I didn’t learn gratitude by counting my blessings.
I stumbled upon it while standing in a temple—complaining.
Some months ago, I came to know that Mangal Griha (Mars) in my birth chart was giving me less-than-optimal results. The suggested remedy was to donate gud (jaggery) and lal masoor (red lentils) at a temple. So I started visiting our neighborhood mandir every Tuesday.
I would recite the Shri Hanuman Chalisa and request Bhagavan Hanuman to calm my Mars, since Bajrangbali is said to control Mangal.
Then one Tuesday, something struck me.
I had just finished reciting the Chalisa. The temple was quiet, the familiar words still hanging in the air. And in that brief stillness, I heard my own prayer differently—less as faith, more as complaint.
I realized I was being a complainer—a whiner who keeps nagging about things not going his way. Though religious people might consider such requests normal, it didn’t feel right to me. My prayer to Hanuman ji to pacify Mars felt less like devotion and more like a complaint.
So many things in my life were going well (and still are), yet all my attention was stuck on one not-so-good aspect.
That realization hit hard.
It felt unfair—and honestly, a bit obnoxious—to constantly complain about what I didn’t have. Not to mention how ungrateful it seemed to trouble a deity with my personal grievances.
So instead of complaining, I decided to be thankful.
I began expressing gratitude to Bhagavan Hanuman for the blessings I already enjoy.
I am an able man with a cooperative family—people who stand by me without drama, without conditions. I’m fortunate to have a few close friends and relatives who listen to me with patience and compassion, not to fix me, but simply to hear me. I have a computer to write this post on. And, of course, many other comforts one often takes for granted.
Then why was I whining?
Why wasn’t I thankful for what I already had?
The answer was simple: habit.
Nagging, fault-finding, and complaining are so widespread in our society that we accept them as normal—without ever questioning them.
When you complain, your focus is on what’s lacking—on something that isn’t working, something that disturbs your peace or robs you of sleep. In other words, your attention stays glued to the dysfunctional parts of your life.
But what about the things that are working?
Don’t they count?
They do.
We often believe life changes through big, dramatic actions—something grand and extraordinary. But life doesn’t work that way.
Life is a continuum of small things.
And gratitude is one of those small things—quiet, ordinary, but powerful.
So be thankful for what you have.
It all adds up.