[The Admiral]
The year 2025 started with hope. It is ending in misery.
This is a sinking ship now. And it is a one-man show. The captain stands alone at the wheel, steering a broken vessel through dark waters while everyone else has lost their minds.
The captain’s deputy is clueless, hopeless, and completely harmless. She stands beside him looking confused, like someone who walked into the wrong room and is too polite to leave.
The captain’s team, the sailors, the ship engineers, the mechanics, the kitchen staff, they are all drunk. With power. Some with alcohol. Some with women and men. Many with money. Some with booze, sex, money – everything.
They stumble around the deck making big announcements, issuing grand orders, while water pours through holes in the hull.
The storms are coming. The early warnings have been given. The sea is rough. The waves are rising. The clouds are black and angry. The sky is screaming at them to prepare.
But the captain is still playing his trumpet. Awful music. Ugly tunes.
He thinks, it’s beautiful and very inspiring. The ship is sinking but the party continues.
No one knows if there is enough fuel in the store. The captain says there is plenty. His team says there is more than enough. The passengers look at the fuel Meter showing empty and wonder if they are reading it wrong.
Water is pouring through holes in the ship. Everywhere. The deck is flooding. Cabins are filling up. But the captain’s team has made an announcement. They have found a miracle fountain. This is not leaking. This is a blessing. Fresh water supply. Free of charge. Praise the captain. Hail the king. He is not a ship captain. He is the king. He wears the crown too. At home. Naked.
The passengers are clapping. Some of them actually believe it. Some are too tired to argue. Some have given up thinking.
Every day the captain learns something new. He learns that what he said yesterday was a lie. Not his lie. Someone else’s lie that he accidentally repeated. Very innocent mistake. Could happen to anyone who is steering a ship without knowing how to steer ships.
He tells the innocent passengers that everything is okay. Trust me, he says. I will get us to shore. Just trust me. Keep trusting me.
How can you trust a captain who does not trust his own words.
How can you believe someone who changes his story every morning like he is changing his underwear.
The captain is living in a fantasy world. A couple of years ago, he never thought he would have to steer a ship. He was very happy standing on the shore throwing stones at every captain who tried to steer this broken ship. He was the best stone thrower in the country. He had perfect aim. He hit every captain right in the head. Boom. Boom. Boom.
Now he is the captain. Now he is steering the same broken ship. Now he realizes that steering a ship is much harder than throwing stones at people steering ships. Who knew.
The deputy, a couple of years ago, never imagined she would be second-in-command of a broken ship. She had one dream. One simple dream. Increase the education budget of the passengers to six percent. Just six percent. That was all she wanted. That was her life’s mission. But late, realisation, it was not her dream. It was someone else’s vanity project where she was a pussy cat in a parade against previous sailors.
Two months ago she realized it cannot be done. Not in her lifetime. Maybe not in anyone’s lifetime. The dream died quietly. Now she stands on deck looking lost, wondering how she ended up here, watching water pour through holes while the captain plays his trumpet.
This is where we are. One year later. This is what hope looks like after it drowns.
But here is the truth that nobody wants to hear. Wake up. You have only one ship. This ship. It is broken. It is leaking. It is sinking. But it is the only ship you have.
There is no other ship coming to rescue you. There is no magical new ship waiting at the port. This broken, leaking, sinking vessel is your home. It is all you have.
The storms are coming. They will not wait for you to fix the ship. They will not wait for you to find a better captain. They will not care about your complaints or your disappointments or your regrets.
They will come. And they will hit hard.
But storms do not last forever. This is the secret. This is the hope. Storms are terrible but they pass. They rage and they roar and then they move on. If the ship can survive the storm, there will be calm water after. There will be sunshine after the clouds.
The ship can survive. Even this broken ship. Even with this confused captain and clueless deputy and drunk crew. It can survive if everyone wakes up and starts working instead of clapping.
Stop pretending the leaks are miracle fountains. They are leaks. Fix them.
Stop pretending the captain knows everything. He does not. Help him.
Stop pretending the fuel tank is full. It is not. Save every drop.
Stop pretending everything is fine. It is not. Face reality.
The passengers need to stop being passengers. This is not a luxury cruise. This is a survival mission. This is like an escape to Italy on a tiny boat with 150 people in the freezer space. Not all going to survive to see Italy. Like that.
Everyone needs to grab a bucket and start bailing water. Everyone needs to help plug the holes.
Everyone needs to stop watching the show and start being part of the solution.
The captain cannot do it alone. One man cannot save a ship. He can’t save himself.
Even if he works twenty hours a day. Even if he never sleeps. Even if he gives every drop of his energy. One man alone will fail.
The deputy needs to wake up from her confusion. Pick one thing. Do that one thing well. Stop dreaming about six percent and start working on one percent. Something. Anything. Do something useful. At least take over the kitchen to feed the people.
The crew needs to sober up. Put down the power. Pick up the tools. Stop making announcements. Start making repairs.
And the passengers. The poor, suffering, tired passengers. You cannot just complain and hope for magic.
You cannot just wait for someone to save you. You are on this ship. If it sinks, you sink. If it survives, you survive. Your fate is tied to this broken vessel.
So fight for it. Demand better. Push harder. Hold everyone accountable. But also help. Also work. Also bail water.
This is your ship. Broken but yours. This is your captain.
Confused but yours. This is your crew. Drunk with power but still yours. This is your country.
Sinking but still yours.
The year 2025 is ending. We started with hope and we are ending in misery. But the ship is still floating. Barely. The captain is still steering. Somehow. The passengers are still alive. Just barely.
The next storm is coming. And the next one after that. And more storms after those. This is the reality of the sea. This is the reality of life.
But storms pass. Ships can be repaired. Captains can learn. Deputies can wake up. Crews can sober up. Passengers can become crew.
Hope is not dead. It is just drowning. Pull it out of the water. Give it air. Make it breathe again.
This is not a time for fantasy.
This is not a time for trumpet concerts. This is not a time for miracle fountain stories.
This is a time to bail water. This is a time to plug holes. This is a time to survive the storm.
Wake up. All of you. Captain, deputy, crew, passengers. Wake up.
The ship is sinking. But it has not sunk yet. Yet.
There is still time. Not much. But some.
Use it.