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EQUIP, EXPAND AND ENHANCE

Nayan Bhowmick
www.keytowealth.org

There are moments when three ordinary words suddenly begin to carry a much deeper meaning.

For me, these three words are: EQUIP. EXPAND. ENHANCE.

Initially, they may sound like words from a training programme—equip ourselves with knowledge, expand our abilities and enhance our performance. But when I look at them through the experiences of life, they seem to say something much more profound.

They make me ask:

What am I equipping myself for? What should I expand within myself? And what, ultimately, am I trying to enhance?

Perhaps the answers are connected not merely with achievement, but with our ability to perform the different duties that life gradually places before us.

Are We Trained for Temptation?

We are reasonably well trained to handle the normal situations of life. Education prepares us to read, calculate, communicate and earn. Professional training teaches us how to perform a job. Experience gradually teaches us how to deal with difficulties.

But there is another kind of situation for which perhaps we are not equally trained: temptation.

The temptation to choose comfort over preparation. The temptation to postpone something important because something pleasurable is available now. The temptation to stop learning after reaching a certain level. The temptation to seek recognition before acquiring competence. The temptation to abandon discipline when nobody is watching.

Interestingly, these situations may not look like crises at all. There is no alarm. There is no visible danger. Yet some of life’s most consequential decisions may quietly happen in precisely these moments.

Perhaps difficulty and temptation test two different parts of us:

  1. Difficulty tests our endurance.
  2. Temptation tests our priorities.

This thought makes the familiar line about champions particularly meaningful to me:

“Rain or shine, champions show up for training and practice.”

— R. Gopinath

The championship may be visible. The training usually is not.

When I think about this, Lovlina Borgohain comes to mind.

India saw her standing on the Olympic podium after winning bronze at Tokyo 2020. She later became a world champion in 2023. Those are the visible moments of an extraordinary sporting journey. But every medal has an invisible history.

Behind a few minutes in the ring are years of practice, physical conditioning, repetition, controlled routines, disappointments and innumerable choices between immediate comfort and a distant objective.

That is perhaps the part of a champion’s story that interests me most.

It makes me wonder whether discipline is really about doing something difficult once. Perhaps discipline is more often about making a small choice repeatedly when an easier alternative is available.

The great moment merely reveals what thousands of ordinary moments have already created.

Arjuna Was Prepared Before Kurukshetra

Our mythology offers a remarkably similar reflection.

Arjuna did not become Arjuna on the battlefield of Kurukshetra. His ability had been built much earlier—through learning, concentration, discipline and practice.

The famous episode of the bird’s eye is therefore more than a childhood story from the Mahabharata. It can also be read as a metaphor for the concentration required to keep the essential separate from the distracting.

And yet, something fascinating happens at Kurukshetra. The highly trained warrior suddenly finds himself unable to act.

His hands know how to hold the bow. His mind knows the science of warfare. But the conflict before him is no longer merely technical.

The battlefield has moved inside him.

That is where the Bhagavad Gita begins.

And among its most remembered verses is:

कर्मण्येवाधिकारस्ते मा फलेषु कदाचन।

मा कर्मफलहेतुर्भूर्मा ते सङ्गोऽस्त्वकर्मणि॥

— Bhagavad Gita 2.47

I find this verse particularly meaningful when read not as advice to somebody else, but as a reminder to oneself.

There will always be outcomes beyond my control. Recognition may come or may not come. Success may arrive immediately or much later.

But there remains an area where my responsibility is much clearer: my preparation, my effort and the sincerity of the action before me.

Perhaps this is the first meaning of EQUIP.

EQUIP — More Than Acquiring Knowledge

To equip myself cannot mean merely collecting information. Knowledge certainly matters. Professional competence matters. Financial independence matters.

But life eventually asks for other forms of preparedness too.

Am I equipped with patience when things move slowly?

Am I equipped with courage when circumstances become uncertain?

Am I equipped with self-control when temptation appears?

Am I equipped with humility to learn something again?

Am I equipped emotionally to carry the responsibilities that accompany success?

Education may prepare the intellect.

Life seems to require preparation of the will as well.

And perhaps the second is considerably harder.

EXPAND — The Hanuman Within

The word Expand takes my thoughts to another beautiful episode from our mythology.

Before Hanuman’s great leap across the ocean in the Ramayana, Jambavan reminds him of the enormous capability already residing within him.

There is something deeply human in that episode. Sometimes our limitation may not be an absence of ability. It may simply be that a capability has remained unrecognised, untested or undeveloped.

This gives expansion a different meaning.

Expansion need not mean only more income, a bigger position or greater recognition. There are other things that can expand:

Knowledge, patience, courage, competence, empathy, resilience—and our capacity to accept responsibility.

Even the circle of responsibility seems to expand naturally through life.

SELF → FAMILY → SOCIETY → NATION

It begins with learning to take responsibility for oneself. Gradually, other lives become connected with ours.

Family begins to depend upon us. Our profession creates responsibilities towards people whom we may never have known personally. Society gives us opportunities, institutions and infrastructure from which we benefit.

And somewhere beyond all these individual relationships exists the larger idea of the nation.

Perhaps maturity is partly this quiet expansion—from asking only “What do I need?” to occasionally wondering:

“Where am I needed?”

Whenever I think about developing one’s inner capacity, Swami Vivekananda inevitably comes to mind.

What continues to fascinate me about Swamiji is not only the brilliance of his words, but the intensity of preparation and dedication behind them.

His life was not merely a search for personal advancement. His travels across India exposed him intimately to the realities of the country and its people. His thinking increasingly connected individual strength with character, education and service.

One of the recurring ideas associated with his educational thought was man-making and character-building.

That expression makes me reflect.

Perhaps information tells me what I know. Skill tells me what I can do.

But character becomes visible when I have to decide what I will do—particularly when another choice is easier.

That returns me once again to temptation.

It is comparatively easy to admire discipline. It is harder to practise it when comfort is immediately available. It is easy to appreciate sacrifice after seeing somebody’s achievement. It is different when the sacrifice is being demanded from me today and the result is nowhere in sight.

Perhaps this is why strength, in Swamiji’s thought, was much more than physical strength.

There is also the strength to remain committed to a meaningful purpose.

ENHANCE — Can I Do My Duty Better?

Then comes the third word: Enhance.

There is an interesting difference between performing a duty and becoming increasingly competent to perform it.

That is why these three simple statements appeal to me:

  • Enjoy performing your duties.
  • Enjoy gaining competence to perform your duties.
  • Be grateful for the opportunity to perform your duties.

The progression is subtle.

At first, duty may feel like an obligation. Then competence can make the same duty meaningful. And eventually there may come a stage when responsibility itself begins to look different.

Instead of thinking, “Why do I have to carry this responsibility?” I may sometimes be able to think, “How fortunate that I am still capable of carrying it.”

Nothing outside has changed. The responsibility remains exactly the same. Only my relationship with it has changed.

Perhaps that is another form of enhancement.

The Quiet Battle Within

The Mahabharata, the Ramayana, the life of Swami Vivekananda and the journey of a modern athlete such as Lovlina belong to completely different contexts. Yet I find an interesting thread connecting them.

  • Preparation before performance.
  • Discipline before achievement.
  • Inner strength before outer accomplishment.
  • Responsibility beyond convenience.

And this brings me to a slightly uncomfortable thought.

Perhaps the most difficult battles of life do not always announce themselves as battles.

Sometimes there is no Kurukshetra before me. There is simply a comfortable chair when I should be working. A distraction when I should be learning. An excuse when I should be practising. A pleasure that can wait. An important conversation that I keep postponing. An opportunity to contribute that I assume somebody else will take care of.

These are very small moments.

But perhaps character itself is assembled from such small moments.

Much of life is naturally measured through visible achievements:

Qualifications, Income, Position, Property, Recognition, Awards.

They matter. There is no need to diminish them.

But perhaps there is another balance sheet that becomes more interesting with time.

What became better because I was here?

Did I become more capable than I was yesterday?

Was I dependable when my family needed me?

Did somebody benefit from something I knew?

Did my profession receive sincerity from me?

Did society receive something in return for the opportunities it gave me?

Did my country receive even a small contribution from my education, work and experience?

I do not think these questions always require immediate answers. Some questions are valuable simply because they accompany us.

A Reminder to Myself

And so I return to those three words with which I began:

EQUIP. EXPAND. ENHANCE.

Perhaps Equip is about preparing myself—not only with knowledge and skill, but also with discipline and character.

Perhaps Expand is about discovering capacities within myself and gradually enlarging the circle of my responsibility—from self to family, from family to society, and from society to the nation.

Perhaps Enhance is the continuing effort to become a little more competent in whatever responsibility life has already placed before me.

Arjuna reminds me that action requires inner clarity.