The world has become a volcanic eruption of information, where truth and lies swirl and boil together. Words explode like lava, and rumors and speculation spread like hot smoke, clouding our vision. In the midst of this chaos, we run instinctively — without knowing which direction will save us. No one holds a map, but everyone is running. We feel as if stopping means certain death.
In such times, I think of Mahatma Gandhi.
He was a man who spoke not of speed, but of direction.
Choosing the spinning wheel over steam engines, bare feet over trains, he quietly asked,
“Where are you going?”
His signature, “M. K. Gandhi,” silently speaks to us about the attitude with which we should live.
The initials “M. K.” are small and well-balanced — embodying humility and self-restraint. The following “Gandhi” varies in size and slant, but ultimately remains within its bounds. His handwriting tells us:
“Do not show off. Be careful not to get swept away — but even if you are, find your center and stand again.”
The shape of the ‘d’ is particularly striking — rising straight up without a loop, then curving to the right.
It symbolizes Gandhi’s way of thinking: bending tradition without breaking it, the quiet art of creative resistance.
That single letter asks,
“Are you speaking someone else’s words — or your own?”
The vertical strokes of the ‘d’ and ‘h’ stand tall, and even the dot of the ‘i’ is placed high — suggesting lofty ideals.
To those of us chasing only what’s right in front of us, his handwriting poses another question:
“What are you looking toward — the immediate, or months, years, even decades ahead?”
Unusually slow for a politician, his handwriting says:
“No matter how the world turns, you must remain balanced, steady, and carry on to the end.”
Speed will only increase. Lies will become more elaborate, more numerous, and more deafening.
It will grow ever harder to stay sane.
But the answer is always there:
To pause. To quietly ask again.
Gandhi tells us,
“Before you run, make sure you know where you’re going.”