Hi readers! Thanks for sticking around even when I don't write for months. I was having a writer's block of sorts and generally a rough phase in my life. The poem I'm publishing below is a very personal one and took a great deal of bravery from my side to be even posted. Many friends dissuaded me from sharing this particular chapter of my life. I have written on what it is like, to feel like a failure even when you know that you aren't one. It might seem like a small problem to most of you but I assure you that it has taken its toll on my life. However , I've recovered enough to talk about it now and share it with others , for I know that I'm not alone and want others to not feel alone too. This post does not intend to be negative , it just captures one of the darker phases of my life. There is always light at the end of the tunnel , I just chose to project the darkness this time. Thank you.
People who get 98 start behaving like a 98
The poor ones who get an 8
Can’t help but feel like one.
Especially when you shower them with
Your 98 tonnes of optimism
It is not you , it is not them
It is the 8
Not the end of the world
But an 8.
Supposedly a learning curve
Mostly a slippery slope
A direct downward spiral
Into the invisible abyss
Of mass mediocrity .
Which they have been trying to avoid ,
Even when they were at their
Personal Everest of fame.
What can you really do?
When your personal brilliance
Gets scraped off your skin
With the harsh gravel
That is your education system.
Don’t worry about your results.
Just give your best every time
Even if you fail almost every time
For faults that you never made.
Don’t worry , Don’t feel , Don’t care
Just play fruit ninja
And believe that it is not your fault
That you failed.
Keep playing fruit ninja ,
Knowing you did nothing to deserve that 8 .
Keep playing till you break all levels
Till you start doubting the veracity of your claims
Till you start doubting the obvious.
You know you did nothing wrong.
But where is the proof?
Who feels like shit?
Not that you know how shit really feels like
But you get the gist.
Who feels depressed all the time ,
Not able to cope with a seemingly
Erroneous failure ,
You or university or god?
Till the day of hopefully inevitable rectification
Who has to squirm every time they hear an 8?
The number you once loved
Because it was so easy to draw
Till you found out 2 O’s wasn’t the way anyways.
The number which you mastered
To apply for license .
The number you cannot help but hate irrationally.
If what happened was so irrational
As everyone makes it out to be,
Why can’t we have our own irrational outburst to it?
Functioning after a failure is tough
Even for the best of us.
It is like learning to walk
With broken legs
Which aren’t set properly.
Extending the stick called sensitivity
Is more than welcome.
It might be not as grave as it sounds
But it certainly feels that way.
Outpouring of grief on virtual paper
Might never solve anything ,
But what else can one do really?
No one can control anything.
Except the person who gives
Marks it seems.
Samyuktha Semi Jayaprakash