dejaVU and self discovery

What’s a show that had the perfect series finale?

“You have a right to perform your prescribed duty, but you are not entitled to the fruits of your actions.” — Bhagavad Gita

A man rose before sunrise and drove through the quiet roads while chanting softly within himself.He wished for nothing more than a still mind and a safe journey.

“No strange shadows today,” he whispered inwardly.

“Let the mind be empty like the morning sky.”

But the mind was never truly silent.As the tires rolled across the wet road, a strange feeling came over him like an old memory reopening itself.He suddenly remembered his late father standing among crowds during the Bersih rallies.

It felt impossible.His father, of all people.Perhaps he had helped print posters. Perhaps he stood quietly behind the movement instead of in front of it.

The son could not understand why this image had returned now.

Then another scene appeared.A little girl from next door, once ordinary and unnoticed, had grown famous in her own world.

In the vision she approached him and said:“Thank you for saving my life.”

She offered him a mountain of money.

The man stared at it carefully.

Instead of accepting it gratefully, he increased the wager higher and higher in silence, testing the illusion itself.

Then his heart paused.“What am I doing?” he asked himself.

“Is this greed?”

Yes, the money could repair the house.

Yes, it could pay the housing loan.

Yes, it could make life easier.

But then what?

What was the purpose of wealth that arrived too easily?

Why would someone throw away money freely unless there was a hidden chain attached to it?

If he himself possessed such wealth, he would protect it carefully, invest wisely, or quietly help those in need.

He would not scatter it before others as a display of superiority.The vision disappeared immediately.

Then another voice arose from within:

“That money was never yours.

You already earn your own living.

So why did this illusion come to you?”

Later that day he encountered stories about people who steal wealth silently.

Not with knives.

Not with force.

But through emotional hunger.And suddenly many chapters of his life became clear.

The first thief spoke the language of family.“We are family here,” the employer said warmly.“Come meet my mother. Meet my sister.”A company mug was placed into his hands.Birthdays were remembered.Smiles were exchanged.

But while affection was performed publicly, his salary remained quietly beneath others.

Even juniors earned far more than him because they were treated as workers while he was treated as “family.”

And he understood:

False intimacy can become a lock placed upon a person’s worth.So he left the industry and never returned.

The second thief wore the face of blood.His late father studied astrology carefully, searching for which child would prosper most during a given year.When fortune aligned, stories of suffering appeared.

Trips to banks followed.Documents emerged.Loans, mortgages, schemes, and promises circled endlessly like hungry birds around property and money.

The son already knew the truth.His father wanted more capital for losing stock battles.

So the son learned the power of a single word:

“No.”

Not hatred.

Not revenge.

Only refusal.

Eventually the father stopped pressing against the locked door.

The third thief arrived disguised as friendship.She organized grand meals and overflowing feasts.She spoke of closeness and loyalty.

Yet every conversation became heavy with bitterness.Every phone call became another dumping ground for workplace misery.At the end of each year she needed help writing her performance review, her job scope, her answers, her survival.Again and again he gave his energy away.

But when he no longer responded, the mask cracked.

Anger erupted.

Superiority turned into accusation.

And finally he understood:

Some people do not feed others with food.They feed upon attention, exhaustion, guilt, and emotional labor.

The man walked away quietly.

As the years passed, his strength slowly returned.The mind became lighter.The silence became cleaner.

And he learned this:

Do not pour your spirit endlessly into bitterness disguised as love.

Do not confuse manipulation with intimacy.

Do not surrender your life-force to those who only arrive when they hunger.

Protect your peace the way a traveler protects fire during a storm.The road is already long enough.

“Let a man lift himself by himself; let him not degrade himself. For the self alone is the friend of the self, and the self alone is the enemy of the self.” — Bhagavad Gita