An Inner Life

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Sir’s quote gives meaning and substance to our lives. It suggests that we can live fully in the world—productive, engaged, and useful—and yet find a deeper fulfilment within. When our aim is inner happiness, it does not lie in some distant retreat; it can be realised even when we are in the full flow of work, family, and responsibilities.

What Sir essentially states is that the quest for Truth—an inner life—need not stand apart from the outer life of duties. At first sight these two seem to move in opposite directions: one inward and quiet, the other outward and demanding. Yet Sir assures us they can be reconciled. Many lives demonstrate this possibility. A shining example is Lahiri Mahasaya, the disciple of Shri Guru Babaji, who lived the ordinary life of a householder while being one of the most advanced yogis of his time.

Lahiri Mahasaya’s life is remembered precisely because it shows that spiritual realization does not require withdrawing from the world. He worked as a government accountant, raised a family, and met the responsibilities of community life, even as he quietly guided seekers. His life proves that the path is not about abandoning the world, but about changing our relation with it.

His central teaching was disarmingly simple: perform all your duties—towards family, work, and society—but perform them without inner attachment. Outward renunciation is not necessary; what matters is the inner state. “Be in the world,” he advised, “but give your heart to God.” This inner renunciation is what made the path accessible to everyone.

This, in fact, sharpens one’s life in the world. When one is free from compulsions, fears, and the pull of likes and dislikes, action becomes clearer and steadier. One is not tossed about by every change in circumstance, because the axis of living has moved inward. The same duties are carried out, but with greater clarity and less burden. A quiet strength enters daily life—a sense of balance that cannot be disturbed easily.

Above all, Lahiri Mahasaya taught that ultimate realisation could be attained through consistent practice—especially Kriya Yoga—while living a normal, active life. Spirituality, for him, was not an escape from the everyday but a deepening of it. In this, he echoes the very truth that Sir points towards: that fulfilment does not come by choosing between the inner and outer worlds, but by uniting them.

And when these two streams flow together—one grounding us in life, the other lifting us inward—there is a completeness that neither stream can give by itself. It is here, in this quiet joining, that true happiness becomes possible.


In this Pahadi dhun,  Shivkumar Sharma’s santoor carries a bright, worldly clarity—like the outer life with its movement and rhythm. Hariprasad Chaurasia’s bansuri answers with a soft, inward pull—like the spiritual life that breathes calm into all activity. 

Their music is not a duel but a quiet dialogue, each shaping the other without effort. The two voices begin distinctly, gradually find their complement, and settle into a gentle, shared resolution.

In this unforced harmony lies the very truth of Sir’s message: that when the outer and inner lives move together, life finds its natural fulfilment.

You may also want to read my piece on:  Elusive Nature of Happiness

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