Acharya Prashant explains that compassion increases along with understanding; the two cannot exist separately. The more understanding a person is, the more depth there is in their contemplation, and the more they know life, the more compassion they will have. Conversely, if you find that someone lacks compassion and is unaffected by the pain and suffering of others, it is a sign that they do not yet understand the mind or life itself. He states that one who knows oneself will inevitably become full of love towards others. Therefore, the way to be loving towards others is to first understand your own mind. To illustrate this, he gives an example of two patients in a hospital with the same illness. They develop a sense of goodwill because they can truly understand each other's condition through a shared experience, which an outsider, even a doctor with only intellectual knowledge, cannot fully grasp. The doctor has knowledge of the pain but not the experience of it, whereas the person in the next bed has a shared experience of the pain. Compassion, he clarifies, is the act of knowing oneself and one's own pain. Through this self-knowledge, one realizes that others are exactly like them. Their pains might appear different on the surface, but deep down, their condition is the same. There is only one root tendency, one source, one expanse, and one fundamental suffering. When you understand where you feel pain, you know precisely where the other person feels it too. This is the essence of compassion. Acharya Prashant emphasizes that compassion is impossible without self-knowledge. He defines self-knowledge as the understanding of one's own pain, because the Self is unknowable, and everything apart from the Self is painful. A person who has known their own pain also understands that even an insect's pain is just like theirs. This realization gives rise to non-violence and compassion. He explains that the concept of 'Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam' (the world is one family) is rooted in this shared relationship of pain. We may not have anything else in common, but our suffering is shared. When you help someone out of compassion, it does not feel like you are helping another; it feels as if you are helping yourself. This is why compassion is selfless (nishkaam). It is not merely a thought, although thought can be a part of it. Since no one is a stranger, the distinction between 'mine' and 'yours' dissolves. The speaker also touches upon the body, explaining that it should be cared for to the extent that it is necessary for the mind's liberation. The body is the temporary abode of consciousness until consciousness finds its true home.