Topic:
The lessons we take from failure can be fundamental to later success. Recount an incident or time when you experienced failure. How did it affect you, and what did you learn from the experience?
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The sun gleamed across the western horizon as I thrived to hit the cricket ball nearly out of the park. It was a perfect summer afternoon. "Ahnaf! Ahnaf!" screamed Ome, my team captain. We needed four runs to win the match. I had sent the ball dancing in distress for a six! I was having the best time of my life this summer. Playing hide and seek, badminton, soccer or maybe video games: What else could a kid like me ever wish for? I was living in paradise.
I was academically ranked 3rd of 345 people on the merit list that very year. My life could not get any better.
Well.. It didn't!
With my sudden interest in sports and games I was slacking off from studies.By the time I realized that it was too late. Our Mid-term exams were just around the corner. I studied nothing the entire vacation. My dad used to teach me math. Our family took a distinct pride at having a good hand at math. "The Math Magician", sometimes, my father used to call himself to give his teaching session a flavor of amusement.
Summer was over, so was my temporary paradise. The mid-terms exams of Grade-5 were by far the worst exam I had ever had to sit for. I had no clue about what was going on in the exam papers. Geometry problems felt like I was asked to find the diameter of the sun with nothing but an umbrella and a measuring tape. I barely managed to pull an average B in all the subjects but at math, which needed constant attention and practice, I got 44 out of 100.
Yes! I had "F" in math.I knew what was next. The math magician would be waving his wand casting his strongest spell to send me flying!
The power had gone out and I could see my dad sitting across the table in the lights of a blue-yellow flame of a candle. I handed him my report card! His face changed! I could not see his face entirely but If I had to guess I would say his face had a color of disappointment with a dark shade of sadness. He said nothing. For the first time, I had realized how silence hurts you more than words ever can.
Unlike what I thought, I was not grounded and now when I think of it I wish he did that rather than what he actually did instead. He decided to stop teaching me math. I cried more than I ever had in my life that winter. What had I done? I learnt we all have to pay the price for our failure. I studied alone that half-term. "Ahnaf! Ome's here!" used to scream my mom every other afternoon. I used to see my friends through the window of my room. I would be busy flipping through math exercises. I had to get back what I had lost. I barely could understand one chapter. I used to work on it again and again till I had I finally understood it. I would cry as I missed my dad sitting next to me, teaching me. I had promised myself to fix things. I must!
7 years have passed. I teach Grade-9 and Grade-10 math in a school now. I am a Sorcerer; at least that's what I tell my students. I claim to be flawless in Trigonometric levitation and tackling geometrical curse spells.
I had a different passion for math ever since that semester. I had an average of 74 that year in math so if you know your spells too, you would know that I got a 100% in the finals that year. My dad dropped a tear when he read my report card that winter. He had granted me his apprenticeship back. He was after all.. The math magician and I was his apprentice.
The lessons we take from failure can be fundamental to later success. Recount an incident or time when you experienced failure. How did it affect you, and what did you learn from the experience?
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The sun gleamed across the western horizon as I thrived to hit the cricket ball nearly out of the park. It was a perfect summer afternoon. "Ahnaf! Ahnaf!" screamed Ome, my team captain. We needed four runs to win the match. I had sent the ball dancing in distress for a six! I was having the best time of my life this summer. Playing hide and seek, badminton, soccer or maybe video games: What else could a kid like me ever wish for? I was living in paradise.
I was academically ranked 3rd of 345 people on the merit list that very year. My life could not get any better.
Well.. It didn't!
With my sudden interest in sports and games I was slacking off from studies.By the time I realized that it was too late. Our Mid-term exams were just around the corner. I studied nothing the entire vacation. My dad used to teach me math. Our family took a distinct pride at having a good hand at math. "The Math Magician", sometimes, my father used to call himself to give his teaching session a flavor of amusement.
Summer was over, so was my temporary paradise. The mid-terms exams of Grade-5 were by far the worst exam I had ever had to sit for. I had no clue about what was going on in the exam papers. Geometry problems felt like I was asked to find the diameter of the sun with nothing but an umbrella and a measuring tape. I barely managed to pull an average B in all the subjects but at math, which needed constant attention and practice, I got 44 out of 100.
Yes! I had "F" in math.I knew what was next. The math magician would be waving his wand casting his strongest spell to send me flying!
The power had gone out and I could see my dad sitting across the table in the lights of a blue-yellow flame of a candle. I handed him my report card! His face changed! I could not see his face entirely but If I had to guess I would say his face had a color of disappointment with a dark shade of sadness. He said nothing. For the first time, I had realized how silence hurts you more than words ever can.
Unlike what I thought, I was not grounded and now when I think of it I wish he did that rather than what he actually did instead. He decided to stop teaching me math. I cried more than I ever had in my life that winter. What had I done? I learnt we all have to pay the price for our failure. I studied alone that half-term. "Ahnaf! Ome's here!" used to scream my mom every other afternoon. I used to see my friends through the window of my room. I would be busy flipping through math exercises. I had to get back what I had lost. I barely could understand one chapter. I used to work on it again and again till I had I finally understood it. I would cry as I missed my dad sitting next to me, teaching me. I had promised myself to fix things. I must!
7 years have passed. I teach Grade-9 and Grade-10 math in a school now. I am a Sorcerer; at least that's what I tell my students. I claim to be flawless in Trigonometric levitation and tackling geometrical curse spells.
I had a different passion for math ever since that semester. I had an average of 74 that year in math so if you know your spells too, you would know that I got a 100% in the finals that year. My dad dropped a tear when he read my report card that winter. He had granted me his apprenticeship back. He was after all.. The math magician and I was his apprentice.
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