Why I Began
Somewhere deep within, I heard a quiet call: not to fight the world, but to understand the confusion that lives within it — and more importantly, within me.
My Story
Before every great war, there is silence. And before every deep transformation, there arises a question — quiet, persistent, almost sacred in its discomfort. For years, I believed the Mahabharata was an ancient tale, a grand epic written in another time, about kings, queens, dharma, adharma, and celestial destinies that had nothing to do with me. But as I began to read it — not once, but again and again — something unexpected happened. The pages stopped speaking about them and started whispering about me.
When I saw Arjuna trembling with his bow slipping from his hands, I felt my own confusion reflected back. When I heard Duryodhana’s voice filled with envy and insecurity, it felt eerily close to my own inner critic, the voice that demands more, fears lack, and clings to control. Bhishma’s noble vows, Karna’s aching loyalty, Draupadi’s burning silence — they weren’t just characters anymore. They were mirrors, showing me every battle I had ever run away from.
It was then that I realised — I wasn’t merely reading the Mahabharata. I was walking through it. And not as an observer, but as a participant in my own inner war.
Why “The Inner Kurukshetra”?
Because the real battlefield — the one that matters most — is not found in Hastinapur, or Kurukshetra, or among warriors and chariots. It is the battlefield between your desires and your values, between what you know is right and what feels easier, between your fleeting self and your eternal one. This battlefield is silent, sacred, and very often ignored — and yet, it is the only war worth fighting.
I named this blog The Inner Kurukshetra because I believe that every reader carries their own Arjuna within — tired, noble, confused, sincere — standing at the edge of decision, asking the same question: “What should I do?” This blog is not meant to provide answers, but to offer companionship — to remind you that you are not alone in your questions, nor in your seeking.
I believe that if you’ve found your way here, perhaps you too are standing at the edge of something — a decision, a dilemma, a doorway. And like Arjuna, you might be wondering if you have the strength to step forward. Each week, we will enter the Mahabharata not as readers, but as seekers. We will sit in the dust beside rishis, kings, queens, and warriors — and in their stories, search for pieces of our own. This blog is not about mythology. It is about memory — the memory of who you were before the world named you, the warrior you’ve always been beneath the burdens of your roles. And maybe, by the time we walk from Adi Parva to the quiet ashes of the end, you and I will have met a version of ourselves who stood still in their own Kurukshetra… and chose not to flee, but to face.
So let us begin.