𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃
- Madhukar Dama
- 8 hours ago
- 12 min read
You think you live on food, on sleep, on emotions, on ideas.
But you live on sunlight.
Every fruit, every breath, every heartbeat is sunlight in disguise.
Plants drink it, animals eat the plants, and you eat both —
yet none of that matters if your own skin never sees the source.
Every craving you have is a memory of that missing light.
Your hunger is not for sugar; it’s for photons.
Your fatigue is not from overwork; it’s from cells that never charged.
Your sadness is not emotional; it’s biological darkness spreading through your mind.
You have replaced the sun with screens, the sky with ceilings,
and now your body is searching for light in everything else.
You eat more to fill an emptiness that isn’t in your stomach.
You keep reaching for snacks, scrolling for stimulation, shopping for comfort.
You are not addicted to food or entertainment —
you are addicted to the idea of being alive again.
And that feeling comes free every morning,
when sunlight hits your eyes and tells your brain, “Wake up, this is life.”
You think coffee gives you energy;
it only borrows from tomorrow.
Sunlight gives you energy that renews itself — real energy, clean, endless.
When morning light touches your skin,
your body remembers the rhythm it was born with.
Your cortisol rises gently, your digestion wakes,
your cells start to breathe again.
The fire inside you learns its timing from the fire above.
You chase productivity with planners, workshops, and deadlines.
You don’t see that the sun never hurries — yet everything gets done.
When you stand under the sun, you see pace differently.
There’s no rush in nature, yet nothing stops growing.
Sunlight gives you clarity — not ambition, but direction.
It makes your work lighter, your thoughts cleaner, your effort precise.
You think depression needs medication.
What it really needs is morning.
Sunlight whispers serotonin into your brain,
telling it that life is safe, that joy is still available.
It doesn’t preach; it just shines, and everything inside adjusts itself quietly.
You think anxiety comes from people or pressure.
It comes from confusion between night and day inside your body.
When your nervous system sees light, it exhales.
When your eyes meet dawn, the chaos inside you slows down.
You stop fighting the world because you start syncing with it.
You think burnout is mental; it’s solar exhaustion.
You’ve been living under artificial light so long that your hormones
don’t know when to start or stop.
Step out for ten minutes. Let your eyelids feel the real glow.
Watch what happens — your heart rate steadies,
your mind clears, your chest opens.
That’s not psychology; that’s physics of being alive.
You think your cravings are personal weakness.
They’re just your body begging for energy in the only language it remembers —
hunger, restlessness, desire, addiction.
But sunlight speaks the original tongue.
When it enters your blood, all the wrong hungers fall silent.
You stop needing so much.
You stop reaching outward.
The craving ends because the current returns.
You think you’re lazy, but you’re just undercharged.
No machine runs without power.
Sunlight is the plug you’ve been ignoring.
You think you’re old, but you’re just dimmed.
Sunlight renews you faster than any supplement ever could.
Your hormones, your heartbeat, your appetite, your dreams —
they all depend on the same simple signal: light has arrived.
Miss that signal, and your biology forgets its order.
Catch it, and your body repairs itself without asking.
The mind quiets.
The breath deepens.
The craving ends.
You come home.
---
𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄
Lack of sunlight is lack of everything.
It’s not just a vitamin deficiency — it’s the soul dimming at the edges.
It’s the world forgetting how to pulse.
No pill, no doctor, no philosophy can fix a body that lives in darkness.
You can’t outthink what only light can heal.
Step out.
Let the first light of the day touch your skin before your phone does.
Stand there quietly.
Don’t pray, don’t plan, don’t speak. Just receive.
Because everything you’re chasing — peace, energy, balance, joy, focus, sleep, clarity —
is already shining above you.
You don’t have to earn it.
You just have to let it in.
You don’t live on sunlight.
You live because of it.
And the moment you remember that,
your cravings end.
Your fatigue ends.
Your confusion ends.
Only life remains — bright, rhythmic, effortless.
You’ve always needed sunlight.
You just forgot how to look up.
---
---
𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃 — 𝐀 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐑. 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐇𝐔𝐊𝐀𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐀
It was still early morning near Yelmadagi.
The mist had not fully lifted from the hills when Adhya opened the bamboo gate for the group.
Anju followed, carrying small cups of hot, bitter Mother Simarouba Kashaya.
The six visitors sat under a tamarind tree beside Dr. Madhukar Dama’s stone bench — half sun, half shadow.
Birds rustled in the distance.
Dr. Dama said nothing for a while.
He let them sit. He let them breathe.
---
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐑
Engineer: “I feel drained all the time, Doctor. I work late nights, sleep late mornings. I’ve tried meditation, coffee, vitamins — nothing fixes this fatigue.”
Dr. Dama: “You’ve tried everything except light. Fatigue is not a lack of rest — it’s lack of recharge. Your mitochondria make energy from sunlight. Without it, you’re trying to charge a solar panel in the dark. Your eyes, your skin, your nerves — they all depend on dawn.”
The engineer looks at his cup, then at the sunlight inching toward his shoes.
---
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑
Homemaker: “I’m always tired, Doctor. I cook, clean, stay inside most of the day. I barely go out. My reports show low vitamin D and thyroid imbalance. Is this connected?”
Dr. Dama: “Of course. You live under a roof but the body needs the open sky. Sunlight is not only vitamin D — it’s hormonal balance. It tells every gland when to work and when to rest. Without that cue, your body runs without a clock. Fatigue is not from housework. It’s from timelessness.”
Adhya quietly places another cup before her. The woman nods slowly, as if remembering something she never noticed — her curtains always drawn.
---
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑
Teenager: “I can’t focus on studies. I stay up till late watching videos. I feel anxious all the time. Even when I sleep, it doesn’t feel like sleep.”
Dr. Dama: “That’s what happens when night becomes your day. Your brain is confused. Melatonin, dopamine, serotonin — all follow light. When sunlight stops entering your eyes, your thoughts stop lining up. Anxiety is just your body asking for morning.”
He turns slightly, pointing toward the field beyond the fence.
“Walk there every morning for a week. No phone. Just walk and look at the horizon. The mind will find its own silence.”
The boy’s eyes follow his hand. The sky is already bright gold.
---
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐑
Officer: “Doctor, I’ve got diabetes, pressure, cholesterol — three pills morning, three at night. I go for morning walks, but mostly after sunrise. Still, nothing improves.”
Dr. Dama: “You walk after sunrise; your body wakes before it. These pills only manage numbers, not rhythm. The sun must touch your skin and eyes when the world is still cool and golden. That’s the medicine your body understands. It resets everything — insulin, pressure, mood.”
The officer frowns gently. “So you mean… the light itself heals?”
Dr. Dama: “Not just heals — teaches. Every organ listens to the light before it listens to the mind.”
---
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐑
The farmer sits quietly, sipping his Kashaya.
His skin glows bronze; his hands are steady.
He hasn’t spoken a word.
Dr. Dama (smiling): “See him? He doesn’t visit clinics or track calories. His clock is set by the sun. He sweats, eats, and rests when the light tells him. That’s the secret of health — obedience to nature without overthinking.”
The others glance at the farmer. He smiles softly, the kind that doesn’t need explaining.
---
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑
Influencer: “I promote clean eating and supplements, Doctor. But lately, I feel dull, unfocused. My followers expect me to look glowing all the time, but I feel empty inside.”
Dr. Dama: “Your glow can’t come from a brand. It comes from your blood, and your blood glows only when it meets light. You can’t filter sunlight through a phone camera. Go live, not online. Walk barefaced under morning sun for ten minutes a day — it will do more for your followers than any post.”
The influencer looks up from her phone. For a moment, she actually sees the sunlight fall on her hand — and doesn’t reach to adjust it.
---
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍
The tree’s shadow had moved.
Now half of them sat in light.
No one spoke. The morning hum was enough.
Dr. Dama looked around slowly. “You see, all your cravings — for food, work, success, comfort — are just disguised hunger for sunlight. When the body misses real energy, it begs for substitutes. You keep feeding the noise, but never the source.”
He lifted his cup and sipped the last of the bitter drink.
“Sunlight is the source of all energy. Everything you eat is stored light — plants only borrowed it for you. Every thought, every breath, every movement burns light inside you. When that light fades, life begins to ache.”
He paused, voice calm but firm.
“You don’t have to fix everything. Just let sunlight touch your body before your phone does. The rest follows.”
---
Adhya and Anju began gathering the cups.
The morning had ripened into full gold.
Each visitor sat quietly — no guilt, no excitement, just a faint, clean stillness.
The engineer stood first, looked up, and said softly, “I think I’ve been living under a roof for years without realizing it.”
The homemaker smiled faintly. The teenager stretched his arms.
Even the influencer closed her camera app.
Dr. Dama looked at them and said, almost in a whisper —
“Lack of sunlight is lack of everything. Step outside, and half your problems will dissolve before you name them.”
They nodded, each carrying away a bottle of Simarouba Kashaya and a pouch of castor oil —
but more than that, a single instruction echoing quietly inside:
“Go see the sun.”
-------
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---
𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐓
by Dr. Madhukar Dama
The sun had just risen over Yelmadagi again.
The same tamarind tree. The same ground. The same faint smell of simmering Simarouba Kashaya coming from the kitchen.
But this morning, something was different — the visitors looked different.
Adhya and Anju waved as they entered through the bamboo gate.
They placed the earthen cups one by one on the mat.
The group sat down, familiar now with the silence.
---
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐑
His face had colour this time. The dark circles had faded.
He spoke slower, eyes clear.
Engineer: “I started stepping out every morning before logging in. Just ten minutes of sun, nothing else. The first week I felt restless. Then something shifted. My mind got quieter. I stopped reaching for coffee all the time. Work feels lighter now — like it’s not consuming me.”
Dr. Dama (smiling): “Your body found its current again. Energy from within, not from caffeine.”
---
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑
Her face looked relaxed; she wasn’t fidgeting anymore.
Homemaker: “I began sitting near the window every morning while cutting vegetables. Then I moved outside. I don’t feel that heaviness anymore. I still do the same chores — but somehow, I don’t get tired. My husband says I smile more often.”
Dr. Dama: “That’s because your body finally met the day before your duties did.”
She laughed softly, as if hearing her own story from someone else.
---
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑
He sat straighter now, not slouched like last time.
Teenager: “You told me to walk every morning. I didn’t believe it would help, but I did. I leave my phone at home. I walk toward the fields and just stand there sometimes. I don’t even know why, but I feel calmer. I study better. And I don’t fight with my parents as much.”
Dr. Dama: “The light outside rebuilt the light inside. When the brain meets the sun, everything aligns quietly.”
The boy nodded, a small grin spreading across his face — the kind that stays even after silence returns.
---
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐑
He unfolded his cloth bag and showed Dr. Dama a notebook.
Officer: “I started noting my sugar readings. The morning walk before sunrise worked better than any pill. My pressure dropped too. The doctor in town reduced one medicine. I didn’t even change my diet much.”
Dr. Dama: “Because your timing changed. Every organ follows light. The right light brings order. Medicine becomes support, not control.”
The officer closed his notebook slowly, eyes wet with gratitude.
---
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐑
He smiled the same calm smile as before.
Farmer: “Doctor, I didn’t change anything. Still wake before dawn, still work with the sun.”
Dr. Dama (grinning): “You are my reminder that good health isn’t found — it’s remembered.”
They both laughed quietly.
---
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑
She looked different — no heavy makeup, no anxious brightness in her eyes.
Influencer: “I stopped promoting supplements. I started posting sunrise pictures instead. I thought my followers would leave, but more people connected. I talk about real sunlight now — how it feels, not how it sells.”
Dr. Dama: “That’s real influence — the kind that brings people back to the source, not further from it.”
She looked down, touched the cup gently, and whispered, “I didn’t realise sunlight was this emotional.”
Dr. Dama: “It is. It feeds the soul as much as the cell.”
---
The light had grown stronger now, filtering through the tamarind leaves, drawing bright patterns on everyone’s faces.
No one was in a hurry to leave.
Dr. Dama leaned back, eyes half closed.
“This is what healing looks like,” he said softly.
“Not in hospitals, not in tablets — in rhythm. When your body starts moving with the sun, your mind stops fighting the day.”
The group sat in silence.
The birds sang. The tea boiled again in the kitchen.
And the sun, unbothered, kept shining on them all — equally, endlessly.
---
𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆
As they prepared to leave, Dr. Dama handed each of them a new bottle of Mother Simarouba Kashaya and a pouch of cold-pressed castor oil.
He smiled and said gently:
“Keep the same rules.
No milk, no sugar, no maida, no refined oil.
Eat what grows near you, in its season.
Move every morning under the sun.
Let sweat be your proof of being alive.”
He paused, looking at them one by one.
“Remember, sunlight doesn’t just heal the body. It resets the life you forgot to live.”
They bowed lightly, walked out through the bamboo gate —
each one carrying home not just a bottle,
but a new dawn waiting inside them.
---
---
𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐄𝐃
You wake up late
pulling curtains like sins
checking a phone that never loved you.
The day is already gone
before it begins.
Your house smells of reheated food,
old news,
and a body that hasn’t seen the outside
since it started working from inside.
You eat because you are empty,
you scroll because you are empty,
you work because you are empty.
And the sunlight keeps waiting
outside your window
like a dog you never let in.
You think you are intelligent,
earning, learning,
posting wise things about balance and growth,
but you haven’t seen a sunrise
in ten years.
You buy books on how to breathe,
you watch videos on how to be calm,
you think walking on a treadmill
is the same as walking on earth.
You think vitamins in plastic bottles
can replace the sun.
You are wrong.
You are dying in the shade
of your own inventions.
The city is a cave
with screens for torches.
You don’t even look at each other anymore —
the light from your devices
is the only light you trust.
And that light
never touches your skin.
---
Out there,
the world still works on older rules.
The farmer’s body still glows
because he wakes before the sky.
The street dogs stretch at dawn,
the crows sing before anyone listens,
the trees yawn in slow green breath.
Every living thing still obeys the sun.
Except you.
---
You talk about purpose.
But purpose is simple.
It begins where the sun touches you.
That’s it.
The morning is not asking you
to pray,
or achieve,
or become better.
It just wants you
to show up.
To stand there
barefoot,
half-asleep,
feeling foolish maybe —
until something deep inside
starts melting,
like ice remembering water.
That is how you heal.
Not by searching.
By thawing.
---
I’ve seen men who earned everything
but still looked grey.
I’ve seen women
with kitchen shelves full of pills
but eyes that forgot laughter.
I’ve seen teenagers
who don’t know where east is.
I’ve seen babies
whose first touch of light
came from a bulb.
And I’ve seen
the ones who walked out —
slowly,
without a reason,
without any belief left —
just walked
into the morning.
Their skin turned gold again.
Their breath steadied.
Their faces softened.
You can’t fake that glow.
You can’t buy it.
You can’t advertise it.
You can only earn it
by standing where life is born.
---
The sun is not a god.
It doesn’t care who you are.
It won’t bless you.
It will burn you first.
Then it will clean you.
Then it will remind you
that you belong to the same fire.
Every cell in your body
is a small imitation of that flame.
You keep feeding it junk,
anger,
noise,
screens,
dead food,
and call it living.
But the fire inside
was not meant to survive on shadows.
It wants the real thing.
It wants sunlight.
---
So, go.
Open the door.
Let the morning find you
before you find your reasons not to.
Don’t plan it.
Don’t measure it.
Just stand still.
Let the light fall on your eyes,
your hands,
your tired shoulders,
your neck that forgot to lift.
Don’t pray.
Don’t talk.
Don’t wish for peace.
Peace will come.
Like warmth after cold.
Like forgiveness after forgetting.
---
And when it does,
you’ll realise
you never needed healing.
You just needed sunlight.
Everything else —
the hunger,
the sleep,
the sadness,
the wanting —
they were all one language
saying the same thing.
Let me see the sun again.
---
Evening will come.
Work will call.
Life will go on.
But once you’ve met the morning
face to face,
you’ll never fully go back.
You’ll still eat,
still argue,
still forget,
still chase,
but a small part of you
will stay lit —
quietly alive
and waiting
for the next dawn.
---
And that, my friend,
is not poetry.
That’s sunlight
remembering its way home
through you.
---
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