Acharya Prashant begins by quoting a couplet from Rahim, which says, "How can a jujube tree and a banana tree coexist? One sways in its own way, tearing the other's limbs." He explains that if a thorny jujube tree and a soft-leaved banana tree are side-by-side, the banana tree will inevitably get torn. This is an analogy for a sensitive person, who is like the banana tree and is bound to get hurt. It is the destiny of a sensitive person to be hurt. In contrast, stone-hearted people do not get hurt because they are almost dead and lack life. He defines sensitivity as being alive, like a sitar string that vibrates with the slightest touch. It is the proof of life, the ability to experience even the subtlest vibrations of life, to hear the unsaid, and to understand a mere glance. It is a form of delicacy. However, the interesting thing is that the more delicate, sweet, alive, and beautiful a sensitive person is, the more they get hurt. It is their destiny to be hurt. But because of these hurts, one should not lose their sensitivity. One should not say, "I get hurt so much, so I must become hard," or build a protective wall around oneself. Doing so would be a defeat not just for oneself, but for existence itself. Existence rarely produces sensitive people; they are few, perhaps two to four out of a hundred. They become poets, artists, and sculptors. Some become so sensitive that they become saints, who are even beyond poets, as they can hear the very silence of existence. When a sensitive person gets hurt, they have two choices: either fall from the level of a poet and become a stone, or rise from that level and become a saint. Most people, when hurt, choose to become like a stone, strangling their own sensitivity. Every child is born delicate, but society inflicts so many wounds that they become like dead stones. One should not become clever, cunning, or tricky. The voices that teach you to be shrewd to survive are to be avoided. The one who becomes clever is already dead, even if it seems they are living. The difference between a poet and a saint is that a poet gets hurt, but a saint does not. A saint finds a place where no hurt can reach. The world's hurts come, but they remain on the outside, affecting the body and mind but not the center. The saint has found their core, their being, their Self (Atma), which cannot be hurt by the world. The world does not have the capacity to hurt your true self. Your love will reach everyone, but no one's hurt will reach your core. Even if you hurt a saint, you will only receive love in return. Therefore, when you get hurt, go deeper within yourself. Even if you are hurt, decide to distribute love. Don't shrink, expand. Give and share. You will find that sensitivity never truly dies in anyone. Seeing you, others will also awaken and remember their own nature. The victory always belongs to simplicity and sensitivity.