Awaken the Giant: A Tribute to Swami Vivekananda

They called him Narendra first— a boy with fire in his heart, a mind that danced with stars while the city slept in the dark. His questions shook the ground: "Where is God? What is the truth?" "Don’t give me words or songs— I want to feel it in my youth!" Then came the storm—Ramakrishna— a saint who smiled at the sky, and said, "You want the ocean? Then dive in. Don’t be shy." And Naren—oh Naren— he opened his chest, let the universe pour in, and was born again: Vivekananda— the joy of clear seeing. 1893. Chicago. A hall full of suits and doubts. They looked at his robe, whispered, "Exotic… maybe devout." But when he stood up, his voice shook the floor: "Sisters and brothers of America!" —and the silence roared. Not just sound— it was awakening. It cracked the West wide open like thunder on a sleeping mountain. He spoke of Vedanta— not as some book to fear. He said: "You’re not your body. Not your pain. Not your past. You are the Infinite— alive, free, vast." And the world? It listened. But here’s what the textbooks skip: He walked barefoot, slept hungry, with nothing but grit. He didn’t chase fame, he carried flames. "Arise, Awake, and stop not," he said— not for statues or shrines, but for broken minds still chained by caste, greed, and blind belief. So what about us? We share his quotes, wear his face on t-shirts— but forget what he meant us to be. He didn’t want worship. He wanted fire. He asked: "What’s your austerity (tapasya)? What truth do you desire?" Swami Vivekananda— not just a man, but a mirror. Look into it. What do you see? A follower? Or the giant he knew you could be? Jai Swamiji. Now—awaken the giant in you.