Tug of war is an ancient game where two teams pull a rope in opposite directions to determine which side has more strength and teamwork. One team emerges victorious. But have you ever wondered how this game might have originated?
The Mythological Connection
In India, we learn about the Churning of the Ocean, or Samudra Manthana, where the devas (gods) and asuras (demons) churn the ocean to obtain the amrita, the nectar of immortality. During the process, poison emerged first, which was consumed by Lord Shiva, earning him the name Neelakanta (the blue-throated one). Finally, the devas were rewarded with the amrita.
This story symbolizes the interplay of effort and persistence, where good triumphs over evil with divine intervention.
Meditation: An Inner Tug of War
Have you ever tried meditation? For beginners, it’s not an easy journey. The moment one sits down and closes their eyes, unwanted memories and unresolved experiences often resurface. This can make a meditator open their eyes and struggle to continue.
The process of meditation is much like the churning of the ocean. In the beginning, negative thoughts and emotions (the “poison”) emerge. With practice, as one persists, these are gradually overcome, akin to Lord Shiva removing the negativity. Eventually, the meditator attains a state of eternal bliss, the amrita.
Would you like tips on how to make steady progress on your meditation journey? Feel free to ask!
Life’s Tug of War: Good vs. Evil
In life, the tug of war between good and evil is ever-present. It’s in the choices we make every day—whether following traffic rules, paying taxes honestly, or standing up against corruption.
Recently, I faced a challenging experience with a government department. For a project, we applied for registration, but the application was inexplicably put on hold. On the final day of approval, the officer claimed our location was unidentifiable and requested an in-person meeting, only to reject the application! Later, we discovered that the officer was deliberately delaying the process to demand a bribe.
Refusing to give in, we reapplied. Yet again, the officer delayed and, on the last possible day, requested additional proof. Determined not to succumb, I endured the inconvenience of visiting the office on New Year’s Day, leaving my children behind. After much persistence and inconvenience, the application was finally approved.
The Lessons of Persistence
In this scenario, I represented the devas, while the officer played the asuras, creating hurdles at every step. The process felt like churning—a tug of war between perseverance and obstruction. Ultimately, persistence and honesty prevailed.
What Would You Do?
How would you have handled a situation like this? Would you stand your ground, as I did, or take a different approach? Share your thoughts—I’d love to hear your perspective!
