Call me a s*cker, aka devotee of misery, but I love failures!
I do get it; it’s not a good feeling to fail at something. But for me, it lasts for a good 6 minutes and 23 seconds. After that, I get extremely excited about what’s next! The primary reason I could write my book! *drumroll*
There ain’t no lesson in here, so if you are looking for one, sorry! Then what is it? A piece of my heart.
However, I was not always such a masochist! I used to fret until the last drop of sweat would break and roll down and slip at my chin. I would curse the stars, the moon, and the planets, and I could also be the reason why Pluto lost its existence as a planet (reference in the upcoming book)! But nevertheless, my being used to boil down to just the failure at hand, and I would succumb to my own misjudgment of my abilities.
There used to be days I would sit with crossed legs on the floor and ruminate on “Why God, Why Me?” and I don’t blame myself for this behavior; after all, pain and misery used to be so glamorous in the mainstream media. So much that sometimes I would be sure that there is someone out there recording me and my life is a movie and I have to give my best shot, while “kabhi kisi ko mukammal jahan nahi milta” played in the background in my mind, looking abashedly devastated at the thought of something as bad as getting 85 percentile in my board examination, which was five-seven percent less than how “I” would have liked! Don’t judge me; of course my life depended on those missing percentages because, hell yeah, that’s what will be written on my tombstone one day!
So you see how fickle the battles lost seem now in retrospect. Rather, were they battles at all?
After losing about one hundred and thirty-eight such battles, big and small, I had traveled far enough in life to look back and see how petty those tribulations were. I lost my peace, sleep, and joy after them. I also came far enough to see everything unfold the way it did in my past, and how colossal the difference that those not-so-pleasant so-called debacleshad made!
And that has brought me to the place where the fiascos excite me. The thrill I feel at the mere thought of “what next?” is unparalleled! And whatever has come next has invariably swept me off my feet.
Therefore, the setbacks must not drop us down with their weight but divert us with their impact. Divert us to what we deserve, to what we truly want and need, and to what is meant for us.
As someone wise (other than me) once said, “It’s not the end; it’s just a bend!”