As I pondered on my existence, I came to a profound realisation - the beauty of relinquishing things that don't genuinely belong to us. This epiphany struck me whilst I was embarking on a modest 5-6 kilometre walk, after which I felt utterly exhausted. However, my gaze then fell upon a Jain muni who, despite traversing the same distance and toiling tirelessly to orchestrate a grand event, remained eager to embark on a further 20-kilometre journey. This stark juxtaposition prompted me to ruminate on our own lifestyle choices. We adorn ourselves in multiple layers of attire, donning socks, caps, and mufflers to shield ourselves from the elements. During the sweltering summer months, we crave cold water throughout the day and apply sunscreen liberally to prevent our skin from becoming scorched. We carry umbrellas to protect ourselves from the rain, oblivious to the tiny creatures that take birth during this season and the unintentional harm we cause them. As we navigate our daily lives, we thoughtlessly trample upon small insects and carelessly sweep them aside in our food and greens. For our own comfort, we wear sandals and shoes 365 days a year, even within the confines of our homes. Many of us knowingly or unknowingly utilise leather products, such as shoes, belts, and bags. We consume milk and dairy products, aware that they originate from artificially inseminated cows and buffaloes. We indulge in perfumes, scented shampoos, and various makeup products to enhance our appearance. At the slightest hint of fever or a cold, we hastily reach for medication. We crave delectable food multiple times a day and seek entertainment in hotels, parties, movies, and films. Some of us even succumb to drugs, cigars, and alcohol. We don elaborate attire to exude confidence or impress others. In our quest for spiritual redemption, we flock to the Ganges, hoping that a dip in its sacred waters will wash away our fears and flaws. We donate a fraction of our ill-gotten wealth, hoping to atone for our past misdeeds. We're adept at pretending to be something we're not, hiding behind a façade of piety. We take pride in our Jain heritage and flaunt our Jain surnames, but when it comes to genuinely embracing the principles of Jainism, we conjure up excuses to justify our modern lifestyle. But have we ever stopped to observe the Jain munis and tapasvis? They've relinquished all worldly attachments, renouncing everything they don't need. Clad in simple, bare-essential attire, they brave the harshest winters and shine like the sun in the sweltering summers. To protect the tiny insects that emerge during the rainy season, they remain stationary for four months, walking barefoot and building hospitals for animals and birds, as well as cow sheds to safeguard them from slaughter. Despite eschewing perfumes, their presence is fragrant, akin to the scent of roses. Though they're human and prone to illness, they never resort to medication, yet they remain strong. Their ornaments are tyag and tapasya, and they're fully immersed in meditation and spiritual pursuits. They pluck their own hair, unaided by scissors, and shun artificial conveniences, including mobile phones. Their sustenance consists of whatever is offered to them in their anjuli, ensuring that their food doesn't contain plants that have been uprooted. Their palate is simple, with limited flavours. They're true Jain followers, unwavering in their commitment to the principles of Jainism. They're the embodiment of a Jain muni – penniless, yet priceless.