When Ego Meets Immovable Reality: A Parable for Pakistan
It was a dark and stormy night — quite literally. We had been at sea for days. Two mighty battleships, cutting through crashing waves and wrestling the temper of the sea, assigned to a training squadron. I was on the lead ship, standing watch on the bridge. The wind howled like a restless spirit and the sea foam sprayed the windows in angry bursts. Nightfall came creeping in, bringing with it fog — thick, eerie, and unpredictable. Visibility was terrible. You couldn’t see more than a few hundred meters ahead. The kind of night that makes even experienced sailors nervous. That’s why the captain, a seasoned officer known for his commanding presence, decided to remain on the bridge. Just in case. Then it happened. A lookout on the wing of the bridge called out, “Light, bearing on the starboard bow!” I froze. Everyone did. A light in such conditions meant one thing — another ship. The captain’s voice was sharp. “Is it steady or moving astern?” The lookout ...