I think I don’t like success.
Don’t take me wrong, I enjoy the satisfaction, the respect, the perks, the money….who doesn’t, but it’s not that. Allow me to elaborate.
About a year ago I entered marketing. My job was such that if you could think marketing, perceive your demographic, and talk sense to them, you had it made to good income and a loyal fan following for life! And I could see that I loved doing what I do. As time moved on, I got so much into it, I felt I was born to convince people.
But all throughout, I had promised myself that I’ll never let success go to my head. I would work as hard and with as much sincerity as ever for me and everyone in my team, now my army. As time moved on, things got busier, but I always prided myself that I had succeeded in my intention, that I had managed to work well while keeping a levelled head and my feet firmly on the ground. Until today an oversight forced me to introspect and reconsider.
I was late for a meeting at south-ex. As I was speeding down to my destination, Vandita, an associate smsed to inform me that two people wouldn’t make it as one had met an accident and the other one was delayed. Soon another sms followed inquiring further course of action. I called her and arranged some damaged control, and soon forgot after I pulled up at a petrol pump to refuel my car.
On reaching there, we got on to work quickly since we were already delayed, and the matter of two people not making it did not crop up until later, when I was so over-whelmed with the success of the meeting that I didn’t pay much heed to it.
But tonight as I browsing into my sms inbox for a phone number smsed to me, I came across that sms again, and it took only a moment for silence and an embarrassing realisation to make me forget everything else.
I never asked Vandita how her friend was after the accident, or that if she wanted to go see her, she would be relieved.
I wanted to call Vandita and ask her right then, but it was an indecent hour to call late into the night.
An injury to a fellow human being was completely overshadowed by the urgency and the exhilaration of something I do to earn enough to splurge on pretentious food and large tips at overpriced restaurants.
Right then, in that very moment in my successful life, I was suddenly not rich or big.
I was actually poor and very small.