Chapter Four

Somendra Ji seemed to sense my inner conflict. His eyes, warm and understanding, met mine. "Before we begin exploring happiness," he said, his voice gentle but firm, "let me set some ground rules. Shall we?"

I nodded, curious about what he meant by 'ground rules.' In my experience, these sessions usually involved a self-proclaimed guru pontificating while the audience nodded along, wallets at the ready. I couldn't help but wonder if this would be any different. After all, weren't most self-help books just glorified monologues? And didn't spiritual gatherings typically revolve around a charismatic speaker holding court while the crowd hung on their every word, desperate for enlightenment—or at least a good Instagram quote?

Despite my cynicism, I found myself intrigued. Maybe, just maybe, Somendra Ji would break the mold. But I wasn't holding my breath.

"Whatever I'm saying is a proposal," Somendra Ji began, his tone measured. "I expect you to listen to this proposal intently without bias, without referring to any other books, seminars, or references. Hear it for what it is - but do not assume it or believe in it directly. I do not expect you to just blindly accept it with faith."

His words surprised me. This was different from the usual 'trust me, I know best' approach I'd encountered before.

"Instead," he continued, "check if it is universal. That is, it does not change with place. For instance, do only you want to be happy, or do all humans in Raipur want continuity of happiness?"

I considered this for a moment. "All of them, I suppose. I don't think anyone wants to be sad ever."

Somendra Ji nodded approvingly. "Okay. Only people in Raipur, or people in Mumbai? Delhi? People in France? USA? Pakistan?"

"I see what you mean," I said, beginning to understand. "You want me to check if what you're saying applies to everyone, everywhere."

"Exactly," he smiled. "So whatever I propose, check if what I say is universal. Makes sense?"

I nodded, feeling a growing sense of engagement with this process.

"Next," Somendra Ji continued, "check if it's eternal. Is it valid for all times - future, past, or present?"

I found myself leaning in, intrigued by this methodical approach.

"Also, check if it's logical and communicable," he added. "And finally, check if it's liveable. What's the use if you just read it or listen to it, but can't apply it in your life?"

I couldn't help but chuckle. This made sense. I didn't have to blindly trust, and I could question him whenever needed. This wasn't going to be yet another lecture then. It was going to be a dialogue.

"I appreciate this approach, Somendra Ji," I said, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders. "It's refreshing to be encouraged to question and verify, rather than just accept."

Somendra Ji's eyes twinkled. "That's the spirit! Understanding comes from questioning, from engaging deeply with ideas. It's not about memorizing facts or blindly following instructions."

As we sat there on the platform, I felt a shift in my perspective. The skepticism that had clouded my thoughts earlier began to dissipate, replaced by a cautious optimism. This wasn't going to be another empty promise or quick fix. Instead, it felt like the beginning of a journey - one that would require effort and engagement on my part.

"So," I said, straightening up a bit, "where do we start?"

Somendra Ji's smile widened. "We start by understanding happiness."