Overcoming Grief - Lessons from King Senajit's story

Grief.

That unbearable weight pressing on the chest when life suddenly snatches something away.

A son.
A friend.
A fortune.
A status that once made heads bow in respect.

Gone.

And you are left with just... absence.

King Senajit too stood there — not as a monarch on his throne, but as a father crushed under the loss of his son. His palace was full, yet he felt empty. His eyes scanned the room, hoping the child would return. But he wouldn’t.

What does a man do when the world that once made sense suddenly falls apart?

In walked a wise man — not with rituals, not with hollow comfort, but with truth sharp as lightning and calm as still waters.

He said:
‘Your grief, O King, is misplaced. Today you cry for your son. Tomorrow the world will cry for you. And the day after, they too will be gone. This is the truth you try to ignore — but this is the truth that will set you free.’

Senajit protested — ‘But grief is natural. How can I stop it?’

And the wise man answered —
‘Because I don’t consider anything in this world as mine. Not even this body. I belong to the world, and the world belongs to everyone. Nothing exclusively belongs to me — not my son, not my wealth, not even my name.’

He compared life to the ocean.

‘Two logs float toward each other. For a time, they drift together. Then the tide pulls them apart. That’s how relationships are. Did you know your son before he was born? He was a stranger once — just as you were to him. You were brought together for a time. Now you’ve drifted apart. That’s all.’

And then came the deepest truth:

‘Grief is born out of joy.’
You grieve now only because you once rejoiced. You wanted that joy to last forever. But nothing here is permanent.

The root of sorrow is attachment, and attachment is fed by expectation.

He said —
‘Even enemies or disasters aren’t responsible for your sorrow. Your own karma brings you joy and sorrow — like seasons following each other. You can’t blame the heat for summer. That’s just how it is.’

The wise man divided people into three:

• The ignorant fools, who don’t suffer — because they don’t even realize what’s happening.

• The fully awakened, who also don’t suffer — because they’ve risen above illusion.

• And the ones in between — intelligent enough to see suffering, but not wise enough to break free from it.

These are the ones who suffer.

The wise, he said, live without fear or anger.
They don’t run behind pleasures.
They don’t chase illusions.
They have no expectations.
They don’t feel cheated by life — because they never made any deals with it in the first place.

So how to face grief?

By not clinging.

By knowing the waves will rise, and they will fall.

By understanding that everything given to you is on rent, not ownership.

By knowing — the joy you had was real, yes. But now, it has passed.
And grief too will pass.

You were not born grieving.
You don’t have to die grieving.

Ramaswamy Sastry and Vighnesh Ghanapaathi