Failure

Failure arrived quietly for Simi. There were just two words on the screen: “ Not Selected”. She stared at the words on the screen longer than necessary as if wishing and willing them to change to “Selected”. It did not happen.

She had prepared for this exam for three years. She had risen up early in the morning, stayed late into the night, prepared notes, read them over and over again, underlining the points she thought were important. Her friends had moved on to different cities, some got married, some found jobs, but she stayed in the same room, at the same desk, still chasing the same goal.

She always believed that efforts guaranteed success.

The silence of the room was like a question that she did not have an answer for.

She avoided everyone. Her phone kept buzzing and ringing. She knew “ How did it go?” would be the question. She left the phone unattended. She did not answer the calls and did not reply to the messages. Stepping out of the house felt like stepping into a world that knew that she had failed.

Her mom knocked on her door.

“Come and eat, Simi”, she said.

“ I am not hungry”.

There was silence. “ You did not eat lunch either”, her mom said.

Simi repeated,” Mom, I am not hungry.”

There was silence again, and Simi heard the sound of her mother’s retreating footsteps.

She felt guilty, angry, frustrated, and even cried.

When her mind cleared a bit, her mind drifted to so many things. She was reminded about the quotations she had read about failure written by great achievers, but somehow it tasted like gall and wormwood in the mouth.

Days passed by. She could not bring herself to study. The very books that had become her companions felt like her sworn enemies. She avoided everyone, conversations, and even herself.

One day, she was searching for something to get away from these miserable thoughts, and she stumbled upon an old notebook. In it were stories and poems she used to write. Before the exams had taken over her life and time, she used to write. It was her passion. There were short stories, poems, and a few ideas. Some needed to be polished. She sat down on her bed and turned over the pages. It filled her with nostalgia. These were the words she had written once upon a time when she did not measure her worth in ranks and results.

As she read, one of the sentences caught her eye.

“ All the paths we tread upon may not lead to success; some paths lead to understanding”.

She could recollect when she had written it, but somehow it made more sense now than before.

That evening, she decided to step out of the house and take a short walk. It had been days. The world seemed to go on in its own impersonal way. The tea stall under the tree was still there, and the stray dogs still gathered around the customers looking for small treats. People went about their way as they always did.

Simi found it a bit disconcerting. Her failure did not mean a thing to anybody.

She walked on and reached the neighbourhood park. The familiar face of her neighbour, Hina, greeted her at the gate of the park. She had dreaded meeting and talking to her. “ How have you been? Preparing for the exam?”

Simi hesitated and said slowly, “ I did not clear it”.

The neighbour asked,” Will you try again?”

The words were uttered simply without drama or sympathy, and Simi did not know how to respond.

“ I don’t know if I can”, she said.

Her neighbour said,” You have studied for three years. Does all of that disappear because of one result?”

Simi looked down and said,” I failed”.

“ You learned something, right?” her neighbour said.

Simi went home after spending some time in the park. All the while she thought over the words of her neighbour.

Later that night, she opened her books again. Not with the intention to start studying. Just to look. There was fear in her heart, and doubts assailed her. But beneath all this, there was a stubborn curiosity to know what had gone wrong. She did not avoid the question this time.

She went through her notes, test papers, and the attempts made. Slowly, she could see patterns in it. The areas she had ignored, the mistakes she had repeated, and the concepts she had memorized without understanding. She felt uncomfortable but made an honest assessment.

She did not restart her preparation immediately. She analysed her shortcomings and built a routine. She adopted a different approach-she studied thoughtfully and did not jump blindly into it.

And she began to write again. Words did not come easily; it was as if she had forgotten the language. The flow of thoughts and words came to her slowly and gradually. She wrote about her experience with failure and her dreams about what she thought she would become and where she stands today.

She filled out the application for the exams, and months later, when the exam schedule was declared, Simi felt that something was different this time around. It was not that she was confident, but she felt that she was ready. She knew she might fail, but this thought did not paralyze her.

The results were out, but she did not rush to check them. She made coffee, sat down, took in a few breaths, and then opened the page. This time, the word she saw was “Selected”.

She stared at the screen as she had months ago. The feeling she felt was not what she had expected. There was relief, a quiet satisfaction, and an understanding that failure is not the ending, it is a new beginning.

The quote of John Wooden on failure came back to her. “Failure is not fatal, but failure to change might be”.

She stepped out of her room and shared the news with her parents, who had supported her silently through her fight.

There were tears of joy, relief, and smiles all around.