Participate in the 3rd Season of STORYMIRROR SCHOOLS WRITING COMPETITION - the BIGGEST Writing Competition in India for School Students & Teachers and win a 2N/3D holiday trip from Club Mahindra
Participate in the 3rd Season of STORYMIRROR SCHOOLS WRITING COMPETITION - the BIGGEST Writing Competition in India for School Students & Teachers and win a 2N/3D holiday trip from Club Mahindra

Purpose

Purpose

7 mins 20K 7 mins 20K

As he sat on one of the comfy chairs in the front row, his eyes got blinded with all the sparkling lights and suddenly his vision went wandering in the virtual world which seemed familiar to his memory. He could suddenly see his younger self of around a year and a half, who could barely learnt talk, crying for a particular sweet he saw from the window of the state transport bus he was sitting in. His mother caressing him trying to hide her helplessness as they barely had money left after getting the bus tickets and his dad trying to check his pockets if he had some to fulfil their child’s demand. But, it was no use. His cries got louder as time passed and the helplessness of parents started to get converted into grief as they could not get a couple of pieces of a sweet for their little world.


His mind suddenly went into a fast forward mode when he was expecting his results of class 12. Every second was like an eternity and why not, after all, he had been a meritorious student throughout and today, he would be licensed to pursue his dreams. His teachers had complimented him much before and suggested to start looking for the medicine colleges he was interested getting into. He took all of that with humility and grace. Here came the result and bang; all his dreams crashed like a tower crumbling down at the earthquake. He could not believe his eyes and checked again if he was looking at his own score. The score sheet read – “Yash Sharma” in the name section which was a final nail in the coffin confirming it was him.


Suddenly, he envisioned himself in his late twenties when he was having a decent corporate job and a family after completing business management degree. He seemed contented with what he had achieved so far but hungry for more just like any of his contemporary of similar age. His was a perfect life of a working class person. Whenever his mother or wife advised him to take a break and take care of his habits, he would joke, “If I slow down, I’ll lose.” Once, he was to go to his hometown for the festival. His wife and other members of his family were already there waiting for him. He boarded the luxury bus and was cheerful about the festivities. The festivals were the only

time he relaxed while running the rat race of the corporate life. The bus was cruising at the top speed and suddenly he experienced a jerk with a loud noise.


All he could remember was blood streaming down his cheeks. He opened his eyes to his family

around in the hospital who were delighted on seeing him getting conscious. They had spent the entire night without any rest just praying for his recovery and here he was conscious in front of them. His horror was yet to be known as he had fractured his limbs and doctors advised complete rest for 6 months. “He would need the crutches for the rest of his life” mumbled the doctor. There it was. It took him centuries to absorb what the doctor had just mentioned. No company would wish to have a handicapped person in the marketing team that require frequent travelling. There was nothing else he could think of that he knew. He was back to square one where he was after his class 12 results. He had put in a lot to be where he was in the corporate ladder. He had

skipped family time, skipped meals, ignored his health even at times.


While recovering, he started compiling his struggle with the time. While noting his experiences, he felt like a hero in his own right who had survived a lot and that gave him courage to continue with a renewed zeal with every passing day. Meanwhile, so strong became his determination to defeat the odds that after 13 months of the accident, he was running on a treadmill. Having spent months in the company of pen & paper, Yash finally realised his calling and what he could do the best. He started the second innings of his career, this time without any bondage or pressure, without any

fear or expectations, without any accountabilities or directives. The only person he was accountable to was his inner self. He ceased to stop till he was convinced. Suddenly, he started getting positioned among his idols of one time. But, as they say, credibility does not guarantee financial stability. His days of hardships would not leave him easily from the clutches. He started coaching

young enthusiasts on contemporary writing during the day and catered to his own passion of writing till late night barely getting any rest. His wife often coaxed him, “please get some rest. You are not a kid to be told health is wealth”. He would re-buff with the same recorded response, “If I slow down, I’ll lose.” But this time, he seemed a man on a mission.


Very soon, he got in touch with some of his old friends and set up an online web-site based organisation to publish the ideas of beginners to start with. The starting was tough as few were attracted and odds of keeping it alive were too high. It seemed to end as another roadblock just

like his academics and his corporate life. Suddenly, he stumbled upon an idea. Every morning, he listened to a radio station that held contests and the winners would get a hamper or a prize. He remembered the words of one of his past superior, “Media is going to be a new weapon in the coming age. You may use it wisely or abuse it depends on your wisdom.” He got in touch with the station who was ready to allot a week to him for the contest which ran only for

freelance writers and the winners would get their articles published on his web-site. The rage was so much that thousands of requests poured in from the writers on a daily basis and with that started a torrent of sponsorship for his website. His work increased to an extent that he had to hire editors to screen the articles sent by the writers. He told one of his colleague, “Hum

to nikale the akele apni manzil ki aur, log milte gaye or caravan banta gaya” meaning I started along on my journey towards the destination, but people started joining in and a caravan was formed.


Five years down the road and he ran a full-fledged corporate that published stuff ranging from the writers who were the top guns in the writing industry to the budding writers. He now had a full staff working in his company including the regional offices across the country and overseas

as well. All this seemed like a dream to him starting from a kid crying for

sweets to having the world at his feet. A thought crept into his mind if all the ill events were a purpose to catapult him to where he was today. His was interrupted with a pat on his forearm.


“Where are you lost?” his wife said.


“Oh nothing. What happened?” Yash composed himself pretending to be aware of the surroundings.


“They just announced entrepreneur of the year, Mr. Yash Sharma and just look at little Mili dancing at your name.”


All he could see was his little angel dancing as his dad’s name was announced and thundering applause from the crowd. He got up from his seat and hastened to the stage. He received the award and now was his turn to share his feelings on this big occasion.


“Rather than my feelings, I would like to share the experiences of my life and pardon me if I sound too much prophetic.” The crowd again rose to the thunderous applause and he again continued, “The world knows about my glory currently but few know what I have encountered in my way of getting here. Remember friends, a seed is very comfortable beneath the ground. But, it needs to break open the earth’s surface and battle all odds in order to grow into a full bloomed tree. The condition beneath the ground is the comfort zone which is very soothing, but nothing grows there. I was in my comfort zone till I met with a deadly accident that pushed me out of my comfort zone. So,

every mishap may not necessarily be so in the long run. Every event in your life is a signal from the supernatural being which a believer may call as god and an atheist may call destiny. If you do not get the message from the subtle signs about who you truly are, that supernatural force will push you into discomfort to help you realise your potential. It is with a purpose. Cutting the long story short, I would mention that anything and everything happens for a purpose. I would sign off thanking all the people who have touched my life.”


The crowd again rose to a thunderous applause this time with a standing ovation.


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