When my daughter was learning to walk I used to get paranoid. She would fall, fall and fall. It’s too much for a mother really to see her baby fall so often. Everyday she would scrape her knee. Or bang her head against a stool and have a little bump. But still she would dodder and fall. Dodder and fall. Each day she improved and fell a little less. Until one fine day, she no longer doddered. She had learnt to walk.
I wish we all remember this lesson all our life. But sadly no.
As parents we are so afraid of the failure of our children. We regard these failures as our own personal failure. I remember when my cousin’s son flunked his 10th standard exams – she was devastated. She used to beat him up every day and went into depression herself. The child’s sense of failure was so much more magnified by her actions that he became mentally imbalanced. Today, he is 35 years old and is capable of doing absolutely nothing. He is still dependent on his elderly parents.
Now here’s another story I heard today.
Our Chartered Accountant visited this morning. My boss called me and told me – he would be slightly delayed and asked me ensure that the CA is comfortable. As bidden, I took the CA to the conference room, offered him tea etc. He is an elderly, rather garrulous man – a refreshing change from the stern CA’s one sees around I must say! Because he was a jolly old man, I joined him for a cup of tea and we got talking. The topic drifted to failures in life – me continuing from yesterday’s philosophical mood and all that. The CA laughed at my woes and told me this story:
Once upon a time there was a little boy. The naughtiest of three brothers, he used to hate studies. Teachers were always complaining about him. And due to his own carelessness, he flunked his 10th standard exams. His parents were very upset – but they did not berate the child. He was asked to quit studies – in fact his school threw him out! So the boy started working in a printing press as a helper. At first he was thrilled to be working and earning money. But then, after a month of working 14 hour shifts, fetching tea for people and inhaling all that poisonous ink, the boy realized how important it was for him to study. He went to his father and wept bitterly. He had come to a decision – he wanted to continue his studies. His parents supported him and with great difficulty got him admission in another school. From then on the boy’s transformation was remarkable! He became an outstanding student and stood school first in his 12th exams. He also went on to clear his CA and ICWA in the very first attempt.
I got goose bumps when I heard the story. And when the old man casually completed his story saying – “that little boy was me” I choked on my cup of tea!
For me this was a lesson on the importance of failure. Certainly a lesson for all parents to take the failure of their children positively. And move on. Who knows what beautiful future their failures will pave the way for…
