When Public Discourse Becomes a Private Game: The Risk of Rewriting Our Collective Story

Public discourse—the shared conversations, values, and principles that shape our societies—is the backbone of any healthy community or democracy. It is where we articulate our collective hopes, define our rules of engagement, and navigate conflicts together. Ideally, this discourse builds over time, carrying forward the wisdom and lessons of past generations while adapting to new realities.

But what happens when this public discourse, which belongs to all of us, is quietly rewritten by the next generation—not to uphold universal principles or collective truth—but to serve the private equations of that generation? When the shared story becomes a tool for personal networks, hidden alliances, or vested interests?

This is not just a hypothetical problem. It’s a cycle that can erode trust, fracture communities, and undermine the very foundation of fairness and justice.

The Promise and Fragility of Public Discourse

Public discourse is meant to be cumulative. Each generation inherits a framework—be it a constitution, cultural values, or community norms—and ideally, builds on it by correcting past mistakes and pushing society forward. This continuity ensures that progress is not erased with every new wave of leadership or cultural shift.

But this fragile system depends on a crucial assumption: that each generation will engage with this discourse in good faith, committed to collective well-being rather than personal advantage.

When Private Equations Rewrite the Story

The moment a new generation prioritizes private equations—the complex web of personal loyalties, social networks, and factional interests—over public principles, public discourse becomes vulnerable.

Instead of a space where ideas are tested by reason and fairness, discourse becomes a battleground for influence and advantage. The “truth” is reshaped not by universal values but by those who wield social power behind the scenes.

This creates several dangerous outcomes:

Historical Revisionism for Gain: Narratives about the past may be altered to justify current power structures or to silence dissenting voices.

Erosion of Trust: People lose faith in institutions when they sense that rules are applied selectively.

Factionalism: Groups fracture along lines of loyalty rather than shared ideals, deepening divisions.

Loss of Collective Memory: When competing versions of “truth” multiply, it becomes harder to find common ground.

How Do We Break This Cycle?

1. Anchor Discourse in Enduring Principles

Universal values like justice, equality, and fairness should serve as the north star for any public discourse. These principles help resist the pull of expediency or factional interests.

2. Strengthen Institutional Safeguards

Independent courts, a free press, and robust civil society organizations act as watchdogs, ensuring that no private group can monopolize the narrative or manipulate rules unchecked.

3. Foster Critical Public Awareness

A well-informed and engaged public can demand transparency and hold leaders accountable. Education and open dialogue are vital tools in cultivating this awareness.

4. Encourage Intergenerational Dialogue

Bridging the gap between generations helps preserve collective memory and shared values while allowing for necessary evolution. Honest conversations between old and young can reveal where principles are being tested—and where they must stand firm.

Why It Matters

When one generation rewrites public discourse solely to protect private interests, they risk not only betraying the past but impoverishing the future. The story we tell ourselves collectively shapes how we govern, how we treat one another, and what we aspire to.

True progress demands that each generation honors the principles they inherit—not as a burden, but as a foundation for building a better society. Refining public discourse with courage and integrity, rather than distorting it for convenience or power, is the responsibility that comes with stewardship.

Final Thoughts

Public discourse is a living, evolving conversation—fragile yet resilient. It requires constant care to ensure it serves all members of a community, not just a few. Recognizing the dangers when private equations seek to rewrite that discourse is the first step toward safeguarding our collective story for generations to come.

I thus survived the story

What makes a story?

 
Its story line, its narration, the introduction of characters, and the climax. And everyone wants to be the hero of the story. This desire often pushes people to jump into the narrative and act against the characters they perceive as obstacles.

But not many want to be truly involved in the story. Instead, they make sure the story doesn’t turn against them—they simply survive it. They don’t care which direction the story takes, as long as it doesn’t pull them into discomfort or conflict.

Yet the story of life is notorious. It will make sure you respond to its call, one way or another—no matter how much you pretend not to care. Life may not always travel with you, but it will find a way to reach you, even remotely.

At first, the story might give you a bitter impression. But once it truly touches you, that bitterness can transform into something unexpectedly sweet.

Sweet spot of life

From the moment we take our first breath, it feels like everyone else already knows what’s best for us.

The doctor estimates when we’ll enter this world.
Our parents decide when it’s time to go to school.
Teachers choose what we should learn.
Managers assign us roles they believe we’re fit for.
Our spouse decides when it’s time to start a family.
And later in life, even our children guide us gently into retirement.

At every stage, someone else seems to hold the blueprint of our lives—telling us where to go, what to do, and how to live. It's as if our journey was already mapped out, not by us, but by the expectations and experience of others.

But that raises a powerful question:
If everyone else knows what’s best for us, what do we actually know—about them? About ourselves?

We often live life not with a clear destination in hand, but by discovering it along the way—through people we meet, moments that shape us, and experiences that transform us.
Life isn’t like following GPS directions to a known address. It’s far messier than that.

In truth, life feels more like falling from the top of a mountain.

We tumble.
We hit boulders.
We slip through cracks.
We cling to roots and branches.
And somehow, eventually, we land in the valley below—a place that becomes our “destination,” not because we chose it, but because it’s where we ended up.

Some call it fate. Others call it chaos.
Either way, it’s real.

There are ancient schools of thought that claim a person falling from the top of the mountain will end up in a specific place in the valley—like a marble rolling down a funnel, or a rover landing on a precise spot on the moon. It’s all trajectory, they say. All physics. All destiny.

Everyone wants to end up in the better part of the valley.
And everyone has tricks and techniques for getting there.
But what defines the “better” part of life? That’s another debate entirely.

Yet life has this unbelievable, almost cruel tendency.
The person who free-falls without a single plan, no tricks, no calculations—often lands on his feet.
And the one who’s written an entire thesis on how to land in the “perfect” spot?
Sometimes ends up nowhere.

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Dancing to the tunes which was tuned to the dance

When we engage in any task, we do so through a pattern—an approach that subtly reveals an underlying purpose. Sometimes, it's the purpose that initiates and shapes the task. Other times, it's the task itself that gradually gives rise to the purpose.

In an ideal state, there is harmony: the purpose drives the tasks, and the tasks in turn refine the purpose. This dynamic balance creates an equilibrium. And as long as this balance is maintained, it doesn't challenge any natural law—it flows within them, effortlessly.

But something deeper begins to emerge over time.

This interplay—between tasks, purpose, and the equilibrium they create—doesn’t just exist within natural law. It starts to resemble a natural law of its own. Not by replacing existing laws, but by weaving into them. It doesn’t break the rhythm of nature; rather, it teaches nature a new tune to play—one that aligns with its own intent.

In doing so, it builds a quiet rapport with which serves the interest of dance rather than that of tune.

Story of a 'TRUE' German Shepherd

Who doesn't know the German Shepherd breed? 

 
It’s one of the most domesticated and recognized dog breeds worldwide. But how can you be sure that the puppy you’ve bought is a true German Shepherd?

Here’s a checklist for identifying an authentic German Shepherd:

• Tail & Back Structure

• Coat Color & Texture

• Ears & Jaw Shape

• Presence (or absence) of White Spots

• DNA Testing*

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A Real-Life Case: The Fake German Shepherd Racket

Recently, a shocking racket surfaced in the city—people were breeding fake German Shepherds and selling them internationally under false pretenses. The scam came to light only when a vigilant animal lover raised concerns.

This individual took the dog breeder to court, claiming the puppies being sold were not true German Shepherds. The breeder, however, presented documents proving he was a government-certified dog breeder.

This complicated the matter—the court was hesitant to challenge the credibility of government-issued certifications without concrete proof.

The burden of proof now rested on the petitioner: he had to prove that the breeder’s dogs were not authentic German Shepherds.

So what did he do?

He brought his own verified German Shepherd to court, along with documentation comparing physical traits of original versus fake dogs. He even arranged for a live parade of dogs in court to highlight the differences.

But the case took another twist. The court then asked him to prove that his reference dog was, in fact, a genuine German Shepherd.

 

Mining that best moment

Mining is one of the most difficult and labor-intensive processes on Earth. It involves digging deep into the ground to extract ore—and from that ore, we extract precious minerals. When it comes to gold, the yield is shockingly small. On average, it takes about one ton (1,000 kg) of ore to produce a single gram of gold. This number varies depending on the ore’s quality and the mining techniques used, but one thing is certain: the process is demanding, relentless, and deeply human in its pursuit of value.

But mining doesn’t just happen in the earth’s crust. It happens every day, all around us, often in ways we don’t notice. We mine through life—through emotions, choices, and relationships—searching for something valuable. Something lasting.

And who are the best miners among us? Women.

Women mine beauty from chaos. They sift through endless designs to curate wardrobes and jewelry boxes that reflect style, culture, and identity. They mine the best groceries from crowded shelves and markets, transforming them into meals that nourish bodies and bring families together. They mine comfort from tough days, hope from uncertainty, and wisdom from experience.

We all mine life for its finest moments. Sometimes we strike gold—a conversation that changes everything, a perfect evening, a memory that glows. Other times, we come up with nothing but slush and fatigue. But still, we dig. Because somewhere beneath the surface, we believe something precious lies hidden.

But here’s a quiet truth: when we stop mining ourselves—stop searching within for our own depth, joy, and purpose—we allow the world to mine us instead. To take from us without giving back. To shape our value rather than letting us discover it ourselves.

That must be resisted.

So keep digging. Keep searching. The gold is still in there

When vouching becomes a business.....

We get paid for the work we do. But what proves that we’ve actually done it? In most organizations, it’s the manager who decides whether an employee has delivered. In that sense, the manager becomes the primary witness to our performance.

But what happens when someone questions the manager’s judgment?

Naturally, the responsibility passes up the chain. The director vouches for the manager. The CEO vouches for the director. And the board of directors ultimately vouches for the CEO. It’s a hierarchy of accountability, each layer "deposing" on behalf of the one below.

But here’s where things can go wrong.

What if the entire chain — from the employee to the board — is hand in glove, fabricating results or covering up failures? In such cases, a company can run for years under the illusion of productivity and success… until it collapses. When the company goes bankrupt, all those so-called depositions — the affirmations from one level to another — are exposed as bogus.

Insiders often see this coming. They know the inner workings, and they’re prepared for the fallout. They make their exits, hedge their risks, or even profit from the downfall. But others — especially outsiders — are left to face the real consequences.

Sometimes, it’s an entirely unrelated company that suffers. A competitor or peer organization, one that has done things ethically, may be dragged into the same scrutiny. They’re suspected of the same corrupt practices simply by association or by industry reputation. And they must now undergo painful audits and public questioning, just to prove they weren’t doing anything wrong.

That’s the tragedy. In trying to prove their innocence, these honest companies are forced to fight a battle they didn’t choose — often under immense pressure, at great cost.

In the end, the real culprit isn’t one person. It’s the system — a chain of blind endorsements and mutual cover-ups. And when a system is built on fabricated truths, even the innocent may suffer

At the end of the day, it’s not enough to say “we did the work.” If the only proof of that work comes from a chain of people falsely vouching for one another, then the work itself turns out to be fiction.

Truth in work comes from truth in systems. When accountability fails at every level, the output is just noise — and eventually, it becomes worthless.

Let’s build systems that don’t just say the work was done — but prove it.