When the Walls of Power Turn Cold

There is a darkness that creeps quietly into the halls of power — in corporate offices, educational institutes, and organizations. It wears expensive suits, holds lofty titles, and speaks the language of authority. Yet beneath the polished exterior, it thrives on corruption, arrogance, favoritism, bullying, and the exploitation of the very people who keep the system alive: the employees. It is not spoken of openly, for those who dare to speak are silenced, or removed. And yet, it persists — in boardrooms, in staff rooms, in the corridors of power.

This is not merely about “work culture.” It is about human dignity. It is about the soul of our society.

The everyday cruelties we refuse to see

Consider a young woman, eight months pregnant, her back already aching under the weight of the sacred life she is carrying. Her controlling superior, in an act stripped of all humanity, instructs her to bend down to perform menial work meant for an attendant — the very attendant who was explicitly told not to do it. Her condition was visible. Her vulnerability was obvious. Yet, her dignity was disregarded.

Or think of this: a Dean, holding one of the highest positions in an institution, verbally abusing a clerk - a simple, sincere man, from another department. The clerk’s only “offense” was making an official call. The Dean, in a storm of ego and baseless rage, accused him of causing a technical fault in the Dean’s computer, a baseless allegation meant to humiliate. The threat of a legal case was dangled over his head like a sword. This was not leadership. This was the intoxication of power degrading the soul.

These are not isolated events. These are symptoms of a culture where dignity is disposable, truth is twisted, and silence is enforced. The only way to move upward is not through merit or integrity, but by pleasing those above — a path that may win promotions, but erodes the soul. If something goes wrong, a scapegoat is sought, usually a powerless junior. But if something succeeds, those at the top bask in the glory of work done by their subordinates, their egos swelling with unearned credit.

When titles replace conscience

In too many places, power has become a license for cruelty — a badge that some wear not as a call to serve, but as a weapon to dominate. Such leaders forget that authority is not a throne to sit upon, but a sacred trust placed in their hands, meant to uplift and protect. Instead, they measure their worth by how much fear they can command, how many voices they can silence, and how unquestioningly others obey.

Greed whispers to the heart: Take more. Give less.
Ego commands the mind: You are above them. You owe them nothing.
Fear enforces silence: Speak, and you will be destroyed.

In such environments, even the noblest institutions lose their soul. Human rights are trampled upon, dignity becomes optional, and compassion — the very essence of humanity — is treated as weakness.

They forget that true leadership is not about standing above people, but standing with them. A title without humility is like a body without a soul — it moves, it commands, it functions, but it is lifeless inside.

Power without conscience is nothing more than spiritual bankruptcy. It may enrich the pockets and feed the ego for a season, but it leaves the heart impoverished. The wealth of a leader is not in control over others, but in the respect earned through justice, fairness, and compassion. And when compassion is absent, the empire they build is not a legacy — it is a monument to their own downfall.

Why we accept the unacceptable

One of the most troubling truths is not just that such injustice exists — but that it has been normalized. Gross violations of ethics and morality are brushed aside with a shrug, dismissed as “That’s just how things are.” The shocking becomes ordinary. The unacceptable becomes routine.

We tell ourselves: Stay quiet. It’s safer. We whisper to others: Don’t make trouble. Think about your job. We pretend not to see, thinking silence will shield us.

But silence is not protection — it is permission. Each time we choose fear over truth, the corrupt grow bolder, the arrogant grow crueler, and injustice digs its roots deeper. The innocent, over time, begin to shrink in spirit, until they no longer dream of fairness. They start to believe that this is all they deserve, forgetting that they were born with the same divine right to dignity as anyone else.

And so the cycle feeds itself: fear sustains oppression, and oppression breeds more fear. The longer it continues, the more it robs not only individuals of their courage, but entire institutions of their soul.

A call to awaken the conscience

The question is not about one organization or one incident. The question is — What kind of people are we becoming?

When did profit become more important than humanity?

When did titles become more valuable than truth?

When did we forget that every person — from the CEO to the janitor — carries the same divine spark within?

No religion, no philosophy, no moral code in history has ever justified cruelty, humiliation, or exploitation. The great spiritual teachers have all spoken of service, humility, and justice. To mistreat those who cannot fight back is to mock the very principles we claim to live by.

The silent test of the soul

Every workplace, every institution, is ultimately a test — not of skills, but of character. The pregnant woman’s superior failed that test. The Dean who abused the clerk failed that test. Every leader who steals credit or shifts blame fails that test.

One day, titles will vanish. Bank balances will mean nothing. The only thing that will matter is the weight of our actions on our conscience.

When we stand before the mirror of truth — call it God, karma, or the inner voice — will we be able to meet our own eyes?

Karma does not keep receipts — it keeps balance.
You may escape human courts, but you cannot escape the court of your own conscience. The energy you send into the world — whether love or cruelty — will find its way back to you.

Those who exploit, humiliate, and crush others should remember: power is a guest. It will not stay forever. When it leaves, the only thing you will be left with is the truth of who you are — and the weight of the lives you touched, for better or for worse.

The forgotten principles

No religion or philosophy has ever justified cruelty. The highest spiritual truths are simple:

• Serve those you lead.
• Protect the weak.
• Speak truth without cruelty.
• Remember that every soul carries the same divine spark.

When these principles are ignored, the workplace becomes a battlefield for egos instead of a home for talent and purpose.

The courage we must find

The world changes not when laws are passed, but when hearts are moved. Speaking out against injustice is costly, but silence is costlier. For every act of cruelty ignored, we give it permission to grow.

We must remember: Power is temporary. Humanity is eternal.
Let us measure our success not by the fear we command, but by the respect we earn.
Let us lead not with threats, but with compassion.

If we cannot protect the dignity of those who work beside us, then no matter how high we rise, we have already fallen.

The real test of a leader is not in how they command, but in how they treat the powerless. And if we, as a society, keep accepting the unacceptable, we are not only allowing injustice to thrive — we are feeding it.

Jasmine Fatima, Editor in Chief-

Wadi Ki Awaaz