spirit strengthened, and my path illuminated.

I am still on my journey—far from the heights the universe envisions for me—but with every step, I strive not just for myself, but to honor her. Every achievement, every milestone, every small victory is a way to lift her higher, to make her pride and blessings shine even brighter through me.

A mother is a guiding light, and we are never too old to share our challenges and struggles with her. She is a ray of hope in the darkest moments, where everything else seems impossible. I once wondered if sharing more might have spared me some pain—but now I trust it was part of a larger plan, God’s way of preparing me and carrying forward what her presence had already begun in me.

This is my journey, and it is hers too. Through her faith, I have learned that even in darkness, there is light. And that light carries the power to shape our destiny—one step at a time.

Categories
Healing and Spirituality Personal Triumph

From the Curve of C to the Circle of Life

I’d been deliberately chasing my purpose when, unexpectedly, a childhood moment of pure awareness came rushing back. I must have been about three years old. Until then, I remember almost nothing — as if my awareness was still asleep. One day, while learning my letters, I wrote the letter C. First correctly, then incorrectly. My mother corrected me with a slap.

It was the first and the last time she ever raised her hand at me.

For me, as a little child, it wasn’t pain that stayed — it was the sudden shock, the imprint. That shock startled me awake; it became the first clear memory etched in my life.

Sometimes awareness begins not in understanding, but in surprise.

Looking back now, I see it wasn’t just about a letter. It was a spiritual initiation, a signal that my soul’s journey had begun.

Every beginning hides itself in an ordinary moment.

The C itself holds a deeper meaning. It is a semi-circle, incomplete. That curve became a symbol of longing, of incompleteness, and of the search for wholeness. What looks incomplete may be pointing us toward wholeness.

For years, I looked outward for the missing half, believing that only someone else could turn my “C” into a circle.

This longing for meaning is not new. Across time, seekers have found depth even in the simplest of things. It reminds me of Arjuna’s story:

It is said that Lord Krishna once gave Arjuna a set of precious gemstones. For Arjuna, anything that came from his Lord was divine. So he held the gems with reverence and began to reflect. Each stone, he thought, must symbolize a truth of life, a hidden lesson.

When he shared his interpretations, Krishna burst into laughter. With his playful smile, He said: “Arjuna, I only gave you gemstones. I never meant them to carry such depth. But you — with your sincerity — have drawn out meanings even I did not place there.”

Meaning is not always in what is given, but in how we choose to receive it.

In the same way, my childhood “C” — a moment of correction, a moment of awakening — became a lifelong gem. What was only a letter turned into a spiritual mirror, teaching me. Wholeness does not come from another. Completion is discovered within.

When we connect with the universal energy, we become a full circle in ourselves. And only then can we meet another — not from lack, but from fullness.

The earliest wound may be a hidden key; what once broke us open might have been the very curve guiding us toward our circle of wholeness.

The circle was never missing — it was waiting to be drawn from within.

Categories
Healing and Spirituality Personal Triumph

In the Embrace of Blessings

In the sacred observance of my mother’s Pitrpaksa ritual, I bowed to the Brahmin’s feet, not with hands but by placing my forehead upon them.

As her hands moved over me to bless, I felt something beyond the ordinary. It was as if my mother herself was caressing me – a warmth, a love, a presence filled every fibre of my being. My body trembled with the vibration of that touch, a connection so deep that words cannot capture it. In that moment, I realized that love transcends form, touch, and time.

Previously, during the Shraadh, as I served food and applied a tilak with red sacred powder, my hand trembled. The gentle touch of my ring finger carried a vibration—a subtle current that spread through me.  In that sacred instant, I felt her presence merge with mine, transcending mourning, joy, and every other emotion. It was rapture, as if my soul dissolved in her presence

Sometimes devotion is not in action but in surrender — in feeling, receiving, and recognizing the unseen energy of those who came before us.

The heart remembers what the mind can’t explain. The soul recognizes what the eyes can’t see.  Bodily emotions cannot fully convey the essence of feelings.

Categories
Personal Triumph

Anandam 2.0 – A Miss Beyond Words

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.