As I watch the US and Russia’s ongoing tiff, and India scampering between them like a schoolboy carrying notes between two brawling seniors, I’m reminded of a golden rule I follow in life, and very often in the housing society I live in:

When two bullies fight—move out of the way.

Not because a stray punch will land on your fragile nose, but because at some point, one or the other will swivel, spot you standing there, and decide you’re the perfect recruit. They’ll smile, pat your back, and make you feel like the chosen one. And oh, how good that feels! The intoxicating illusion that you suddenly matter in a battle between giants. You’ll feel important, relevant—indispensable even.

But that, dear reader, is exactly what they want you to feel. Because if—heaven forbid—you take the bait and offer your support, your fate is sealed. The moment the dust settles, and settle it will, you’ll be the first name scribbled under “dispensable.”

Here’s the thing about bullies: they can’t keep fighting for long. Oh, they’ll roar and shove, glare and threaten, but deep down, they’re allergic to sustained combat.

At some point, they’ll discover that being enemies is exhausting, and that peace—however temporary—is the easier option. And what greases the wheels of this peace? A sacrifice. An offering. Something they can both laugh over, mock, and toss away as a sign of mutual goodwill.

And who better to place on that table than you, the overeager supporter?

The one who stuck their neck out, waved the flag, and shouted slogans?

You’ll be ridiculed, humiliated, and finally discarded—like a party decoration the morning after.

I’ve seen it happen in every arena of life. In school, where two toughs fought for “control” of the football field, and the boy who picked a side ended up carrying both their kits. In boards were I served where two powerful people locked horns, and the ambitious junior who “helped” was later crushed by both. In the housing society, where a chairman and secretary clashed and I allowed them to keep fighting.

Don’t get drawn in. Don’t nod in sympathy, Don’t repeat juicy lines, Don’t offer “just this once” help. Stand back, arms folded, and watch as the two wear each other out. Without external fuel, the fight fizzles, and both emerge weaker.

That’s when India —silent, unscathed—can step in, stronger than before.

So here’s Rule Number One and maybe the only rule in the book of self-preservation: When two bullies fight—do not take sides. Yes my dear Indian rulers, don’t. Not for glory, not for influence, and definitely not because you think you’re too clever to be used. Because you aren’t.

And because history is littered with the bones of those who thought they were allies—only to discover they were eaten later as the appetizer at the bullies peace banquet…!

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