Acharya Prashant explains that joy is an absence of everything, including both pleasure and pain. It is not something that excites the mind or can be conceptualized as wonderful or pleasurable. Joy is described as a state of being that is ordinary, blank, and empty, devoid of anything special. It is not an aspiration or an achievement that can be obtained through action or brought in from an external source. Instead, joy is a cessation, a full stop, or at least a comma in the continuous flow of mental activity. The speaker cautions against misusing the word "enjoyment," which he considers a sacred and divine term that should be used carefully. He distinguishes joy from sensual pleasure, stating that even the pleasure derived from looking at a mountain or a river is not joy but a sensual experience mediated through the eyes. He dismisses poetic descriptions of experiencing joy from nature as "rubbish," clarifying that while it might be a higher form of pleasure, it is still not true joy. The feeling of goodness derived from looking at a woman or a river is still sensual and dependent on the senses. Joy is something that is always present but is obfuscated, much like the sky is always present but can be covered by clouds. Therefore, joy is the absence of this obfuscation. In Upanishadic terms, joy is the highest sheath (Anandamaya kosha), which is experienced in dreamless sleep—a state where nothing is experienced. It is the subtlest point of the mind, a state of no vibration or movement. Quoting Jiddu Krishnamurti, he refers to it as "consciousness without content." Happiness, on the other hand, is not joy; it is a form of tension and excitement. A happy person is far from joy and cannot engage in discussions about truth. The pursuit of happiness is a misplaced value, and a culture that values it will be a corrupt one. Pain, unlike pleasure, has the potential to awaken a person by revealing that something is wrong with their path, making it superior to pleasure in the context of awakening. The idea that one must constantly be doing something or achieving goals is not innate but a form of conditioning from society and family. This conditioning is passed down through generations like "holy ash," where the original fire—the living truth of sages like Krishna or Kabir—is gone, and only the remnants are passed on. People often misinterpret the words of sages to reinforce their own conditioning, such as taking Kabir's words to mean one must have a purpose and work hard, rather than understanding the deeper, subtler meaning.