The Lamp and the Sun

There was once a devoted temple lamp that burned every night before the deity.

It took its duty very seriously. “If I do not burn,” the lamp thought, “the temple will be dark.

If the temple is dark, people will lose faith. If people lose faith, everything will fall apart.”

So the lamp burned with great strain. It worried about the oil, the wick, the wind, the time. Even when its flame flickered, it refused to rest.

One evening, as dawn approached, the lamp noticed something strange. Slowly, without asking its permission, light filled the temple. The darkness vanished—not because the lamp tried harder, but because the sun had risen. The lamp felt shocked—and then relieved. “All this time,” it realized, “I thought the light depended only on me. But I was never alone. I was only doing my small part, while a far greater light was always present.”

From that day on, the lamp still burned faithfully at night. But it no longer carried fear in its flame. It knew that its role was to serve, not to control. The rising of the sun was never its responsibility.

Inner Meaning

Like the lamp, we often believe: “If I don’t hold everything together, it will collapse.” “If I stop worrying, something terrible will happen.” This burden comes from ajñāna (ignorance) —forgetting that we are not the sole doers.

The following śloka from Srimad Bhagavatam and its following essence reminds us:

तस्माज्जह्यङ्ग वैक्लव्यमज्ञानकृतमात्मन: ।

कथं त्वनाथा: कृपणा वर्तेरंस्ते च मां विना ॥ 1.13.45 ॥

Let go of this burden born of ignorance.

Those who are upheld by a higher order are never truly helpless.

You are not abandoned. You are not alone.

You are not required to carry the universe on your shoulders.

Your role is to act sincerely, not anxiously.

To offer effort, not ownership.

To participate, not to panic.

When this is understood, effort becomes lighter, responsibility becomes clearer, and life flows with trust instead of tension.

Concept: Dr. Malladi Srinivasa Sastry