I Am

JARNA KHIMANI explores desire, stillness, and the witnessing Self, tracing the shift from seeking to being.

To the one-year-old me, all that mattered was wrapping myself in my mommy’s arms and feeling that profound sense of security and love. To the eleven-year-old me, receiving my friends’ approval on my clothing was primary. To the twenty-one-year-old me, achieving good grades in college was the sole focus. To the thirty-one-year-old me, passion and work were most important.

Now, here I am, sitting in a quaint little cafe, reflecting on each phase of my life, and how caught up I was—and how caught up I am today, as other dimensions preoccupy my mind. Will always be something more—something new—that I will desire from life?

I recall so clearly how my grandfather wanted us, as a family, to move to a house we could call our own. He lived an incredible life, yet it tore him up in his last moments that he couldn’t buy a new home. As my mind wanders to those fragile moments, I am sure that my desires will likewise evolve and upgrade, and that there will always be something that feels primary at every point in my life—whether for myself or for others. 

Certainly, there is no escape from this—our desires, relationships, aspirations, dreams, what pulls us towards something, or what repels us from other things. At some level, I will always remain involved with the world. I ask myself, “Is that why we are all here, living this life?”

“No!” My heart gives an instant response, as though it simply knew: There is more to all of this, more to each breath bestowed upon me. There are infinite chances to walk past this mind that is too involved in this world. 

There is a beautiful quote from the Mandukya Upanishad, which has just danced into my mind: 

द्वा सुपर्णा सयुजा सखाया समानं वृक्षं परिषस्वजाते ।
तयोरन्यः पिप्पलं स्वाद्वत्त्यनश्नन्नन्यो अभिचाकशीति ॥

Two birds, inseparable companions, perch on the same tree, one eats the fruit, the other looks on. The first bird is our individual self, feeding on the pleasures and pains of this world. The other is the universal Self, silently witnessing all.

The Self is the witness of all. Yet, in our journey of life, we are also given the chance to witness and connect to that universal Self. The more we do, the more still we become; the more open we are to absorbing universal energy and remaining in God’s flow.

Recently, I lit a diya [lamp] in a dark room. My eyes stayed with the flame of brightness dancing in space, drawing my attention to the light within and without. Within minutes, the dancing flame became still, as did my whirling mind. All that remained was the space where the flame once existed, the flame that now vanished in the thin air, leaving nothing but black ash-like cotton over my silver diya.

This deep sense that there is such depth to
life beyond desire—if only we are willing to be still and 
to exist not as a mere part but embodying the whole.

I stayed there, perfectly still within the empty space—as though everything around me had paused, just as it must have paused for Arjuna when Shri Krishna bestowed geeta gnyaan [knowledge of the Bhagavad Gita] upon him. In that moment, I heard a voice: “Just like this flame, I exist in form for a fleeting moment, and in no time, I will be gone.” What is life unless I connect to my God within—to the formless Self?

I stayed still, my mind empty, my heart full of love. It was one of those blessed days when I lived undisturbed by any external noise. Possibly it was the universe’s way of saying, “It’s your time, my girl, to feel one with your God within.”

In those moments,
I simply existed. 
The way the sun just exists.
The way the moon just exists. 
The way stars just twinkle. 
I was just there. 
And just like the sun and the moon,
I did not know
What I am called. 
No name,
No form, 
No gender,
Just oneness.
Just existence. 

I sense this marks the beginning of something new and powerful in my spiritual journey. This deep sense that there is such depth to life beyond desire—if only we are willing to be still and to exist not as a mere part but embodying the whole.