I am afraid.

I am afraid of the day when I, after all my hard work, patience and perseverance, land a good job, a happy family, a smug life, and when I would reflect aloud on the ‘effort’ that I have put in; I am afraid that at that very moment I would meet someone who has been through a zillion more hardships, unspeakable difficulties and still achieved more than I would ever imagine.

Believe me, there are too many of such nemeses for each one of us. A war-worn soldier who makes your ‘challenges faced in life and moments of courage’ sound like pre-teen fairy tales; a colleague who has lost a near and dear one and has gone on to still face his future, and has moved on to win it over; innumerable number of deprived intellectuals who never complained about the lack of opportunity and pushed fate to a non-entity at every step of their success. We, the philosophical bourgeoisie, talk about achievements, tribulations and elation in terms of prizes, professional difficulty and awards respectively for most of the time. There exist people for whom all this simply holds no significance; for they have seen much worse and have swam through much more turbulent waters.

Each one of my nemeses has been a lesson in humility for me. It usually starts with a classmate who does everything you do, and does it better. Then you find people who have fought tooth and nail with lack of money, opportunity and sometimes even talent, and have still made it. Then you find brilliance in its pure form, unobscured by pride, and then you have to rethink all the self-back-patting you have done all these years.

Maybe this is how great men learn to be so humble, so subtly self critical. They anticipate the greatness is each one of their peers. And they respect it…

[In case you wondering what I am doing at five freaking thirty in the morning without sleep, this is what happens to a guy who lands in Controls. A different life, a different learning.]