Hari om everyone,
Quirky Question (QQ) of the Day:
28 monkeys were on a tree. Four decided to jump to another tree, three decided to jump to another branch, and eight decided to jump off to the ground. How many remain on the tree?
“16!” came the immediate mathematical response.
“Zero!”
Then came the winning answer: 28.
“They decided to jump, but they didn’t actually do it.”
Bingo! And suddenly our monkey puzzle became a lesson in resolve. Deciding to do something is not the same as actually doing it. We used it as an instant pointer: “You said you will not talk. So deciding not to talk is not the same as not talking!” 😄
We took it a step further: true resolve means Kaya, Vacha, and Manasa — our actions, words, and thoughts — are aligned. When we think one thing, say another, and do something else, we are scattered. When all three line up, our thoughts gain power.
The perfect analogy? A magnifying glass. Ordinary sunlight doesn’t burn paper. Focus that same sunlight through a lens onto one point, and it can become powerful enough to ignite it.
Our attention works the same way. Focus creates power.
Setting the tone with these analogies, we started the Mahabharata review.
Karna: The Cost of Half-Truths
Our Mahabharata journey continued with Karna. Born to Kunti through Surya, abandoned as a baby, and raised by Atiratha and Radha, Karna grew up without knowing his royal origins. His natural warrior instinct led him to Drona, who refused to teach him because he was not a prince.
So Karna went to Parashurama — but concealed the truth about who he was.
They asked: “But Karna didn’t even know he was a Kshatriya. Was the curse fair?”
That opened an important discussion. Karna may not have known his birth, but he did knowingly present himself differently to gain what he wanted. A half-truth is still a distortion of truth.
And we brought it right into everyday life:
“I’m going to a friend’s house.” True.
“But which friend?” — suddenly that part gets conveniently omitted!
Small lies, when practiced repeatedly, become habits. What we repeatedly do becomes part of who we are.
The Mahabharata Is Not Black and White
One student asked the perfect question:
“What’s the point of repenting if you keep making the same mistakes?”
They said: “But Arjuna is supposed to be the good guy!”
And that was exactly the point. The Mahabharata doesn’t give us neat heroes and villains. Even good people can have jealousy, insecurity, and ambition. The value lies in recognizing those tendencies in ourselves and working our way out.
From Grudges to a War
Drona and Drupada’s story brought us back to the power of small choices. One insult. One wounded ego. One vow. One act of revenge. And eventually, consequences far beyond what either could have imagined.We followed the chain through the Pandavas, the Lakshagruha, Vidura’s cryptic warning, Draupadi’s swayamvara, Kunti’s seemingly casual words, and finally Duryodhana’s growing jealousy after the Pandavas transformed barren Khandavaprastha into magnificent Indraprastha.
The key lesson was simple:
Jealousy did not begin with the palace. It began within Duryodhana.
Unique Statement Review
One student remembered the Karna discussion: “Even if Karna didn’t know who he really was, he still knew he was hiding the truth.” Someone else summed up the Duryodhana story simply: “The jealousy started with him. Shakuni just made it worse.”
The idea of focus stayed with several students. One student remembered the magnifying-glass analogy and said that “when you focus, your thoughts become more powerful.” Another connected it to everyday life: “Sometimes something is clouding your mind even when you are trying to focus.”
There were also some wonderfully practical takeaways: “One small action can lead to a big consequence,” and “A decision is not the same as actually doing something.” One student even brought the lesson back to the monkey QQ—deciding to jump did not mean anyone actually jumped!
Rashmi and Jacqueline.
