All my life I'd read and heard various articles on success,failure and other sorts of related bull shit. Examples and analogies were thrown at me, but never once did I understand any of 'em. Reason- I'd never experienced either...nor did I ever give so much importance to any event in my life that would drive me to have such huge expectations from myself.
But after 19 years, 10 months, and 18 days of my life, Ive finally tasted one of 'em. FAILURE.
It can be sure be a bitch. It stings, it hurts, it frustrates and it angers. Thats what I am right now.Angry.
Lets roll back a couple of days....
It had been nearly a month since I'd shot something. College work and stress had kept me restrained from my camera, from my hobby. But then came the college festival and I was like 'Hell..why not?!?!". So on the last day of the festival I lugged my SLR film camera around my neck as I waded amongst the crowd that had gathered to see the Hindi band finals.
Concert Photography--understandably one of the toughest kinds of photography that one can encounter; owing to the dimmed,flickering multi-coloured lights and the non-stationary,non-caring, shrieking-as-if-you're-in-hell crowd. But hell, I don't blame 'em.
Throughout that day, the anticipation and the excitement mounted within me. By the time it began, I was high on enthusiasm...and by the time it ended I was high on my very own expectations. Exhausted and flushed out of energy, I returned home to my warm and faithful bed.
The next day I gave the film in for processing and scanning. The guy said he'd have it ready by tomorrow. After a bit of arguing and negotiation I convinced him to get it done by 8.30 pm, the same evening. An entire day of frustration which arose from anticipation didn't really help the situation. Every second felt like an eternity, as I sat looking at the ticking clock. At 8.30 pm sharp I was at the shop.
The photographs sucked...big time. Disappointment is a bigger bitch. What started next was the blame game that ran for around 5 seconds in my brain. First I blamed the studio guy (crime: for ruining the pictures) ;then I blamed the crowds (crime: for not standing still and causing the blurred images); then I blamed the poor lighting (crime: for not providing enough light that was required);then I blamed my camera (crime: for being an old film one and not a modern digital one); and then finally I blamed the photographer...me (crime: for being a bad one).
Everything numbed....all sounds and noises dimmed as realization hit me. I'm a failure. That thought rang around in my head as all my expectations came crashing down around me.
As I lay on my bed staring up at the dusty ceiling, I asked myself a thousand questions. Questions doubting my abilities, my passion, my hobby, raged through my mind as I noticed that there were some weird smudges on my ceiling that were probably caused due to water leakage. I shut my eyes and let the inner voice speak. All I got in response was "So...what??"
So what if your pictures sucked, so what if your not a good photographer, so what if your not that good at the only hobby you actually ever gave a damn about. Are these factors decisive of the future thats yet to come? Hell it certainly is NOT!!
Recovery is great.I'm not angry anymore. Its cool. Its okay. I'm fine.
It took me 19 years, 10 months and 18 days to finally taste Failure. I sure as hell know that its not gonna take me that long to taste Success.