This is the first post in Dharma Decoded; a series where I share the podcasts, books, and videos helping me understand Sanatan Dharma (Hindusim) properly. Starting from scratch, as a British Indian (certified brown girlie) who grew up with the culture but not the knowledge.

Here’s something I’m a little embarrassed to admit.

I grew up in a Hindu household. We had a mandir in our puja room. My dad did aarti every morning. Diwali was the biggest night of the year. I knew the names — Krishna, Arjuna, Draupadi, Bhishma. I’d seen clips of the Mahabharata on Star Plus. I thought I knew the story.

I didn’t know anything.

It wasn’t until I started listening to Stories of Mahabharata by Sudipta Bhaumik that I realised how much had been lost in translation, literally and culturally, between my grandparents’ generation and mine. Nobody sat me down and explained the lineage, the philosophy, the weight of it. It was just… assumed. Or skipped. Or simplified into something that fit between dinner and homework.

This podcast changed that for me.

What the podcast actually is

Stories of Mahabharata is a fully serialised, fully produced audio retelling of the entire Mahabharata , from the very beginning, all the way through the Kurukshetra war and beyond. Over 60 episodes. Sudipta Bhaumik narrates every single one, and the production includes original music and sound design that makes it feel more like an audiobook drama than a podcast.

It’s available on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, Youtube and most major platforms. It’s free. And it will absolutely consume your commute for the next few months.

Why the narration hits differently

I want to talk about this specifically because I think it’s what separates this podcast from everything else I’ve tried.

Sudipta doesn’t lecture. He doesn’t present the Mahabharata like a scripture class or a religious obligation. He tells it like a storyteller, someone who has sat with this epic for years and genuinely loves every corner of it. His pacing is calm but never slow. His tone has this warmth to it, like a family elder who actually wants you to understand, not just recite. There’s real emotion when the story calls for it, and restraint when it doesn’t.

Each episode focuses on one specific moment, one character, one decision, one turning point. That structure matters because the Mahabharata is enormous and genuinely complex. By giving each thread its own space, Bhaumik lets you feel the weight of every choice rather than rushing past it to get to the war.

And crucially, he doesn’t skip the uncomfortable parts. The grey areas. The moral contradictions. The moments where the so-called heroes do things that are hard to defend. That honesty is what makes it feel real rather than sanitised.

The bit that floored me in episode one

The whole Mahabharata, the entire war, the destruction of the Kuru dynasty, everything essentially begins because of one vow.

Devabrata, son of King Shantanu, makes a promise so extreme, so absolute, that it changes the course of every generation that follows. That vow is so profound it earns him a new name: Bhishma. And episode one is just that story — one man, one decision, one consequence that ripples across centuries.

I finished it and sat with it for a while. Because it’s not just mythology. It’s a meditation on sacrifice, on how our choices bind not just ourselves but everyone around us. That’s what Sanatan Dharma keeps doing, wrapping enormous philosophical questions inside stories so human you forget you’re being taught anything.

That’s what I’d missed growing up. Not the names and the battles. The meaning underneath.

Who this is for

If you’re a second-gen British Indian (or from any diaspora honestly) who grew up Hindu in culture but not really in knowledge then this podcast is for you. If you’ve ever felt like you should know more but didn’t know where to start, this is the start.

You don’t need any background. You don’t need to be religious. You just need to be curious.

Start from episode one. Give it two episodes before you decide. By the time Bhishma makes his vow, you’ll be in.

Next in this series: I’ll be covering another resource I’ve found for going deeper on the philosophy behind the stories and not just the narrative, but the dharmic framework underneath it.

Follow along if you’re on the same journey.

For a long time, I shaped myself around other people’s opinions. I wanted to be liked, wanted, included. I thought being easy-going and agreeable would make people love me more.

But I think a lot of people-pleasing comes from something deeper than just “being nice.”
It comes from wanting to feel seen. Loved. Chosen. Important enough not to be taken for granted.

And honestly, I think everyone is a little bit of a people pleaser.

It’s human nature to want people to see the best version of you. Especially when you’re scared they only notice the worst parts, your awkwardness, your bad habits, the parts of you that are easier to judge than understand.

You don’t want to be misunderstood, so you try harder. You become more agreeable. More accommodating. Easier to digest.

Even when it comes at the expense of yourself.

But over the years, I’ve noticed something interesting: people are often more drawn to those who don’t constantly seek approval.

Not arrogant people. Not unkind people. Just people who are comfortable standing in their own opinions.

Because humans like being seen, not followed.

There’s a difference between agreeing with someone just to be liked and confidently offering your own perspective, even if it creates a friendly disagreement. One is forgettable. The other feels real.

Ironically, the more personality you have outside of pleasing people, the more attractive you become to others.

Not because you’re trying to impress them, but because you actually feel like a person instead of a reflection of whoever you’re around.

People naturally gravitate toward those they can learn from, admire, or be inspired by in some way. That doesn’t mean being difficult or harsh. It doesn’t mean you stop caring about people or making them feel special.

It just means learning that kindness and self-abandonment are not the same thing.

Setting boundaries. Saying no. Prioritising your own feelings sometimes.

And surprisingly, that’s often when people respect you more.

Because the people who are meant for you don’t want a copy of themselves.
They want you.