Life Is A Challenge, Embrace It | Shaurya Shaktiman, IIM Ranchi

Part A

My Journey: A Nightmare to a Dream

I remember walking through those tall grasses. My sister would hold my hand while going through the small clearings, which were created by the footsteps of cows and buffaloes that regularly grazed the area, and you’d often find their waste along with their footsteps, and some cockle burrs sticking out through the grass, waiting to catch your clothes and give you a painful itching. We were kids my sister and I. I was nine, my sister a year older and a lot braver than her age, would often take the lead and walk us through that 2-km journey to our school. At the end of the hedge was a small, cracked fence made out of old bricks painted in white lime. To our right was the morgue, with no windows to hide and no doors to lock whatever demons lay inside. Half of the roof was blown off, as if it went through a war. We would slip through the fence and go straight into the premises of a compound. We would walk further, between the red-cross building to our left and a bizarre looking building, old and dilapidated, to our right. There was something awfully terrible about the old building that gave me shivers every time I looked at it. So, we’d move quickly and cross that compound, jump another fence and finally, to our greatest delight, reach our small school. You’d be wondering, ‘Where was he studying anyway? A Jungle!’. No, it was my home town some 17 years ago, a small village called Sanhauli, in a small district of Khagaria, Bihar. Our journey to school every morning was nothing short of a scary adventure for us. If not for my sister, it would have been impossible for me to walk that path. Perhaps it was same for her.  Interestingly, the tall grass was part of one of the most prominent buildings of our town – our Government Hospital or ‘Sadar Aspatal’ as we called it. Shocking as it would be to many of our readers, the hospital was in a morbid situation (notice how I personified the place). The building had many rooms in it, including the OPD, the A&E, eye-care canter, diagnostic imaging, ENT, and an OT. However, most of these rooms were missing part of walls, windows and doors; some even half the roof.

There was a small distributor in our town, who had the agency of Aditya Birla’s UltraTech
cement, one of the very few agencies that could supply the raw materials that were necessary to build that place to its former glory. Years later, when the government changed, the new Nitish government took charge of renovating the hospital, and that agency was called for supplies of cement, concrete, Industrial grade steel,  grouts and other construction material. Today, in 2019, I am proud to say that the same old hospital stands tall as one of the most impressive buildings of my town. To me, Aditya Birla Group stands as a symbol of progress and development. It reminds me of the days that had passed, and the days that are yet to come, and the days to come are full of hopes and dreams. Thank you Aditya Birla Group.

 

Part B

Only He’s Exempt of Failure, Who Makes No Attempt

There is a reason why I chose to tell our readers the story of my journey to my school. It closely follows the biggest challenge that I faced in my life. I studied in a Hindi-medium Bihar board school most of my early life. In 2002 however, a sudden abrupt change came in my life when I joined D.A.V. Public school, Khagaria, which was a C.B.S.E. school, with all subjects in English. People who studied in Bihar Board know that English isn't a very popular choice of subject. Naturally, I was really bad at it. I failed the entrance test in English, however, I performed exceptionally in Maths, despite the fact that I didn't know what was asked in the question(to be on the safer side, I’d write everything in the answer, in the hopes that one of the results would be what the question required me to write). I was given admission on the condition that should I fail, my admission will stand canceled. That year was full of anxiety and fear. I was not able to understand what teachers taught in the class, as it was all in a language that was foreign to me. I struggled to write notes. First unit test was a nightmare. But I did not give up. That year, I focused on my English. I would simply open any text-book and start writing the topics down, even though I wouldn't understand half of it. But the next time I wrote the same thing, it came to me more easily, and with more meaning attached to it. Third time was even better. With continuous repetition and practice, English language became friendly to me, so much so that despite all the challenges, I came 3^rd in my class that year. I learned a really valuable lesson that day; experience is what you get when you don’t get what you want. If we chose to stay in our comfort zone, we will never grow and learn new things. It’s when you come out of your cocoon that you see the beauty that the world around you is.