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Quote on this is the way by Rumi

Quote on this is the way by Rumi

I know you’re tired but come, this is the way.


Quote on this is the way by Rumi

The Guiding Light: A Journey of Perseverance


“I know you’re tired but come, this is the way.”

In the heart of the Himalayas, where ancient trails wound through mist-shrouded forests, lived a young monk named Kavi. His days were a blend of prayer, meditation, and the rhythmic chant of mantras. Yet, beneath his serene exterior lay a weariness—a quiet ache that whispered of distant peaks and hidden truths.

The Mountain’s Call

Kavi had heard tales of the Sacred Summit—the highest peak that touched the heavens. The elders spoke of its ethereal beauty, its snow-capped majesty. But the journey was treacherous, the path winding through icy crevasses and wind-battered cliffs. The chains of doubt held him back, their weight like boulders on his shoulders.

The Whispering Wind

One moonless night, Kavi sat by the monastery fire, its flames dancing like ancient spirits. An old sage approached, eyes crinkled with wisdom. “Child,” he said, “the summit awaits those who dare. I know you’re tired, but come, this is the way.” His words echoed in Kavi’s heart—the call to ascend beyond exhaustion.

The Silent Ascent

Each dawn, Kavi donned his saffron robes and stepped onto the rocky trail. The wind whispered secrets—the language of eagles and forgotten saints. His feet bled, his breath ragged, but he pressed on. The chains of fear loosened; determination became his staff. He climbed toward the stars, guided by the sage’s echo.

The Summit’s Revelation

One frost-kissed morning, Kavi stood atop the Sacred Summit. The world lay below—a tapestry of valleys and mist. Tears blurred his vision; he had become the whisper in the wind. The chains had melted, replaced by wings of resolve. The sage’s words echoed once more: “I know you’re tired, but come, this is the way.”

The Descent of Wisdom

Kavi returned to the monastery, his eyes alight with revelation. The other monks gathered, eager for his tale. He spoke of endurance, of surrendering to the path. “The summit,” he said, “is not a destination; it’s a mirror reflecting our inner peaks.” The chains of weariness were now threads of enlightenment.


“I know you’re tired but come, this is the way.” Kavi etched these words into the monastery walls. Pilgrims arrived, seeking solace. They climbed, stumbled, and soared. And as they reached the summit, they understood—the journey was not about conquering mountains, but about unshackling the spirit. The way was within, and weariness merely a guide.

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Written by pragya singh

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