I admire people who come to politics because it takes a lot of

“I admire people who come to politics because it takes a lot of courage to be in politics in India.” — thus spoke Shekhar Kapur, the filmmaker and philosopher of vision, a man who has always sought the truth beneath appearances. In this brief yet profound statement, he reveals not just a sentiment of respect, but a timeless truth about the nature of courage, duty, and sacrifice. For to enter the realm of politics in a nation as vast, diverse, and complex as India is to step into a crucible of fire — where one’s ideals are tested, one’s motives questioned, and one’s integrity challenged at every turn. It is not ambition alone that sustains a leader in such a place; it is courage, that ancient virtue without which all others fail.

Shekhar Kapur, though an artist by craft, speaks here as a witness to the moral trials of leadership. Having seen both the grandeur and corruption that often mark public life, he understands the paradox of politics — that it is both noble and perilous, capable of shaping destinies yet vulnerable to decay. To choose politics, then, is not to choose comfort or glory, but to embrace a life of scrutiny and struggle. It is to walk a path where every step must be measured against the weight of conscience and the gaze of millions. In India, a land teeming with voices and histories, this path is even steeper, for every decision carries the burden of centuries — of faiths, castes, languages, and dreams interwoven.

The origin of his insight lies not only in observation but in the spiritual heart of the Indian tradition. The Bhagavad Gita itself was born upon a battlefield — a dialogue not of politics, but of duty, fear, and courage. When Arjuna stood trembling before his kinsmen, refusing to fight, Krishna told him that true righteousness is not withdrawal, but engagement with the world. To act, to serve, to lead — even amidst chaos — is the higher path. In this way, politics becomes not merely a profession but a dharma, a sacred calling that demands fortitude of spirit. Shekhar Kapur’s words echo this ancient teaching: to enter politics is to enter battle, not of swords, but of principles.

History offers countless examples of this truth. Consider Mahatma Gandhi, who stepped into the arena of politics not for power, but for justice. His weapon was not violence, but courage — the courage to stand before an empire with nothing but truth. He faced imprisonment, ridicule, and betrayal, yet never faltered. Or Indira Gandhi, who led in an era when politics was considered a man’s realm, enduring both adoration and animosity, and standing firm even when the world turned against her. Or even the humble leaders of villages and towns, who continue to labor quietly in the service of their people, facing corruption, apathy, and the endless tide of criticism. Each of these, known or unknown, is part of the tradition that Kapur honors — the tradition of courageous leadership.

But why does it take so much courage? Because politics in India, as Kapur implies, is not a gentle pursuit. It is a field where ideals clash with realities, where every noble intention is tested by temptation and opposition. It is a mirror that magnifies both greatness and weakness. To survive in it with integrity requires a heart like iron, and yet as soft as rain — strong enough to withstand hostility, tender enough to care for the people. The politician in India must not only govern a nation but carry its contradictions within himself. To remain good in such a place is to perform a miracle of spirit every day.

And yet, Kapur’s admiration is not blind praise. It is a call to recognize and respect those who dare to serve, even when the system seems broken. It is easy for the common man to mock or condemn the politician, to believe that all power corrupts. But the wise know that among them are men and women who carry the torch of progress through storms of criticism and deceit. Courage, he reminds us, is not the absence of fear but the decision to face it anyway — to act when the world doubts you, to serve even when no one applauds.

Therefore, let this teaching be passed down: honor those who choose the difficult road of service. Do not let cynicism blind you to the strength it takes to lead. And if one day you are called to serve — in politics, in community, or in any field — remember the words of Shekhar Kapur. Seek not ease, but purpose. Have the courage to act where others hesitate, to speak when silence is safer, to stand when others bow. For the measure of a person is not in their comfort, but in the burdens they dare to bear for the sake of others.

And so, as Kapur reminds us, politics in India — like life itself — is not for the timid. It is for those whose hearts burn with conviction, whose spirits endure both praise and blame, and whose courage transforms struggle into service. To such souls belongs the future — not because they are fearless, but because they are brave enough to rise above their fear and lead.