What would I live/die for?

- Saransh Kejriwal (B19043)

What would I live for?

This realisation dawned upon me soon after my third CAT/XAT result. Out of all the four attempts I had
made, CAT 2017 and XAT 2018 were by far my worst ones.
Albeit these were because of medical reasons – I had conjunctivitis at the time and had to give the exam
with an eyepatch, I didn’t imagine that my results would be that poor…

All my life, I was made to live in the future – my parents kept pushing me to prepare for the next big thing
in my life – the next big exam, the next big assignment, the next big college, the next big anything. I was of
no value if I wasn’t better than every other kid in the neighbourhood.
The biggest problem wasn’t that my valuation as a human being was much like that of a stock market
share, the problem was…that I kept winning.
In the first 22 years of my life, I had never tasted failure like I had on that month of January 2018, when I
had absolutely no hope of getting into any B-school whatsoever. Until that point, I always had an option, a
choice, a path…something. In my previous CAT attempts, I had converted B-schools, but of course, I let go
of them because perhaps “I could do better”.

Thus, for the first 25 years of my life, all I was asked, and all I kept asking myself was – “what’s next?”

Won this competition – “What’s next?”

Got into a good college – “What’s next?”
Got a decent job – “What’s next?”

Living in the future tense meant that I was always running towards a goal that wasn’t fully material, and I
didn’t stop to take a breath and reflect at how far I’ve come.

When I saw failure like I did in January 2018, for the first time I got myself to ask – “What now?!”
I never had the opportunity to look at my present because I kept envisioning what I’ll be 5 years from now.
Now that my entire career prospect was in tatters, I had nothing to look at but the sight of my bedroom
and ask myself, “How the hell did I get here?”

For the first time in my life, I was living in the present, and it felt…lighter. I didn’t have anything to run to, I
had nowhere to go, I had no prospect, no hope, no goals, no ambitions – I was free of myself.

The six months that followed hence, before I thrust myself into a fourth attempt, were the best six months
of my life. That’s where I knew what I would live for – living in the present…as soon as I have the
opportunity.
What would I die for?
Unfortunately, I’ve had to dabble with that question more times than what I might ideally like to, for
reasons that I’m not allowed to be proud of. However, having come this far, I can take a certain pride in
being inured by the fate that I haven’t yet given myself the option of availing.

I’ve had the luxury of standing out in any social or professional circle that I’ve been a part of – if only that
were as good as it sounds. It is particularly difficult for me to be another face in the crowd and be like
everyone else – someone eventually finds a “weird tangent”, as they call it here, about me and I’m given a
label – A brand.

I’ve been treated like a freak my entire childhood, and that built an innate scepticism, a bias if you would,
about investing in a social circle. Thus, I admit that it’s my fault for not craving the need for a social circle,
or for believing that I can invest my time in better things than the latest ongoing “fad” – my inner child
instinctively reminds me that it’s “safer” to keep a distance.

This naturally makes me come across as a rather eccentric character among my peers and make me stand
out for not being like them.

In class, we discussed how “spending some time with yourself” has become such a difficult thing; not for
me though; I get plenty of opportunities to do so, and I’m sick of it.

Naturally, the benefit of being the eccentric one is that they don’t let you remain as a nobody for too long
– you eventually become “that weird somebody” in no time.

A brand of not being like everyone else, coupled with my sincerity, means that I’m often sought after by
my peers to help them, but only as long as they need help. I’m “the go-to guy, but not the go-with guy.”

Eventually, the brand starts to speak louder than the individual, and the efforts to try to change oneself
seem futile for two reasons:
1) The change in perception will be much harder to bring about than the change in the person, and
2) “This above all, to thine own self be true.”

Therefore, as painful and socially scathing this brand of mine is, it is still my brand – it is here to stay; an
instant ticket out of the crowd, and I would die to protect.