Candid

  Polaris — the North Star—guides navigators. The Earth drifts toward it in silent gratitude. Gold may lose its lustre, silver may still shine, yet the dark sky finds its meaning in Polaris. I am drawn to the North Star— not for boon, power, strength, or acquaintance, but to know how it feels to remain powerful for twenty-six thousand years, standing firm in one place, watching restless immortals from a height no one else can reach. Is it consumed by power, or afraid of being replaced? It smiles and replies, “These are your figments of imagination. I am duty-bound to serve the lost. Generations come and go, yet nothing has moved me from my path. In this spiral universe, where every entity follows its orbit , I remain unshaken and witness instability .” No power is greater than willpower . Mortal beings, unaware of their own strength, cross others’ orbits— and through comparison and envy, distance themselves from their dreams and aspirations .

    From cave walls to cosmic orbits , the wheels kept turning— yet the man who drove them remained the same. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- The wheels moved on, and so did the man from the cave. Each new invention carried him farther away from nature. Villages emerged, the hunter-gatherer faded. Farming began— seeds were sown, songs were sung, and clans rejoiced together. Then arose the idea of supremacy . Within the clan, power learned to speak louder than wisdom. Fights followed, and betrayal found a home. Armed men no longer hunted beasts alone; they hunted their own kind. Warriors defended and ruled, swearing in God’s name, yet the cave-born belief— that might is right — remained a primal inheritance. Ages passed. Rulers rose and perished, empires bloomed and crumbled, but the psyche never diminished. Each advance sharpened authority’s blade. Progress armed the ruler to perfect the art of tyranny . Machines, forged by hum...

  Beyond the obstacle, the ride is smooth— though the road still remembers its bumps. No challenges , no deadlines , no anxiety waiting in line. The hunger of achievement is over, fulfilment at its apex. On the hill, relaxing like the winner of the game of snakes and ladders. No distinction remains between friends and foes— everyone now only an acquaintance. On this horizon, looking at the vast universe , every struggle seems like a mere dot.

  Only When A rock in the ocean , undaunted by the endless waves— currents may strike again and again, yet transformation comes only when it chooses to give in. Nature plays its quiet symphony , and relationships grow stronger only when given time to breathe, to unfold. Just like Pluto , unmoved by whatever status we assign him— his existence stands unquestioned. His acceptance of the world’s call can only come when he is ready to part with his solitude. Old bones wait for release. Liberation of the soul comes only when the hunger for life is finally surrendered. Responsibilities will be sweet only when duties are not considered bitter. Celebrations will be jubilant only when hard work is pumped in. Waiting for success will end only when patience is practised consistently.