The world is useful, but not ultimately Real
The status of the world as per Advaita Vedanta is so astounding, and also, so fun.
Spend enough time around spiritual traditions and a pattern begins to emerge. You’ll hear that life is suffering. That desire binds. That the world is impermanent, unsatisfactory, and ultimately not worth clinging to.
This view, most famously expressed in Buddhism, is precise and powerful. It exposes the instability of life, the inevitability of loss, and the illusion of control.
But there’s another voice, quieter yet radiant, rising from the same soil. It comes from Advaita Vedanta, a voice that looks at the same world and says something surprising.
“Yes, it’s impermanent… and that’s why it’s beautiful.”
“Yes, it’s not ultimately real… and that’s what makes it play.”
Where Buddhism emphasizes renunciation through insight, Advaita offers freedom through recognition. It doesn’t ask you to reject the world or cling to it. It invites you to see through it. And in doing so, to see more clearly and more joyfully.
Swami Vivekananda called this world a play, a cosmic drama in which we are divine actors. Ramana Maharshi said the world is an expression of the Self, not separate from it. And Sri Ramakrishna, with the innocent authority of a sage, called it a mansion of mirth.
This piece is about that vision. The vision that says life is not a trap. It is a stage. You are not here to escape it. You are here to play your part and remember who you are, even as the scene changes.
Let’s begin.
Vivekananda: “It Is All Play”
Swami Vivekananda didn’t just speak about the world being unreal. He went further and said it is all play. And when you read his words, they carry both thunder and laughter.
“You are the almighty God playing. If you want to play on the side and take the part of a beggar, you enjoy being the beggar… You know your real nature to be divine. It is all fun. Know it and play.”
The power of this idea is not in making life superficial. It lies in lifting us out of self-inflicted seriousness. We are not here to renounce life in disgust. We are here to live it fully, knowing that its weight is temporary. We suffer most when we forget that we are in a play. The moment we remember, the fear softens. Even pain begins to have space around it.
“The whole universe is a vast play. All is good because all is fun.”
This can sound insensitive if misunderstood. But Vivekananda doesn’t mean we should laugh at others’ suffering or dismiss real challenges. Rather, he invites us to rise into a perspective that holds everything - joy and pain, victory and defeat - as part of a larger unfolding.
We still live, love, fall, struggle, and grow. But we do so without clinging. We remember who we are beneath the mask.
“This toy world would not be here if we were knowing players. We must play blindfolded. Some of us take the role of rogues, some of heroes. Never mind. It is all play.”
Natak, and the king who dances
In Vedantic thought, the metaphor of Natak or divine play is more than just poetic language. It is a profound pointer toward the nature of reality itself.
The world, according to Advaita, is not an absolute truth. It appears and disappears in the light of consciousness, much like a drama staged before a silent witness. It has rhythm, emotion, character, movement — but its essence lies not in the performance, but in the one who watches.
This is where the metaphor of Natak becomes powerful.
It tells us: You are not ultimately the character. You are the awareness in which the entire performance arises.
And remarkably, this insight is enshrined in the very name of God — Nataraja.
The word Nataraja comes from nata, meaning actor or performer, and raja, meaning king. Nataraja literally means the King of Nataks.
This is not coincidence. It is theology with a twinkle in its eye. If God Himself is the King of the Play, then what does that say about us?
It says something radical: we are not meant to suffer through life as burdened spectators. We are meant to dance knowing it is all a play!
We are meant to participate in the drama of life with full presence, but without forgetting our true nature. Just as Nataraja performs the cosmic dance while remaining rooted in stillness, we too are invited to act in the world while remembering that we are not bound by it.
This is why Swami Vivekananda said:
“God is our eternal playmate. How beautifully He is playing. The play is finished when the cycle ends. There is rest. And again, we all come out and play.”
The vision here is not distant or mythological. It is intimate and immediate.
The same intelligence that moves the galaxies also animates your breath, your thoughts, your laughter, and your tears.
And if He is the King of the Play, then perhaps our highest spiritual posture is not withdrawal or cynicism, but conscious participation touched by joy.
When Life Becomes Too Serious
We’ve all had moments when life feels unbearably heavy. The demands of work, relationships, uncertainty, or personal pain can become overwhelming. We try to solve life. We try to control it. We grip harder.
But Vedanta offers a quiet, surprising alternative. It asks us to loosen the grip. To remember that this is not the ultimate reality. To remember the play.
“But as soon as you give up the serious idea of reality as the characteristic of the changing incidents of the three minutes of life and know it to be but a stage on which we are playing, helping Him to play, at once misery ceases for you.”
This doesn’t mean ignoring reality or pretending problems don’t exist. It means we stop carrying them as if they define who we are.
Even Vivekananda spoke of Christ’s crucifixion as part of this Leela, the divine play. He wasn’t mocking the suffering. He was revealing something deeper — that even in the most painful parts of life, there is a deeper truth holding it all.
A Personal Reflection: From Intensity to Lightness
I used to think of spiritual life as a mission. Something to accomplish. Something to win. I approached it like a project, with focus and discipline, but also with a lot of seriousness.
Over time, something in me began to relax. The teachings of Vivekananda and Ramana began to melt the edges of that intensity.
I began to see that this whole thing - life, spirituality, even seeking is not about tightening the grip. It is about softening the heart.
It is not about escaping the world. It is about playing your part with love while remembering the stage you’re on.
Now, when I feel lost or low, I ask myself:
Is this the part of the play where the character struggles?
Okay, let me play it well. Let me give it depth. Let me stay rooted in who I am, even while acting the scene.
This shift didn’t make me careless. It made me kinder. It made me curious again. It made me feel more alive.
🌸 Epilogue: A Mansion of Mirth
The world is useful. It teaches us. It humbles us. It gives us moments to love, grow, reflect, and rise.
But it is not ultimately real. It is not a prison. It is not a punishment. It is, as Sri Ramakrishna so joyfully said,
“a mansion of mirth.”
We are guests in this luminous mansion. We pass through its halls — some grand, some shadowy — but always held in the laughter of the One who built it.
This mansion is not meant to be escaped in fear. It is not meant to be possessed in greed. It is meant to be wandered through with wonder, with gratitude, and with playfulness.
Because the builder of this mansion is not a stern architect. He is a playful artist.
Behind every scene — the joy, the sorrow, the stillness, the storm — is the rhythm of that Cosmic Dancer.
That is the meaning of Nataraja.
That is the smile in Vivekananda’s thunder.
That is the stillness at the heart of Ramana’s silence.
So live your life. Strive. Fall. Serve. Create. Laugh. Cry.
But somewhere within, carry this quiet knowing:
It is all play.
And this world is a mansion of mirth.
And that is what makes it sacred.
The difficult questions of "reality and utility of life" is wonderfully explained, answered and articulted. Interspersing quotes by great saints with your own experiences and insights grounds the writing and keeps it real :)
Loved the paragraph "This mansion is not meant to be escaped in fear. It is not meant to be possessed in greed. It is meant to be wandered through with wonder, with gratitude, and with playfulness. Imho this is exactly middle path taught by Sri Krishna in Bhagavad Gita, the loving mother of all :)