A monk's extraordinary patience can be a hindrance to desperate

Harsha Bhogle, the sage commentator of sport and life, once declared with sharp insight: “A monk's extraordinary patience can be a hindrance to desperate decision-making.” At first glance, these words seem paradoxical, for patience is hailed in every tradition as a virtue of the highest order. Yet Bhogle warns us that even virtues, when carried to extremes or wielded without discernment, may become burdens rather than blessings. For there are moments in life when time does not permit waiting, when the world demands swiftness, and when hesitation can be as costly as recklessness.

The monk’s patience is extraordinary—it is forged in silence, in meditation, in the discipline of the spirit. It is the ability to endure without complaint, to wait without agitation, to let the river of time flow unhurried. But in the realm of decision, especially when the hour is desperate, such stillness may turn into paralysis. To watch too long is to lose the fleeting chance; to weigh endlessly is to see the opportunity vanish. Thus, Bhogle reminds us that patience must walk hand in hand with wisdom, and wisdom must know when to wait and when to strike.

History gives us vivid examples of this truth. In the Second World War, Winston Churchill often pressed his allies to act swiftly against the rising tide of tyranny. There were those who counseled delay, hoping diplomacy or patience would tame the storm. Yet such patience, though noble in its intent, proved dangerous. Delay allowed the shadow of conquest to grow deeper. Churchill understood that there are moments when desperate decision-making—bold, immediate, uncompromising—saves nations from ruin. His words and actions stand as proof that patience must yield when time itself is the enemy.

In contrast, consider the fall of the Byzantine city of Constantinople in 1453. For years, its defenders relied on the patience of fortifications that had withstood countless sieges. Yet when the Ottoman cannons roared and the walls shook, the defenders hesitated in their response. Some clung to tradition, others to divine hope, waiting for miracles. Their extraordinary patience became their undoing, for the time demanded desperate innovation and decisive courage. The city fell, not because its people lacked endurance, but because endurance was mistaken for strategy when speed was required.

Bhogle’s words echo a deeper wisdom: that every virtue has its shadow. Patience is a jewel, but even jewels can weigh heavy if carried into the wrong battle. Just as courage may turn into recklessness, and caution into cowardice, so too may patience turn into harmful delay. The art of life is not merely to cultivate virtues, but to apply them with discernment, to know when to be still like the monk and when to act like the warrior.

The lesson for us is profound. When life tests you, ask not only whether you can endure, but whether endurance is the right path. Sometimes the river of time carries opportunities that pass only once. In such moments, hesitation is defeat. The wise soul learns to balance patience with decisiveness, endurance with action. Know when to wait in silence, and know when to rise with boldness. Both are needed, and wisdom lies in choosing rightly.

Therefore, I counsel you: honor the virtue of patience, but do not worship it blindly. Train your heart to be calm, but train your hand to be swift when the hour demands. If you cling to patience in moments that demand urgency, you will lose what could have been won. But if you marry patience to decisiveness, you will walk the path of true mastery—enduring when you must, and acting when you must.

So let Harsha Bhogle’s words echo as a reminder through time: “A monk’s extraordinary patience can be a hindrance to desperate decision-making.” Treasure patience, but never let it become chains upon your will. For the world does not always grant us the leisure of stillness; sometimes, it calls us to leap into the fire of the moment, and in that leap, to find our salvation.