Taking care of a border security is one of the issues that

Hear, O children of wisdom, the words of Urmila Matondkar, whose voice rings clear upon the matters of governance and duty. She declares: “Taking care of a border security is one of the issues that government has to manage. It is not to be politicised to win votes and gain sympathy.” In these words lies not merely a statement of policy, but a warning to all who wield power: that the sacred trust of defending a people is not a toy for ambition, nor a stage for drama, but a solemn responsibility that weighs as heavy as iron upon the shoulders of rulers.

For the border is no mere line on a map. It is the shield of a people, the edge of their sanctuary, the threshold where their culture, safety, and future are guarded. To guard it poorly is to open the gates to chaos; to use it for spectacle is to betray the very ones who depend upon it. When Urmila speaks of refusing to politicise this duty, she speaks of an eternal principle: that matters of life and survival must never be reduced to tokens in the games of power.

Consider the fall of Constantinople in the year 1453. The city, jewel of Byzantium, stood as the last fortress of a thousand-year empire. Yet while enemies gathered at its gates, the rulers within busied themselves with debates of courtly intrigue and theologies that had little bearing on the storm outside. The walls were mighty, the soldiers valiant, but the spirit of governance had grown distracted, divided, and self-serving. And so, the great city fell, not only to the cannons of the Ottomans, but to the failure of its leaders to treat defense as sacred. Behold, then, the danger of neglecting security for the sake of lesser pursuits.

Yet history also offers its shining examples. Recall the vigilance of the Chinese emperors who raised the Great Wall, not for spectacle, but for survival. Though imperfect, and though breached in time, the wall stood as a testament to the principle that the protection of a people is not an ornament but a necessity. It was not built for votes, not for applause, but because a civilization knew that to endure, it must guard its threshold with seriousness and sacrifice.

The lesson resounds for every age: responsibility must outweigh politics. A government that uses fear of the border to rally crowds, yet fails to act with wisdom and preparation, is a government of hollow words. A leader who speaks of danger only to stoke division betrays the essence of leadership. The true guardian of the people acts not to be seen, but to be steadfast; not to win favor, but to preserve peace.

And what of you, O listener? You may not guard a nation’s frontier, but each of you has your own borders to protect—the borders of your integrity, the borders of your family’s safety, the borders of truth in a world often clouded by lies. Do not treat these as spectacles to impress others. Guard them with quiet strength, with honor, with steadiness. Do not use your responsibilities as stage props for sympathy, but fulfill them as sacred duties entrusted to your care.

Thus let it be known: the teaching of Urmila Matondkar is a flame for all ages. Let governments remember that the border is not a banner to be waved but a burden to be carried. Let citizens remember that true strength lies in stewardship, not in display. And let each of us live by this wisdom—that the duties we hold, whether great or small, are not ornaments for pride, but shields for those we serve.

Go forth, then, in this truth: guard with sincerity, act with honor, and never let duty become a mask for ambition. In this way, you shall stand like a true sentinel, unshaken by storms, remembered not for words shouted in the square, but for the quiet strength that preserved what was most sacred.