See, my relationship with Salman is of mutual love. But just

The words of Puneet Issar ring with dignity and restraint, carrying within them a rare wisdom: “See, my relationship with Salman is of mutual love. But just because he is a good friend of mine, I wouldn’t want to use him for a cameo in my film or ask him to endorse my film. That is not me.” At first, they seem a simple statement of loyalty. But listen deeper, and you will hear the ancient chord of honor, the call to keep bonds of friendship pure, unsullied by self-interest. For the worth of a relationship lies not in what it can be made to yield, but in the love and respect it freely carries.

In a world where many would barter friendship for gain, Issar’s words stand like a pillar against the storm. To him, love and mutual respect outweigh the temptation of advantage. He reminds us that a true bond cannot be measured in favors or appearances, but in the refusal to reduce a beloved companion into a means to an end. To “use” a friend is to poison the well of trust. To protect a friend from exploitation—even when the world sees opportunity—is to walk the noble path.

The ancients gave us the tale of Damon and Pythias. When Pythias was condemned to die, Damon offered to take his place as hostage until his friend could settle affairs. The tyrant expected betrayal, but Pythias returned, and Damon stood ready to lay down his life. In awe, the ruler spared them both. This story has endured for centuries not because of power or wealth, but because it showed a relationship free of exploitation, a bond built on loyalty alone. In Issar’s words, we hear the same spirit: friendship is not a ladder to climb, but a trust to protect.

Consider also the life of Marcus Aurelius, emperor of Rome. Surrounded by flatterers who sought to use his favor, he wrote in his Meditations of the need to keep his soul pure, to resist corruption, and to deal with others with fairness. He warned himself never to see people as tools for his ambition, but as fellow beings deserving of honor. Issar’s refusal to ask his friend for endorsement echoes this Stoic wisdom: to keep love free of the taint of calculation is to walk in truth.

There is a subtle heroism in such restraint. The easier path is always to lean upon connections, to demand favors, to exploit affection. The harder path is to say: “I will build with my own hands, I will labor for my own vision, and I will not reduce my friend to a tool for my success.” This is the path Issar chooses—the path of integrity. In this choice, he honors not only his relationship with Salman, but his own spirit, which remains unsullied by selfishness.

The lesson, O seeker, is clear: guard your relationships with reverence. Do not approach them with the mind of a merchant, calculating what you may extract, but with the heart of a companion, asking only how you may give. If you begin to see your friend as a resource, you risk losing not only their trust but also your own honor. A bond maintained in purity will outlast fleeting gains, while a bond exploited will eventually crumble to dust.

Practical wisdom follows: look upon your friendships and ask yourself—am I nurturing them, or am I seeking to use them? Practice gratitude instead of expectation. Give freely without thought of return. Build your endeavors upon your own toil, and allow your friends to stand beside you as companions, not as instruments. In doing so, you will find that your relationships grow stronger, unshaken by suspicion, rooted in mutual love.

So remember Issar’s words as a guiding flame: do not soil the sacredness of friendship with the hunger of ambition. Protect it, honor it, let it be free of demands. For true love between friends is not measured by what one gains, but by what one refuses to take. And in that refusal lies the highest form of respect, the nobility that keeps both heart and bond unbroken.