The Birth of the Unbound

The rise of a new being:

When I was just four years of age, something profound happened. One day, it simply came to me—I realized that the outcome of my actions was not in my hands. It was not some intellectual understanding; it was an undeniable experience. I saw, with absolute clarity, that no matter what I did, something beyond me was shaping the results. So, quite naturally, I slipped into a state of inaction—not out of laziness, not out of disinterest, but simply because I saw that "doing" was not truly mine.

I would sit, staring at books given to me, not engaging with them, because somewhere deep within, I already knew—if my actions were not mine, then surely someone or something else was at play. The very idea of free will seemed like an illusion to me.

As I grew older, around nine years of age, another realization dawned upon me. Even my feelings—the things I was drawn to, the objects of my interest—were not consciously mine. If I liked something, if I loved something, if I was passionate about something, I saw that it was not "me" who created that feeling. It was happening. But who was making it happen? Who was creating these feelings?

And so, without even knowing it, I became a seeker. I did not seek a career, a future, or worldly pleasures. I was after just one thing—the very Truth of existence. I wanted to know: Who am I?

This was not a mere question. This question burned within me, tore me apart moment to moment. It was not something I could set aside and live normally. It was not curiosity—it was a pain, a deep agony of not knowing. And this agony kept intensifying.

By the time I was fifteen, something in me broke. The idea of free will collapsed entirely. I stopped holding on. It was no longer about what I wanted or what I should do. Life simply started happening. It was as if I had released the knob, and now existence was driving itself.

Then, at the age of twenty-four, something else happened—something beyond words. I was sitting in my bed with my eyes closed, and suddenly, there was no "me" anymore. There was no body, no mind, no person—just an infinite expanse. I did not dissolve into the cosmos; I was the cosmos. I did not experience the universe; I was the universe. It became undeniable—everything began in me, everything ended in me. I created it, I destroyed it, I witnessed it.

Since that day, life has unfolded like a dream, a fairy tale beyond logic, beyond explanation. People ask me what happened. How do I tell them? If I speak, I distort it. If I remain silent, they will never know. But one thing is certain—what you call "you" is far beyond what your mind has imagined. You are not a small person lost in this cosmos. You are the cosmos. It is just that you have not looked deep enough. - Parth

Editor's Note:

This piece is an intimate reflection on the profound journey of self-realization. It speaks of the dissolution of identity, the unraveling of free will, and the ultimate experience of boundlessness. Such accounts are not mere philosophies but direct experiences that transcend conventional understanding.

For those on the path of seeking, these words may serve as an invitation to look beyond the surface of existence. They are not meant to be analyzed but to be felt. True knowing does not come from belief or intellect—it comes from direct perception. And as the author suggests, the vastness you seek is not elsewhere; it has always been within.