The Great War, the Cockroaches, and the Captain

Jo jeeta hai wahi Sikandar

In every Great War there are temporary victories and temporary setbacks. A battle may be won today and lost tomorrow. A scandal erupts here, a triumphant speech is delivered there, and a viral reel convinces everyone that the world has turned upside down. Yet none of these determines the final outcome. As the familiar Hindi saying reminds us:

“Jo jeeta hai, wahi Sikandar.”

The winner writes the history books. The loser writes explanations.

No sensible person burns down his own house merely because a few bed bugs have decided to occupy the mattress. As the Tamil proverb wisely says:

“Mūṭṭa pūccikku payandhu vīṭṭaik koḷuttādhē.”

(“Don’t burn down your house out of fear of bed bugs.”)

Likewise, you don’t torch your home because a mouse has become adventurous, nor do you declare a national emergency because cockroaches have temporarily occupied your kitchen and storeroom. They may annoy the owner, but they do not own the house. The owner waits, plans, and acts. Every homeowner knows that the cockroach may win the night, but the homeowner wins the war—usually after a few cans of insect spray and perhaps a minor existential crisis.

Unless, of course, the cockroaches have formed a political party, demanded cabinet positions, and appointed themselves guardians of the kitchen. Then the entertainment value increases considerably.

The same principle applies to every battlefield. Mercenaries, freelancers, and self-appointed “independent contractors” may launch surprise attacks and even score temporary victories. Headlines may celebrate them. Social media may crown them heroes for a day. But seasoned soldiers do not panic. They know the strength of their Captain.

Their Captain has weathered bigger storms, fought longer wars, and survived battles that looked impossible. He understands that losing a skirmish is not the same as losing the war. A tactical retreat today may prepare the way for a decisive victory tomorrow.

The Captain does not panic. He simply smiles and says:

“हर तूफ़ान पार करके दिया जलाने आया हूँ।“

Har tūfān pār karke diyā jalāne āyā hū̃.

“I have crossed every storm to come here to light the lamp.”

So when the cockroaches celebrate their temporary conquest of the kitchen, let them enjoy their victory parade. They may dance all night on the sugar jar and declare the Republic of Cockroachistan. The homeowner is in no hurry. He knows perfectly well where the insect spray is kept, and tomorrow is another day.

In the grand theatre of life, politics, and even pest control, the rules seldom change:

• Lose a battle? Call it a learning experience.
• Lose an election? Blame a conspiracy engineered by deep-state cockroaches.
• Win? Declare yourself Sikandar, issue commemorative souvenirs, and begin work on the official biography.

The Captain understands something the cockroaches never do: temporary noise is not permanent victory. Small battles come and go, but the final outcome belongs to the one who endures, plans wisely, and knows when to strike.

And, as always, please don’t read any political message into this. It is merely a harmless fable about bed bugs, cockroaches, homeowners, and a Captain who knows how to win wars. Any resemblance to persons, parties, governments, ideologies, commentators, influencers, or neighbourhood WhatsApp groups is, of course, entirely coincidental.

Ashram, July 28, 2026