It was the tiniest part of the ship. I stood on the deck, looking at the vastness around me, the towering mast, the thick ropes, the heavy iron chains, and then my eyes fell on something so small that I almost laughed. That little thing? Surely not.
“That’s the rudder,” the sailor said casually, as if he had just pointed out a coffee mug.
The rudder. That modest blade beneath the waterline. No glamour. No drama. And yet, the mighty ship would turn any which way because of it. Thousands of tons of steel, cargo, ambition, and direction, all responding obediently to that small unseen guide.
It stayed with me long after I left the ship.
Because that is exactly how conscience works.
It is not loud. It does not shout slogans. It does not wave flags or thump tables. It speaks softly. Sometimes uncomfortably. Often inconveniently. It nudges rather than pushes. It whispers when everything else is screaming.
And yet, it is the only thing capable of turning the ship of our lives away from disaster.
The problem begins when we decide that the small voice is unnecessary. When we are told that conscience is overrated. That morality is optional. That if enough people agree on a lie, it becomes the truth. That if a crowd cheers loudly enough, the rudder can be removed.
In today’s India, many ships are sailing without rudders.
People have stopped listening to that inner check that once said, “This is wrong,” or “This may benefit me, but it will harm others,” or “Just because I can do this does not mean I should.”
Instead, they listen to louder voices. Leaders. Influencers. WhatsApp forwards. Studio debates. Self appointed guardians of righteousness who confidently announce that conscience is for the weak and obedience to them is virtue.
And so the ship keeps moving. Faster even. With great noise and celebration. But without direction.
A ship without a rudder does not stop immediately. That is the most dangerous part. It continues forward, creating the illusion of progress. The crew feels powerful. The passengers feel reassured. Until suddenly the shoreline appears too close. Until the rocks are unavoidable. Until the grounding is blamed on fate, enemies, weather, or history.
Never on the missing rudder.
Your conscience may feel small. It may feel outdated. It may feel lonely when it disagrees with the crowd. But it is precisely because it is small that it can turn something large.
In your thoughts, let it question you.
In your words, let it restrain you.
In your deeds, let it guide you.
Do not surrender it to those who promise certainty without compassion or strength without justice. Keep it. Use it. Protect it.
Because one day, when the fog thickens and the noise grows unbearable, that small voice may be the only thing standing between this ship called India and the rocks beneath the waves.
Today, we are rudderless, heading for the rocks.
Only you can save her from the rocks..!
The Author conducts an online, eight session Writers and Speakers Course. If you’d like to join, do send a thumbs-up to WhatsApp number 9892572883 or send a message to bobsbanter@gmail.com
