"Detour"

Detour 

Life's way of rerouting you

We’ve all heard it growing up – “Life Is the Best Teacher” and honestly, it is. But not the kind that smiles sweetly, pats your back, and says “Good try.”

Life is the teacher who throws you straight into the practical exam first and hands you the textbook later – just to make sure the lesson burns enough to stay in your memory.

It gives you heartbreak before teaching you self-worth.

It gives you failure before teaching you strategy.

It gives you delays before teaching you patience.

And if you still don’t get it? It shrugs and says,

“Okay, let’s repeat that level… but this time with more emotional damage.”

You don’t actually learn a lesson just because you went through it. You only learn when you’re ready to accept it. You can know what’s right, repeat affirmations, read 10 self-help books, but still keep running into the same wall again and again – until one random Tuesday it finally clicks. And that’s when the magic happens.

The same thing that once broke you now teaches you. The same pattern that kept repeating finally ends. Because you didn’t just go through it – you grew through it.

See, life doesn’t work alone.

It has a little faculty team in the background making sure you don’t flunk the syllabus of existence.

Shani is that cosmic drill sergeant who shows up just when you thought life was finally smooth and says, “Drop and give me fifty!” He doesn’t punish you, he upgrades you — but in the most inconvenient way possible. He’ll take away your comfort, your shortcuts, and your weekend plans just to make sure you build the kind of backbone that can carry your destiny. Think of him as life’s gym coach: he keeps adding emotional weight plates till you’re crying on the metaphorical floor, and just when you scream, “I can’t do this anymore!” he grins and says, “Perfect — now you’re finally getting stronger.” He isn’t here to ruin your life; he’s here to make sure you don’t waste it.

Rahu is the fun, chaotic friend who convinces you to buy the shiniest thing in the shop only for you to realize later – it was fake gold. He’s not cruel – he’s just showing you how easily you get distracted. Rahu throws glitter on wrong things so that you learn the difference between what glitters and what’s truly gold. He lures you into chasing illusions, tempts you with shortcuts, and then sits back with popcorn to watch you facepalm when it all crumbles. And the best part? When you finally get tired of falling for the same trap, Rahu slow-claps from the cosmic balcony and says, “Finally. You’re learning.”

Then there’s Ketu — the universe’s mysterious minimalist with a PhD in “Let It Go.” He sneaks into your life like a ninja and quietly removes people, plans, and attachments you thought you couldn’t survive without, just to prove a point: you totally can. He’s sarcastic, subtle, and brutally honest, teaching detachment, the art of unclenching your fists, and showing that peace comes when you stop treating temporary things like permanent treasures.

The funniest thing about life?

It loves reruns.

If you didn’t get the lesson, it will send you the same type of person, the same situation, the same heartbreak, over and over, until you say, “Ahh. I get it now.” It’s like Netflix’s auto-play button. You can’t skip to the next season until you finish this one.

And at some point, you realize the biggest part of growing up is not learning more, but unlearning.

Unlearning that suffering is the price of love.

Unlearning that success has to be complicated.

Unlearning that everything that leaves is a tragedy – when in fact, sometimes it’s just a plot twist you needed.

When you unlearn, you make space for a new version of yourself. One that is lighter, freer, less reactive, more intentional.

Everything can go – people, jobs, plans, even your old self. But your soul stays. Your karma stays. Your connection with Shri Hari stays. That’s the constant. That’s the thread tying it all together. Everything else is just part of the syllabus.

So the next time life tosses you into chaos like it’s some reality show challenge, pause. Breathe. Maybe even chuckle at the absurdity. And say,

Oh, I see your heavy-duty training, that glitter isn’t gold & thanks for the subtle eviction notice, I get the hint. Because once you start seeing life not as punishment but as a teacher (with some sarcastic humor), it stops being a nightmare and becomes a story worth telling. A story where the main character – YOU – actually wins in the end.