In a beautiful village in Kerala, a boy named Ramananda was fast asleep with his head resting amongst the crumbled pages of his efforts to write a 'note' to himself. His parents were proud, and his friends saw him as an intelligent kid, but when he used to ask himself how he was, no reply would be there. At the young age of ten, he saw how people thought of him. With this in his mind, his consciousness would let him rest, so he pushed himself repeatedly. Even when the results were good, he got frustrated it did not get better, and he was never content with his work. Even his teachers began to notice and praise him openly, giving him a hollow sense of satisfaction that he feared might make him complacent. Though he now studied at a prestigious university and was still appreciated by everyone around him, he felt increasingly lost.
Day in and day out, he would work to be better, but he had sacrificed the sense of oneness with himself, and thus he now felt lost, so he did the only thing he thought might help. He had begun to ask himself why he felt no sense of achievement and could not find fulfilment in his everyday life. Now he was lost, and on top of that, he had to answer his question. Neither did he see his own worth nor anyone else's, and began to progress without purpose. He was always aware of his thoughts, so his academics also declined. Only then did he see how good he was before and learn to appreciate his work. Having done so he was again that brilliant child that everyone admired now, having also grown in the sense of ethics.