Rising Above Challenges with Swami Vivekananda: Stories of Resilience and Courage

In 2004, I relocated from Mumbai to Pune for work in Baner. During my stint working as a 24-year-old single working girl, I faced the challenge of finding a decent place to stay. Since I joined in a junior role, my salary was, of course, meagre, so affording an apartment for myself was definitely out of the question.

I first stayed as a paying guest (PG) at a family’s 2 BHK flat, right opposite my office. I shared a tiny room with two other colleagues (each of us had a small single bed to ourselves), while three more colleagues lived in the living room. The family of four lived in the main bedroom.

They had mentioned that when we paid a three- to six-month rent, they were just here for a few days and would be moving to their apartment elsewhere. It was only after we girls moved in that we realised that the family of four (the couple and their son and daughter) lived in the master bedroom with an attached bathroom.

In contrast, the six of us shared the kitchen and one bathroom. I, of course, was always the first one to wake up by 5-5:30am to use the bathroom before the other five.

Social media was still at a nascent stage back then, so such things could not be written about. As there were not many online review platforms, complaining about this paying guest was not possible. And since we had already paid for three to six months, we were all stuck.

Saving a flatmate from disaster & then the payback

After several requests to the landlady that the bathroom geyser was faulty and could burst at any moment, she continued to ignore them.

One fateful day, just as one of my PG flatmates stepped out of the bathroom after a shower, I could hear something hissing when she opened the bathroom door.

I noticed that the geyser had a tiny puncture, from which steam was escaping. Instantly, I pulled my flatmate out and closed the bathroom door behind her, and within seconds, the geyser burst. Thankfully, it was not a major one, but it could have been fatal.

My flatmate was so shaken up that had she been there a bit longer, she would have been badly hurt. She burst into tears and said, “You saved my life…”.

I fought (verbally) with my landlady and her husband for their negligence and how they cheated us, saying that they lived in another building while we girls stayed here as PGs, but only to find them living in the next room. Since we had already paid up to six months in advance, most girls had no choice but to continue.

What happened next was that I was asked to leave with my bags in the evening. The flatmate I saved did not utter a word. I called up a friend and stayed at a family friend’s place for a few weeks until I found a girls’ hostel in Baner.

I know, in hindsight, I should have reported the harassment. But I was young and naive, wanting to savour life on my own terms, where I wanted to make my own mistakes and learn from them.  

Moreover, I received no support from my colleagues, who were my flatmates in the PG. My focus was entirely different – not to teach anyone a lesson but to make myself stronger. I didn’t want to go back home to Mumbai, so I roughed it out. 

Finding a room in a girls’ hostel

At that time, Baner was not that developed. There were hardly any buildings and nothing much to write home about. Yes, if you visit Baner now, you’ll be totally awestruck by the development with fancy cafes and buildings.

The girls’ hostel was around 4 km away from my office. I still recall that the hostel rent per person was Rs 1500 per month, and again, I had to share a room with two other girls. I offered to pay INR 4500, the full rent (i.e., pay for the entire room) to the hostel owner for a room to myself, but he refused. Since I had no option (I did not want to stay at someone’s house for so long), I shared a room with two girls who were pursuing engineering from a neighbouring college.

No space for me in the hostel room

I was clearly not welcome as I wasn’t a local. I just had a single bed to myself by the window, where I was allowed to dry clothes only on one side of the window; the other two clotheslines were reserved for my roommates.

I wasn’t given any shelf space, only about 15 cm, where I kept a photo of my spiritual guru for my prayers. There was no space in the cupboard, as the other two girls had taken up all the space. So, naturally, I kept all my clothes in my suitcase, locked and under my bed.

I had a bucket and a mug that I had to use for my bath at the shared bathroom, and then after use, I placed them back under my bed (thankfully, my bed was high enough).

My post-work dinner – Mongini’s slice cake and bananas

Since Baner did not have many places to eat at that time (and no Zomato or Swiggy), after working late, I would have a pack of Monginis slice cake, two bananas and come back to my hostel room. I would read for a bit and doze off.

The girls kept the lights on late into the night; apparently, they were studying. They made fun of me because I snored at night – luckily, I was unaware, as I used to be dog tired from work.

I seldom spoke, I just stuck to my work and routine, and I just wanted to get by the day. I kept requesting a single room from the hostel owner every day, but he continued to refuse.

Reading Swami Vivekananda

Anyway, every night before going to bed, I would read a book on Swami Vivekananda, which I had purchased from the Ramakrishna Mission bookstore in Khar, Mumbai.

It used to soothe and relax my mind. Swami Vivekananda’s words freed my mind from the ‘stress’ of not being able to find a place of my own; to live with peace of mind and dignity and to help me forget the humiliation I faced at the PG and how my colleague/ roommate whom I helped did not dare to support me when I was asked to leave by the landlord and his wife. Swami Vivekananda’s book was like a balm to a hurting soul. At times, the book filled me with an unexplainable positive energy.

The ice breaker with Swami Vivekananda’s book

And that’s when one of the girls spoke to me for the first time, that too in Hindi.

“I have never seen anyone read a book on Swami Vivekananda. You’re the first.”

I just smiled while she continued, “Why do you read a book on Swami Vivekananda? Why not any other novel?”

I replied, “That’s because I want to know more about our Indian culture, history and its roots. We are the brand ambassadors of our country, and we should take pride in being Indian. I realise we know so little about our own country and know so much about the West.”

I then told her how I had wanted to join the army but couldn’t, and how, after working as a journalist, I stepped into this role in e-learning. I also mentioned that I was still figuring things out, and until then, here I was.

The girl’s eyes and face lit up when she spoke, “You know, I want to join the police force like my father. But my family insists on my doing engineering.”

I was like, “Wow! That’s really amazing. You can still do that, can’t you?”

“Now meeting you, I’m inspired. I think I will gather my courage to tell my father that I want to join the police force like him,” she replied with a big smile. (That was the first time I saw her smile in weeks!)

Then the second girl spoke, “I want to get into trading. Do you know I secretly go to a stockbroking office to do trading? I haven’t told my parents yet; only my fiancé is aware. I love finance, shares and trading. But my family thinks this is not the right job for me. What will my in-laws think of me?” (She was engaged to her boyfriend, who thankfully was very supportive of her.) “If you ever need help with the stock market, let me know. I’ll guide you,” she smiled.

From then on, almost every night, the girls would sit with me, both on their respective beds and ask me to read something from the book on Swami Vivekananda.

It became a spiritual and soul-searching moment for all of us. Sometimes we joked and laughed, and the girls made space for my clothes in their cupboard, switched off the lights at night so I wouldn’t be disturbed, gave me more room on the bookshelf, and welcomed me into their hearts.

Breaking bread – sharing a meal with them

One evening when I was late, I brought back my usual pack of Monginis slice cake and two bananas, and I sat on my bed, ate it, and finished it off with water. I was about to lie down when the girls asked me, “Why did you eat that?”

I told them, “That is my dinner every day. I get back from work so late, and there are no places to eat. I usually sit outside the office on the stairs and eat, then come back. Today I’m too tired.”

The girls got worried. “No, no, you can’t eat like this. We get our meals here, why don’t you have with us?”

I replied, “Your meal timings don’t match my timings from work. That’s why I’ve been eating this for the last couple of months.”

The next day, it was a Saturday, and I had not visited home in Mumbai owing to work. The girls took me down to the ‘mess’ for lunch, where we sat on the floor, and along with other girls living in the hostel, we all shared our food.

It was a simple Maharashtrian meal of daal, sabzi, roti, rice and salad. It was a moment only to be captured in one’s soul – no language barrier – no Hindi-Marathi divide. We all connected over food and the warmth of humanity. I think that’s what we all want – to connect at a human level.

Finally, I got a place to stay!

Despite making the hostel my temporary refuge, I continued searching for something better. I had already informed my HR Manager, Reena J., that I’m looking for a flat on rent since vacating the PG.

After a few days, my HR Manager (at that time we were blessed to have brilliant, empathetic and genuine HR Managers.) Reena called me and said, “Tanya, have you found a place to stay? There’s one employee, her flat mate has moved out, and she’s looking for another flatmate.”

Of course, I jumped at the offer. Reena drove me on her scooter to this apartment block, and guess what, the apartment block was right opposite the girls’ hostel!

I met the girl at the flat; she was another colleague from a different vertical. It was a first-floor, 2-bedroom, 1-living room (hall) (2BHK) garden-facing apartment. She had already occupied the main bedroom with an attached bathroom, so the other bedroom (a tad smaller than the main bedroom) and a bathroom next to the living room-dining area – it was as if I had struck gold! I took it.

I set up my bedding on the floor (I had no furniture at that time), had my favourite curtains from home, my music system, books, art supplies, plants, and I had a bathroom to myself – oh what luxury! I would bring fresh flowers every now and then, and my flatmate would wonder why! I was living my dream, and I was grateful.

I went for early morning walks, made friends with an elderly couple who were my neighbours, read my books on the balcony facing the garden, and cooked all my meals at home. I would take my cooked meals to the office, and my colleagues would devour them within seconds. That’s when I realised my cooking skills. I started dressing up well, felt confident, and it was wonderful. Were there no challenges living in this apartment, oh, there were plenty, but then the previous challenges had taught me how to face the new ones!

I even connected with my father’s dear old friend from his Delhi days, whom I called Bapat Uncle and Bapat Aunty, who lived in Aundh. On weekends when I would not visit home in Mumbai, I would give Bapat Uncle a call, drop by at their place for dinner, and eagerly wait for Bapat Aunty’s home-cooked delicious meals and ginger pudding during winter evenings. It was like Bapat Uncle and Aunty, though they were my parents’ friends, became my best friends. Uncle had written down many stories from his work, and he was just a fabulous artist! He started learning how to paint after his retirement, and he would show me his latest masterpieces. Old age couldn’t dampen Uncle and Aunty’s optimism and happiness. They were like a happy, bright sunshine on cloudy days for me.

Lessons for life

You know, life happens like this. Sometimes, the best thing that is going to happen to us is just around the corner. To appreciate it, we must first overcome a few hardships and obstacles so that once we achieve our goals, we can appreciate them and take care of them.

Such experiences help us to stay humble and grounded.

As for the two girls from my hostel, they kept in touch every now and then, telling me how much they miss our evening talks about life and living.

Next time you find someone reading a book on Upanishads, the Bhagavad Gita, or a spiritual book like one on Swami Vivekananda, don’t mock them. They’ll inspire you, and you’ll form genuine friendships, lasting connections and life lessons.

How to change your narrative

As I continue to do inner work, I chanced upon the divine conversations between Arjun and Krishna, where Arjun is demotivated at the Battle of Kurukshetra. Krishna, as a Mentor and Guide, pushes Arjun saying, “Your compassion is weakness. Your duty is to rise.” (Source: Still Kind to People Who Hurt You? The Gita Might Tell You to Stop) It is with such wisdom that we decide to stand up tall again.

Some of my readers may see me as weak, while others may perceive me as resilient. It is all a matter of perspective. If I were weak, I would not have come so far. The inner work and changing the narrative – only we hold the power for that. No AI can do that for us. If we struggle with this, a Guru, a Mentor or a Guide is the one we need who will steer us in the right direction.

When we write real-life narratives like the one I shared above, it tells me how far I’ve come despite those mistakes I made in my 20s. Today, I am filled with confidence and awe about myself, especially on the days when I don’t feel so great.

I know, I’m often told that with AI, no one will want writers – fair enough, don’t hire writers. Let AI do all our work. But to write your own narrative, to heal, to recover, and realign with your goals —to change or create a new one, only we can do it.

You don’t have to be a writer to create your own narrative; anyone can do that. To help you find that courage to start penning your narrative (with mistakes and all), that’s where I, as a Writing Mentor and Coach, step in, to help you find your calling, to heal from the past, to realign and refocus – one word at a time.

Signing off with one of my favourite quotes by Swami Vivekananda – The greatest sin is to think that you are weak.

Start by trusting the process. Join my Writing Mentorship Programs at The Write Compass and let me guide you through the journey.