On Worth

A diamond merchant once came, displaying his diamonds. One diamond caught my attention. It glowed so brilliantly that it felt as if the sun had gifted it a fragment of its own light. Then the merchant announced its price.

The moment I heard the value, something strange happened. The diamond's glow seemed to dim—just a little, but noticeably so.

I asked, “A moment ago your shine was so radiant. Now it seems lighter, faded. What happened?”

The diamond replied softly, with pain in its voice, “I know I am precious. But my value is not in my own hands. Others decide my worth. That is my sorrow.”

In the evening, I sat under the open sky. The stars were shining, having drunk the darkness. Clouds gently veiled them, as if protecting their beauty from any harmful gaze. A diamond in the morning, a star at night—what a contrast. The diamond has surrendered its brilliance to human judgment and has become a slave to evaluation. The star has moved so far beyond man that no one can reach it, measure it, or price it. That is why it still shines freely.

Someone once came to me and said, “I think a lot. Yet I feel I have not achieved anything.”

But today man is not truly thinking—he is worrying. His thoughts are not reflective; they are reactive. Man is valuable, yet everywhere he is being evaluated. Schools grade him. Offices assign him a salary. Temples assess him through donations. Neighbours judge him by possessions. Social gatherings measure him by food, contacts, and display.

In the outer world, man may be progressing materially. But inwardly, he is becoming poorer, smaller, and more fragmented.

Man is losing his sense of intrinsic worth. If this continues, the day is not far when man will no longer truly be born—and even if he is, he may destroy himself.

Meditation gives man his value without evaluation. It reminds him that his worth is not something to be assigned—it already is.