FROM CHAOS TO CALM
FROM CHAOS TO CALM
All over the world, people often feel that India is the most populated and the noisiest country. We Indians love noise, we love having people around us all the time. Many times, I have discussions with my friends who have been living abroad for many years. They say, "We love coming to India, we enjoy being there, but the most difficult part is the constant noise everywhere. It takes so much time to travel from one place to another. We’re so used to the silence around us that we struggle with the chaos in India." And I say, "I love being in India because all my people are around me. The noise makes me feel like I’m always surrounded by life, and I can meet or approach anyone at any time without hesitation." I believe chaos and calmness are matters of individual perception. Some people find chaos to be a nuisance, while others find it comforting. Some remain calm even in the middle of chaos, and some keep searching for calmness even when there’s peace around.
If you think about it, 66 million people found calmness in the midst of chaos by taking a dip in the divine Ganga River. Lord Krishna, along with his friends, found warmth in emotions and relationships. He loved having people around him. Even though peace came naturally to him, he would still play the flute (bansuri) to mesmerize people and draw them towards him simply so he could spread love by being with them. For him, chaos was calmness, because it gave him a way to share love.
Chaos has always had a reputation of disturbance and disruption. But over the years, I’ve realized that not all chaos is unsettling. Working with children, especially those who are hearing-impaired, has shown me a beautiful side of what many call “chaos.” I see kids laughing, signing animatedly to each other, moving around with uncontainable joy after a performance their energy is infectious. To an outsider, it may seem loud or disorderly. But I see something else a quiet confidence, a beautiful rhythm. They’re not lost in the noise; they’re expressing themselves, being seen, being celebrated. And in that whirlwind of giggles and movement, there is peace. A peace that comes from being accepted and loved just as they are.
Some of my most serene moments have come during events filled with people, music, dance, and applause. At our Hearing Hearts events, when 200+ children are gathered performing, cheering, enjoying there is a kind of harmony in that collective joy. I remember one particular dance competition where a child, after stepping off the stage, ran up to me and said with shining eyes, “Ma’am, did you see me? I did it!” That moment stayed with me. Amidst the claps, music, and cheering, there was a silent, soulful calm in that child’s sense of achievement. Calmness doesn’t always come in solitude. Sometimes, it’s nestled within celebration, in knowing that you have made someone feel proud and valued.
Recently, I traveled to Bhavnagar to visit our Kuldevi a spiritual journey I had been longing to take. Being there, in the quiet temple grounds surrounded by ancient energy, was a deeply moving experience. I took part in preparing and serving food to children as a small gesture of gratitude. The act of feeding them, hearing their innocent laughter, and connecting with them in that sacred space filled my heart. There was no rush, no distraction just pure presence. It reminded me of how our ancestors found calm not in luxury but in simplicity, devotion, and service. When life feels overwhelming, going back to our roots our family deities, rituals, and values can center us like nothing else.
In today’s world, our schedules rarely have breathing space. From one responsibility to the next, we push ourselves endlessly, often ignoring the soft signals our body sends us. I’ve made it a practice to pause just for 15 minutes each day. I sit still, close my eyes, breathe slowly, and simply thank my body for carrying me through everything. In that silence, I often feel tears welling up not of sadness, but of deep gratitude. That short break, filled with mindful presence, gives me the peace of a long restful sleep. Meditation, even if brief, reconnects me with myself. It's a quiet way of saying, “I see you, I value you,” to my own being.
Life doesn’t pause for us to find calm. We must learn to find it in motion. Whether I’m stuck in traffic, waiting at the airport, or surrounded by noise, I’ve made a habit of noticing small moments a child waving out of a rickshaw, an old man feeding pigeons, a vendor handing extra mango slices to a little girl. These are not grand gestures, but in them lies immense peace. Chaos is not the enemy disconnection is. The more we connect with our surroundings, with people, with ourselves the easier it becomes to find beauty even in the mess. And the more beauty we notice, the more our inner world settles.
There was a time I believed peace meant silence, a still room, a quiet mind. But life has shown me otherwise. Now I see calm as something deeper a state of being, not just a setting. Whether I’m amidst chattering children or in solitude with my journal, I’ve learned to carry calm within me. It’s not about escaping noise but about building a strong sense of self that stays rooted in love and gratitude, no matter the surroundings. Chaos and calm are not rivals, they are partners in our journey. Chaos brings movement, growth, and energy calm brings reflection, clarity, and peace. And together, they create the music of a life fully lived.
जय श्री राधे कृष्ण 🙏
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