Skip to main content

Privilege and Burden

The crown isn't just a mere ornament to be worn, it's a privilege and a burden. 

For you sit with your head high, the crown embellished with precious stones, while the others bow. Privilege. 
But, you can not look down, for even a slight tilt of the head, can make you lose the crown. Burden. 

For you can wave and smile when thousands gather around to get just one glimpse of you. Privilege. 
But you can't laugh your heart out when you find something funny in front of those same people. Burden. 

But it's rare to find a person who can do both.

The crown has the final say in everything yet the bearer of the crown doesn't have a voice. 

But the true monarch can't be just anybody, because the bearer of the crown might be a puppet of these strings, but a monarch is one who controls everything. Smile when they have to, laugh when they want, hold their heads high when they have to but tilt their heads in disagreement when they want to. 

Privilege and burden exist for those who weigh the crown against it's pros and cons. But the true meaning of sense of authority and sovereignty do not stem from either. 
They stem from something called sense of duty, for the sovereign isn't a mere bearer of the crown, nor the protector of the realm. A sovereign is both privileged and burdened by the responsibility of the realm, but first and foremost is a dutiful servant of the crown and it's people.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The monotony of being different

All my life I was told I am different. Sometimes it was appreciated, sometimes not so much.  I was told I had energy unparalleled, sometimes appreciated, other times not. Some people tell me how much they admired me, some said I couldn’t be understood.  Ever since I was a child, I was told being different is good.  In school, I was told different people tend to make better lives for themselves. In movies, I was shown that the protagonist is always, well, different.  These notions influenced my perspective towards life, making me crave the feeling of being different. Having said that, I was never treated like I was different, challenging my notion of me being “different”. However, sometime back I realized that I was never treated like I was different because no one wanted me to know how different I am.  Every time something nice happened to me, every time I said something exceptional, people tried to normalize how exceptional these things were. That is when I cou...

Touch

I’d never thought someone could ever replicate his touch. The way my heart pounded when he  touched me with his eyes, touched me from within. The kind of unrest- I called love. He invoked an unknown, vivid and restless fire inside of me. I couldn’t sit still when he was around, couldn’t do anything far related to calm. He was like the storm I had never experienced in life. It’s different now. I don’t feel the same way when I first started out, I was afraid. There was no fire, no storm. I was terrified- what if I don’t feel the same way about him , that way, the way I felt about him. I felt like the sea- calm, composed and really at peace. Like I have reached my horizon after miles of swaying, swimming and searching. Suddenly, my life is about me, and I feel like I want him , not need him . I was lying there, confused, about what I felt. Was the unrest that I felt love? Was the calm inside of me a sign of my incapability to love again? Or w...

Soldier

Somewhere inside of me, lies an imaginary soldier. This fierce, fearless soldier is ready to fight anyone, anything. Why bleed and contaminate the world with the filth of violence, when your inner soldier is ready to bleed thoughts and corrupt your mind. Demons or no demons, this soldier bleeds to make you live. Poker faces, funny laughter. You think there's no demon behind this fellow? Never were you, or will be so wrong! Just how the light makes its place in the darkness, and it is the dark that always prevails, our demons always will be beneath the fake and futile mask of happiness. Futile. Why futile? To be happy isn't futile. When a kid compares his father to Iron Man - that's happiness. However, when the father tries to show himself more to be like Iron Man when he actually feels like Batman? That's not happy. That's futile. That's when happy becomes futile. One can fight to achieve what they want. Provided when it's fighting others. But, when you h...