Friends Network

What are your biggest challenges?

“You have the right to action, but never to the fruits of action.” — Bhagavad Gita

Once, there was a fighter who could never fully belong among people. Not because he was cruel, but because he saw too clearly. Where others saw friends, he saw patterns. Where others clicked Add Friend, he sensed hidden motives quiet surveillance, sweet words masking darker intentions, smiles carrying reports back to ex-bosses, envy dressed as concern.

So one day, he did something radical. He began deleting.
Not out of anger, but out of self-defense.
Facebook, once a gathering of faces, became a chessboard in his mind. Every profile was a piece. Some were pawns who moved forward only when convenient. Some were bishops who watched diagonally from a distance, pretending neutrality. A few were knights unpredictable, jumping loyalties when it suited them. And the most dangerous were those who smiled like queens, powerful and friendly, while quietly setting traps.

The fighter learned the hardest truth:
the enemy is rarely across the board—often, it sits beside you.
They congratulated him publicly and questioned him privately.
They asked how he was doing while keeping tabs on his whereabouts.
They delayed replies for days, then lied about being busy
while photos of new properties, new alliances, and new advantages appeared online. They too are in as a friend request because he is only there for himself and nothing else matters to be a so-called friend.

He stopped explaining.
He stopped chasing replies.
He stopped wishing Happy New Year to those who never truly wished him well.
People said he was difficult.
They said he couldn’t get along.
But the truth was simpler: he refused to play blind.

Time passed. Friends aged, drifted, withered. Some disappeared without farewell. Others remained connected only by old memories and unread messages.

The grand idea of a “strong network” slowly revealed itself as a tale people tell themselves to feel secure.
In the end, everyone walks alone.
And yet this was not loneliness.

The fighter realized that life moves in cycles. You stand alone, you build again. You meet people, you test truth, you release illusion. Over and over. Like resetting the board after every match.
His greatest regret was not losing friends.

It was staying silent when he should have spoken.
Waiting too long to defend himself when the iron was hot.
Recovering slowly when clarity could have burned lies instantly.
But wisdom arrived with scars.
Now, when he meets new people, he asks only one question not aloud, but within:
“If the board turns against me, will you help or were you only pretending?”

That question decides everything.
And so the fighter continues—not fighting people, but fighting illusion.
Not seeking crowds, but alignment.
Not fearing solitude, but betrayal disguised as friendship.

“Better is one’s own path, though imperfect, than another’s path well performed.” — Bhagavad Gita

Because once a fighter sees clearly,
he no longer needs many pieces
only truth, timing, and the courage to move alone.