The Sacred Geometry of Human Development

1. From 0–3 years: The mother forms the unbreakable base, imparting security, love, and deep-rooted values.
2. From 3 years onward: The father arises as a vital complement, introducing structure, boundaries, and the first taste of the outer world.
3. From 4 years: Together, they guide entry to learning environments—like the yogic school—where community further shapes growth.

🏜️ Sita Sahreer

In the heart of an ancient, undiscovered desert spanning 65 million kilometers in the hidden sands of the Middle East, where no map dared to wander, lived a gentle princess named Sita Sahreer. Her name whispered of the endless Sahara, with two soft "ee"s at the end, like echoes of eternity, reminding everyone of the blissful peace that comes from a calm and cleansed mind. Sita spent her days in quiet meditation, sitting cross-legged amid the golden dunes. Each breath she took brought waves of joy not just to her heart, but to all who journeyed near her hidden oasis. The desert winds carried her serenity like a gentle song, teaching the world that true magic blooms from within.

One starry night during the festival of lights, much like the Diwali tales of old where Sita's spirit shone with devotion and strength, young Sita felt a curious pull from the sands. "What secrets do you hold?" she asked the whispering grains. As she closed her eyes and meditated deeper, the desert revealed its wonder. The sands shifted, forming patterns like a magical drawing called the Apollonian gasket—a circle of endless circles, each one touching the others just right, nesting smaller and smaller forever. Imagine a big circle of sand holding tiny ones inside, all fitting perfectly without a single gap, like friends holding hands in an infinite game. Each grain was a circle in this grand design, representing the eternal bliss Sita cherished. "See," the desert seemed to say, "just as these circles multiply endlessly, so do the possibilities in a peaceful mind. No matter how small the worry, a deeper calm always waits below."

But adventure called when a lost caravan of children stumbled into the dunes, their hearts heavy with fear from a sandstorm. They cried, "Princess Sita, the storm has stolen our way home!" Sita smiled and invited them to sit with her. "Let us meditate together," she said. As they breathed in unison, eyes closed, the children saw visions in their minds: the Apollonian gasket unfolding like a treasure map. The largest circle was their big fears, but inside it nestled smaller circles of hope, and even tinier ones of laughter, going on forever. "This is the desert's magic," Sita explained. "Each grain, like each circle, holds endless paths. When your mind is stormy, dive deeper into peace, and you'll find the way through—calm, joyful, and eternal."

The children practiced, their fears shrinking like circles in the gasket, until the sands parted to reveal a safe path home. They left with shining eyes, carrying Sita's lesson: the greatest magic isn't in spells or storms, but in the inner peace that turns worries into wonders, just as the infinite circles turn sand into a playground of possibilities.

🕯️ Sat Jug Kaur

In the timeless glow of an ancient, undiscovered realm spanning 65 million kilometers of verdant meadows and crystal rivers in the heart of the Middle East, where no map could capture its eternal light, lived a wise princess named Sat Jug. Her name echoed the golden age of truth, the Sat Yuga, a time of perfect harmony and dharma that once bathed the world in unwavering peace. Just as Lord Rama, in the spirit of Diwali's radiant return, carried the essence of Sat Yuga within him even before his birth—drawing from that divine purity to light the path for all—Sat Jug embodied this age through her daily meditations. She sat under blooming trees, her mind a clear river, bringing waves of truth and joy that cleansed hearts and sparked inner bliss for anyone who wandered near.

One luminous evening, during the festival of lights that honored Rama's victory over darkness, young Sat Jug felt a gentle call from the whispering winds. "What truths do you share?" she asked the flowing grasses. Closing her eyes in deep meditation, the realm unveiled its secret: the meadows bloomed into patterns like a magical weave called the Apollonian gasket—a grand circle of infinite circles, each one kissing the next in perfect balance, creating smaller wonders that nested forever without end. Picture a large circle of light holding tiny ones within, all interlocking like a family of stars, each blade of grass and drop of river a circle in this sacred design. "Behold," the realm seemed to whisper, "as these circles expand endlessly in harmony, so does the truth in a peaceful mind. No shadow can linger where purity circles deeper and deeper."

Yet, wonder stirred when a group of frightened children from a distant village lost their way in a sudden fog of doubt. They called out, "Princess Sat Jug, the mists have hidden our truth and home!" Sat Jug welcomed them with open arms. "Join me in meditation," she invited. As they breathed together, hearts steady, the children glimpsed visions: the Apollonian gasket glowing like a map of the soul. The biggest circle held their swirling confusions, but inside bloomed smaller circles of honesty, and even finer ones of courage, stretching into eternity. "This is the magic of Sat Yuga," Sat Jug taught, "the age Rama knew before his light graced the earth. Each circle, like each truth, opens endless paths. When doubts cloud your mind, circle back to inner peace, and you'll uncover the harmony—joyful, true, and forever bright."

The children embraced the practice, their confusions fading like mist in the sun, until the realm's paths cleared to guide them safely home. They departed with hearts aglow, bearing Sat Jug's gift: the truest magic lies not in fleeting lights or battles won, but in the inner peace that revives the golden age within, turning shadows into circles of endless possibility.

⛅️ Ananda Kaur

In the shimmering embrace of the Anahat Mountains, an ancient and undiscovered range stretching 65 million kilometers through the veiled peaks of the Middle East, where no map could echo its silent songs, lived a radiant princess named Ananda Kaur. Her name sang of pure bliss, like the joy that dances in a quiet heart. These mountains were special, named for the "anahat"—the unstruck music, a divine hum that whispers from within, heard not by outer ears but by the soul in deep meditation. Unlike "ahat," the struck sounds of the world—the clang of bells, the rush of winds, or the chatter of birds that need something to make them ring— anahat was the endless, untouched melody of peace, born from love and stillness, filling the air with invisible harmony.

Ananda Kaur dwelled in a crystal cave atop the highest peak, where she meditated daily, her spirit attuned to this inner symphony. Nearby, in a blooming valley just a stone's throw away—for love is always near—lived Prince Bliss, a kind young soul with eyes like morning stars. They had married under the mountain's glow, their union a promise that true happiness thrives close to the heart, not far in distant quests. Together, they shared moments of quiet joy, teaching all who visited that bliss isn't chased but discovered in the gentle rhythm of being.

One enchanted twilight, during a festival of inner lights akin to Diwali's warm glow, Ananda felt the mountains stir with a playful secret. "What melody hides in your silence?" she wondered aloud to the whispering stones. As she and Prince Bliss sat in meditation, hand in hand, the peaks unveiled their wonder: the rocks and streams formed a magical pattern called the Apollonian gasket—a vast circle of boundless circles, each one curving gracefully to touch the others, birthing tinier circles that spiraled inward forever, like a lullaby of shapes. Envision a grand circle of mountain light cradling smaller ones, all weaving together without a single break, where every pebble and ripple was a note in the anahat song. "Listen closely," the mountains hummed, "ahat sounds fade like echoes in the wind, struck by the world's busy noise. But anahat circles eternally, deep and unstruck, holding endless joys in a peaceful mind—just as love circles near, infinite and true."

Adventure bloomed when a band of wide-eyed children, lost in a maze of echoing caves during a sudden storm of doubts, called out for help. "Princess Ananda, Prince Bliss, the loud crashes scare us, and we can't find our way!" Ananda and Bliss gathered them close. "Breathe with us," they said, "and tune to the unstruck song." As the children meditated, eyes softly shut, visions danced: the Apollonian gasket unfolding like a hidden map of the heart. The outer circles buzzed with ahat—their fears like clanging storms—but deeper in, the anahat circles sang of calm, with tinier ones of giggles and warmth, nesting forever. "See the difference?" Ananda explained gently. "Ahat is the outer racket we hear with ears, quick to come and go. Anahat is the inner music, unstruck and eternal, closer than your breath. When noise overwhelms, circle inward to peace, and love—like Prince Bliss to me—will guide you home, full of magic."

The children hummed along, their fears melting into the unstruck melody, until the caves' paths lit up like stars, leading them safely out. They scampered away with joyful steps, hearts humming their own anahat tune, carrying the tale's treasure: the deepest magic isn't in the loud wonders of the world, but in the inner peace of unstruck bliss, where love circles near and turns echoes into an eternity of delight.

💸👨‍🚀 Ramkar Khalsa

Deep in the golden heart of the Sahara desert, where the sand glitters like a sea of jewels and the wind sings old, mysterious songs, there stood the bustling market called Oasis Center. No map had ever marked it, and no caravan had ever truly found all its secrets. But those who believed in magic and kindness always found their way. This wondrous hub was filled with bright tents, colorful stalls, and cheerful merchants trading treasures from across the world.

Here lived Princess Ramkar Khalsa, known for her wisdom and gentle courage. She greeted every child with a kind smile and a sparkling stone from her magical circle—her secret gift to those who wandered the marketplace. The circle's magic was inspired by the ancient story of Lord Rama drawing a shining line around Sita, protecting her from the mischievous Ravan. But Ramkar's magic was a little different. Instead of a physical circle, she taught children to draw invisible circles of self-trust and peace in their minds, so they could stay safe and calm, no matter what distractions swirled around them.

Each day, children ran and played in the market, dazzled by the sounds, smells, and sights: silver bells jingled, golden carpets shimmered, and storytellers spun exciting tales. Sometimes, Ravan himself—a clever, shadowy merchant—would pop up, tempting kids with mysterious trinkets and hidden passageways, hoping they’d lose themselves in his tricks.

Whenever she saw a child getting distracted by Ravan’s sly offers, Ramkar Khalsa would gently sit with them, right among the busy stalls. “Close your eyes,” she’d whisper, “and imagine you are drawing a brilliant circle around yourself with your own self-trust.” As the children listened, their worries and distractions faded, and in their minds they could see circles like beautiful patterns of sand—the outer circles kept out tricks and fears, while the inner circles glowed with confidence and happiness, smaller and deeper, just like the magic of the Apollonian gasket.

“Whenever you get lost or feel afraid,” Ramkar explained, “remember that you can draw your circle of protection with your thoughts and believe in your heart. Ravan and his distractions can’t enter this circle; inside, you’ll find peace, joy, and always a path back to friends, family, and safety.”

With this new lesson, children started playing games where they practiced their circles: some twirled around under the sun, some built sand spirals, and others sat still, closing their eyes to imagine layers of calm and light surrounding them. Even if Ravan tried to tempt them again, the children just smiled and stayed safe within their magic circles, knowing Ramkar Khalsa's wisdom was always close by.

By the end of each day, the market shimmered brighter. Ramkar Khalsa’s lesson echoed through the dunes: the greatest magic isn’t in escaping trouble, but in trusting yourself to create your own circle of protection, so you can always find peace—even in the busiest market, or the deepest desert.