Gopal sat in the corner of the correctional home, staring blankly at the walls. It had been five years since he was caught trying to murder his cousin in a fit of rage. Family feuds had always been part of his life—land disputes, inheritance arguments, accusations that tore his once close-knit family apart. When his anger boiled over, he thought taking revenge would bring him peace. But instead, it landed him here, in isolation from the very family he loathed.
Though he was away from the daily clashes, Gopal’s mind remained restless. Every night, he replayed old arguments and betrayals, holding on to the grudges like prized possessions. The thought of revenge festered, sometimes keeping him awake until dawn. He imagined ways he could exact justice, and it brought him temporary satisfaction, but deep down, the bitterness never truly left.
One afternoon, the correctional home organized a meditation session. Usually, Gopal ignored these activities. But something about this one was different. The soft sounds of music filled the air, and the instructor, a gentle woman with a calm presence, began speaking in a soothing voice. Her words painted pictures of serene landscapes and peaceful skies, guiding everyone to relax.
At first, Gopal resisted. He had no time for peace, not when his mind was so filled with anger. But slowly, without realizing it, he began to let go. His thoughts quieted down, and for the first time in years, he felt a strange sense of calm. The knot in his chest started to loosen, and the images of revenge that usually plagued him faded away, replaced by a profound stillness.
When the session ended, the instructor approached him. “How are you feeling?” she asked gently.
Gopal opened his eyes slowly, blinking as if waking from a dream. “I… I don’t know how to explain it. I feel… peaceful.”
The woman smiled. “I understand. I can see you’ve been through a lot, Gopal. Your family history is filled with pain. But let me ask you something. When did you first start feeling this bad about them?”
Gopal hesitated. He had never spoken about this to anyone. “It was years ago,” he finally said. “When my uncle accused my father of cheating the family. Since then, it’s been one thing after another.”
She nodded. “I see. And ever since, you’ve held on to that anger, haven’t you?”
He looked down at his hands, fidgeting with the edges of his shirt. “I guess… yes.”
She leaned in slightly. “Gopal, however compelling the reasons may be, the moment we start a negative train of thought about someone, our sliding has begun, and we lose control. The more you dwell on those thoughts, the deeper you slide into a pit of anger and revenge. You’ve already felt what it’s like to let go, even if just for a moment. Imagine if you could feel that peace more often.”
Her words struck something deep within him. He had always believed his anger was justified, but now, sitting in the aftermath of the meditation session, he realized how much control he had lost.
“I’ve never thought of it that way,” Gopal admitted. “It’s always been about what they did to me, what they took from me.”
“But now,” the instructor said, “you have the power to take back control. Not by seeking revenge, but by changing how you think.”
Gopal left the session with more to think about than he had anticipated. The idea that his anger had been controlling him, rather than the other way around, was new. He spent the following nights lying awake, not plotting revenge, but reflecting on the years he had spent chained to his grudges. Was it worth holding on so tightly to the past?
Gradually, he started attending more meditation sessions. Each time, he felt the same quiet, soothing sense of release wash over him, just as it had in that first session. It wasn’t immediate, nor was it a straight path, but with each day, the weight on his shoulders lightened. He began recognizing the moments when his mind would slip back into old patterns, when thoughts of his family would trigger anger. But now, instead of feeding those thoughts, he learned to breathe, to focus, and to let them pass.
The instructor’s words stayed with him: “The moment we start a negative train of thought, our sliding has begun.” Slowly, he came to realize how often he had let himself slide, not only into anger but into a life consumed by negativity.
Weeks turned into months. One day, as he sat alone in his room after a session, Gopal noticed something. The familiar bitterness wasn’t there. The anger that had once filled every corner of his mind was now just a faint echo. He didn’t feel the constant pull of revenge anymore. There was no longer a desire to punish his family. Instead, a strange sense of calm had taken its place.
It wasn’t that his family had changed. They were still the same people, with the same history. But he had changed. The grudge that had once defined him was no longer the centre of his world.
One evening, after another meditation session, Gopal sat with the instructor. “I think I’m starting to understand,” he said quietly. “It was never about them. It was about me… losing control.”
The instructor smiled gently. “Exactly, Gopal. The moment we let those thoughts take over, we give away our peace. But the good news is, peace is always within your reach. It’s yours to hold onto.”
Gopal nodded. For the first time in years, he wasn’t thinking about his family. He was thinking about himself—not the vengeful, angry man he used to be, but the person he was becoming.
And with that realization, he knew that true freedom wasn’t
something his family could give him. It was something he had found within
himself.