In Viveka Chudamani, Adi Shankaracharya reflects on the five senses in Verse 76, illustrating his point with five vivid examples:
A deer is undone by its attachment to sound.
An elephant is overpowered by its sense of touch.
A moth is drawn helplessly to what it sees, especially sources of light.
A fish falls prey to its irresistible attraction to taste.
A bee is captivated by the fragrance of flowers, its sense of smell becoming its downfall.
In each of these creatures, a single dominant sense becomes a vulnerability that enslaves them.
Shankaracharya then poses a striking question: what fate awaits a human being who is attached to all five senses at once?
We can already see the consequences. Our excessive fascination with taste alone has led to widespread deterioration of physical health. Overindulgence in the other senses is expressing itself as a rise in various mental and emotional disorders.
Modern technology only accelerates this. Apps that track engagement care little about how much we strain our sense of sight. OTT platforms that promote binge-watching are unconcerned about the relentless stimulation of sight and sound.
The intellect—which is meant to regulate and guide the senses—is gradually becoming dull, making genuine reflection and critical thinking rare.
Regaining this lost mastery requires what Swami Dayananda Saraswati calls “internal leisure”, a quietening of the mind that allows the intellect to sharpen and reclaim its natural authority over the senses.
How can “internal leisure” be possible in a world where leaders glorify 70-hour workweeks and productivity is judged by the number of hours spent in the office—regardless of how many tea or smoke breaks one takes, as long as one is physically present?
It is no surprise, then, that the weekend makes one weakened (to borrow Swami Paramarthananda’s phrase), as many of us overindulge in those two days to make up for the absence of real leisure throughout the week.