There are periods in life that are difficult to explain.
You work hard. You keep trying. You learn. You adapt. You ask people for help. You apply for opportunities. You attend interviews. You do many of the things that should, at least in theory, move life forward.
And yet, somehow, nothing seems to move.
For me, the last few years have felt like that.
Only recently did I begin to look seriously at my own Vedic astrology chart and compare the planetary periods with what was actually happening in my life. I had some knowledge of astrology and had even completed an online course, but I had never really studied my own chart in depth.
When I finally did, I was surprised by the correspondence.
I don't claim that astrology can explain every event in a person's life, nor do I see it as a substitute for personal responsibility, effort, or faith. But it gave me a framework through which I could reflect on what I had already experienced.
And when I looked at my Ketu Mahadasha, the timing was striking.
My Ketu Mahadasha began on 7 August 2020 and will continue until 7 August 2027.
I am still inside it.
But I have just come through what felt like its most difficult chapter — Ketu–Saturn — and have only recently entered Ketu–Mercury.
Perhaps that is why I am writing this now.
Not from the safety of hindsight, but from the middle of the story.
When Life Begins to Loosen Its Grip
Ketu is traditionally associated with detachment, separation, uncertainty, spiritual questioning, and the loosening of attachment to things we once considered secure.
Saturn is associated with discipline, delay, responsibility, endurance, and hard lessons.
Put the two together, at least symbolically, and I can understand why the Ketu–Saturn period felt like such a squeeze.
But that squeeze did not begin with Saturn.
Looking back, each Antardasha seemed to bring its own lesson.
1. Ketu–Ketu (7 August 2020 – 4 January 2021)
This was the beginning. Ketu–Ketu felt like a reset.
There was a sense of separation from an older version of myself — particularly the professional identity I had built over many years.
I had spent a large part of my life building a career, gaining experience, and developing a sense of who I was professionally. Suddenly, some of the assumptions behind that identity began to feel less secure.
It made me question something deeper: Who am I when the external labels become uncertain?
At the time, I didn't have a neat answer. Perhaps that was the point.
2. Ketu–Venus (4 January 2021 – 4 March 2022)
Venus traditionally brings attention to relationships, values, comforts, creativity, and what we consider worthwhile.
During this period, I found myself reflecting more deeply on what actually mattered to me.
Professional success was still important. Financial stability was important. But they no longer seemed sufficient to define whether life was going well.
My spiritual life, family, creativity, and writing began to occupy a different place in my thinking.
I started to understand that there is a difference between having a successful life and having a meaningful life. That distinction would become increasingly important.
Venus traditionally brings attention to relationships, values, comforts, creativity, and what we consider worthwhile.
During this period, I found myself reflecting more deeply on what actually mattered to me.
Professional success was still important. Financial stability was important. But they no longer seemed sufficient to define whether life was going well.
My spiritual life, family, creativity, and writing began to occupy a different place in my thinking.
I started to understand that there is a difference between having a successful life and having a meaningful life. That distinction would become increasingly important.
3. Ketu–Sun (4 March 2022 – 10 July 2022)
The Sun is traditionally connected with identity, authority, recognition, and one's sense of self.
This period made me think about recognition and professional identity.
For much of my career, I had been comfortable being the person who knew what to do, who could lead a team, solve problems, and take responsibility.
But what happens when external recognition becomes uncertain?
I began to see that there is a difference between authority given by a position and authority that comes from experience and character. A job title can disappear. Experience doesn't.
The Sun is traditionally connected with identity, authority, recognition, and one's sense of self.
This period made me think about recognition and professional identity.
For much of my career, I had been comfortable being the person who knew what to do, who could lead a team, solve problems, and take responsibility.
But what happens when external recognition becomes uncertain?
I began to see that there is a difference between authority given by a position and authority that comes from experience and character. A job title can disappear. Experience doesn't.
4. Ketu–Moon (10 July 2022 – 10 February 2023)
If the Sun raised questions about identity, the Moon brought the questions inward.
This was a more emotional period for me. There was more self-questioning, uncertainty, and mental restlessness.
One thing I learned during this period was that our thoughts are not necessarily predictions. The mind can say:
"What if this doesn't work?"
"What if nothing changes?"
"What if I never get back to where I was?"
But a thought is not a prophecy. That distinction became important. I had to learn to observe uncertainty without allowing it to become my identity.
If the Sun raised questions about identity, the Moon brought the questions inward.
This was a more emotional period for me. There was more self-questioning, uncertainty, and mental restlessness.
One thing I learned during this period was that our thoughts are not necessarily predictions. The mind can say:
"What if this doesn't work?"
"What if nothing changes?"
"What if I never get back to where I was?"
But a thought is not a prophecy. That distinction became important. I had to learn to observe uncertainty without allowing it to become my identity.
5. Ketu–Mars (10 February 2023 – 7 July 2023)
Mars is associated with energy, action, courage, and the desire to push forward.
I certainly wanted to push forward. But wanting something and being able to control its outcome are two different things.
Mars is associated with energy, action, courage, and the desire to push forward.
I certainly wanted to push forward. But wanting something and being able to control its outcome are two different things.
There were times when I felt frustrated by the gap between effort and result. I could apply. I could learn.
I could improve my skills. I could prepare. I could attend interviews. But I could not force another person to say yes.
That was becoming one of the central lessons of this entire period: I can control the effort, but I cannot force the outcome.
So I redirected some of that energy into learning, certifications, technical skills, writing, and spiritual practice.
6. Ketu–Rahu (7 July 2023 – 25 July 2024)
Rahu and Ketu are traditionally viewed as the lunar nodes, and Rahu is often associated with ambition, illusion, unconventional paths, and strong desires.
Looking back, this period had a somewhat different flavour. There were opportunities and ideas that looked attractive, unusual, and potentially transformative. Some were worth exploring. Others were distractions.
7. Ketu–Jupiter (25 July 2024 – 1 July 2025)
Jupiter is traditionally associated with expansion, learning, wisdom, optimism, and growth.
It was during this phase, in October 2024, that I became involved in an MLM business venture. At the time, I was genuinely interested in the possibility. I invested my time and money. Then, in July 2025, I travelled all the way to Malaysia at my own expense to participate in their business promotion.
Looking back now, the timing is fascinating. The journey to Malaysia occurred right around the transition from Ketu–Jupiter into Ketu–Saturn.
What initially looked like expansion and opportunity eventually became something that forced me to examine my judgment, expectations, and the difference between possibility and reality.
I don't look back at that experience simply as a mistake. It taught me something. Sometimes we learn through success. Sometimes we learn through disappointment. And sometimes we learn because we become willing to admit that something we believed in was not what we thought it was.
8. Ketu–Saturn: The Great Squeeze (1 July 2025 – 10 August 2026)
This was the period that affected me most strongly. If I had to describe Ketu–Saturn in one word, it would be: Squeeze.
Professionally, things became extremely difficult.
I was looking for opportunities. I attended interviews. I reached final stages. I received encouragement. Friends tried to help. Some friends genuinely worried about me. They would send job advertisements directly to my mobile because they were thinking about me and wondering whether I had seen them.
I appreciated that more than I probably expressed. But even the people who cared about me could not fully understand what was happening. The truth is, I didn't understand it myself.
From the outside, there were opportunities. From the inside, there was an extraordinary amount of uncertainty.
I would sometimes get very close to an opportunity and then lose it to another candidate. Another interview. Another process. Another wait. Another delay. Another administrative hurdle. Another background check. Another "we'll let you know."
There is something uniquely difficult about waiting. Failure at least gives you an answer. Waiting keeps the question alive.
Financial and professional uncertainty can also change the way you see yourself. You begin asking questions that have little to do with the job itself:
"Am I still relevant?"
"Have I become too old?"
"Why is this taking so long?"
"What am I supposed to learn from this?"
I had to confront those questions honestly.
And yet, something else was happening at the same time. I was learning. I continued studying ServiceNow and other technologies. I completed certifications. I explored AI. I wrote. I experimented with new ideas. I continued developing myself.
And spiritually, I kept going.
This was the period that affected me most strongly. If I had to describe Ketu–Saturn in one word, it would be: Squeeze.
Professionally, things became extremely difficult.
I was looking for opportunities. I attended interviews. I reached final stages. I received encouragement. Friends tried to help. Some friends genuinely worried about me. They would send job advertisements directly to my mobile because they were thinking about me and wondering whether I had seen them.
I appreciated that more than I probably expressed. But even the people who cared about me could not fully understand what was happening. The truth is, I didn't understand it myself.
From the outside, there were opportunities. From the inside, there was an extraordinary amount of uncertainty.
I would sometimes get very close to an opportunity and then lose it to another candidate. Another interview. Another process. Another wait. Another delay. Another administrative hurdle. Another background check. Another "we'll let you know."
There is something uniquely difficult about waiting. Failure at least gives you an answer. Waiting keeps the question alive.
Financial and professional uncertainty can also change the way you see yourself. You begin asking questions that have little to do with the job itself:
"Am I still relevant?"
"Have I become too old?"
"Why is this taking so long?"
"What am I supposed to learn from this?"
I had to confront those questions honestly.
And yet, something else was happening at the same time. I was learning. I continued studying ServiceNow and other technologies. I completed certifications. I explored AI. I wrote. I experimented with new ideas. I continued developing myself.
And spiritually, I kept going.
What Actually Carried Me Through
If I had to identify what carried me through this period, it comes down to two pillars: having faith in yourself is your best strength, and having faith in the Supreme Lord is your greatest strength.
I learned the power of self-belief very early in my life.
When I was 22, I started my career as a Medical Representative in India with Alembic, one of the top ten pharmaceutical companies at the time. After completing two weeks of field training in Vijayawada alongside two other new recruits, our senior field trainer evaluated us on the final day.
He looked at the three of us and said: "I will give rank one to Rajesh, rank two to Pavan, and rank three to you, Ramana. Good luck."
I was posted to Bhimavaram. I didn't argue or get discouraged; I simply relied on complete faith in my own ability and put in the work.
A year later, I was performing at the top of the zone, earning awards like a Titan Quartz watch for outstanding performance. When that same senior manager came to visit my territory in Bhimavaram, he confided in me: "I think I made a mistake in my assessment, and Shastri Sir (our Regional Manager) was right. He gave you number one rank from the start, Rajesh number two, and Pavan three."
All that I had back then was complete faith in myself. People will assess you, rank you, or delay you based on partial information. If you depend entirely on external validation, those judgments will break your spirit. But when you have inner self-belief, you keep moving forward regardless of where people rank you.
When you combine that self-belief with faith in the Supreme Lord, external circumstances lose their power to break you.
My daily chanting of the Hare Krishna maha-mantra became particularly important. I continued my practice of chanting my sixteen rounds every day (108 mantras per round).
It wasn't always perfect. There were days when the mind was peaceful. There were days when the mind wandered everywhere. There were days when chanting felt deeply absorbing. There were other days when I simply sat down and did it because it was my discipline.
But I kept doing it.
The mantra did not magically make the problems disappear. The interviews still had to be attended. The applications still had to be submitted. The bills still had to be paid. The uncertainty was still there.
What changed was something inside me. The practice gave me an anchor. It reminded me that my circumstances were not the entirety of my existence.
This is something I have come to understand more deeply: Spiritual practice is not always about making difficult circumstances disappear. Sometimes it is about giving us the strength to pass through them without losing ourselves.
The Bhagavad-gita repeatedly brings us back to this principle of action without attachment to the result. We have control over our effort. We don't have complete control over the fruits of that effort. That is not passivity. It is disciplined action combined with surrender.
A Word of Caution on Commercial Astrology and Remedies
I want to be very clear about my purpose in writing this article.
My intention is not to suggest that anyone facing career hurdles or personal crises should rush to astrologers, waste hard-earned money, or turn to commercial operators who rip people off in the name of yantras, mantras, paid rituals, or mechanical remedies.
When people are squeezed financially or professionally, they are at their most vulnerable — and an entire commercial industry exists to capitalize on that anxiety. True peace, direction, and strength do not come from spending money on promises of quick planetary fixes.
Astrology, at its best, is simply a mirror or a map that provides perspective on the weather; it is not the engine that moves you forward, nor can it save you from doing the work.
What actually matters is where you focus your attention. Instead of seeking shortcuts through commercial remedies, focus your attention on the Supreme Lord, maintain your daily spiritual practice, and rely on genuine self-belief combined with honest effort. When the time is right, the Lord clears the fog and reveals everything to you. No commercial transaction can ever replace genuine faith, honest work, and sincere devotion.
I want to be very clear about my purpose in writing this article.
My intention is not to suggest that anyone facing career hurdles or personal crises should rush to astrologers, waste hard-earned money, or turn to commercial operators who rip people off in the name of yantras, mantras, paid rituals, or mechanical remedies.
When people are squeezed financially or professionally, they are at their most vulnerable — and an entire commercial industry exists to capitalize on that anxiety. True peace, direction, and strength do not come from spending money on promises of quick planetary fixes.
Astrology, at its best, is simply a mirror or a map that provides perspective on the weather; it is not the engine that moves you forward, nor can it save you from doing the work.
What actually matters is where you focus your attention. Instead of seeking shortcuts through commercial remedies, focus your attention on the Supreme Lord, maintain your daily spiritual practice, and rely on genuine self-belief combined with honest effort. When the time is right, the Lord clears the fog and reveals everything to you. No commercial transaction can ever replace genuine faith, honest work, and sincere devotion.
9. Ketu–Mercury: The Door Has Just Started to Move (10 August 2026 – 7 August 2027)
And now, something has changed.
Only recently — on 10 August 2026 — I entered Ketu–Mercury.
Mercury is traditionally associated with communication, intellect, analysis, learning, business, negotiation, and information.
And almost immediately, I noticed something I had not experienced for a long time: movement.
Recruiters started responding. Conversations began happening. I attended an interview and felt that it went well.
There are still no guarantees. I don't want to write this article and pretend that the story has already reached its happy ending. It hasn't.
The door has not completely opened. It has only started to move.
And perhaps that is exactly why I wanted to write this article now. Because I don't know what the next twelve months will bring. Ketu Mahadasha itself continues until 7 August 2027.
So I am not writing this from the other side of the mountain. I am still climbing.
What Ketu Taught Me
When I look back across all these Antardashas, I don't see a simple story of bad luck followed by good luck.
I see a gradual process of detachment.
From titles.
From recognition.
From certainty.
From the belief that hard work automatically produces immediate results.
From the need to understand everything.
And perhaps, most importantly, from the illusion that I am completely in control.
Ketu may be associated with separation and detachment, but my experience taught me that detachment does not necessarily mean giving up.
Sometimes it means continuing to work without allowing the result to determine your worth. It means applying for another position after rejection. It means learning another skill. It means getting up the next morning. It means continuing your spiritual practice when you don't feel particularly spiritual. It means trusting that a closed door is not necessarily the end of the road.
Astrology helped me interpret the pattern. Faith helped me endure it.
And perhaps that distinction matters. Because even if the planets describe a period of uncertainty, they don't remove our responsibility to act.
We still have to do the work. We still have to make decisions. We still have to learn from mistakes. We still have to get up after disappointment. And for me, we also have to remember the Supreme Lord.
As I stand at the beginning of Ketu–Mercury, I don't know exactly what is waiting for me. Maybe the professional door will open soon. Maybe it will take longer. Maybe the opportunity I am expecting will come from somewhere completely unexpected.I simply don't know. But I know what I can do:
Work when there is work to do.
Learn when there is something to learn.
Write when there is something to say.
Chant when the mind needs anchoring.
And leave the results to the Supreme Lord.
The door has just started to move. I am going to keep walking.
And perhaps, in August 2027, I will write the second half of this story — not as a prediction, but as a reflection on what actually happened after the door began to open.
Until then, I am still living the story.
And perhaps that is the real lesson: We may not be able to see the whole path, but we can always take the next step.
