In middle school, debating was all the rage. The ones who made it to the team were treated like demigods, and given rapt attention as they belted out what seemed then like unbelievably quick-witted and well-thought-out arguments.
Needless to say, I sat with my classmates and watched on in awe as those batchmates of mine who had received this highest honor of being on the team walked up to the lectern, shuffled through their notes, cleared their throat and began their speeches. The competitiveness on display between the two teams on stage was palpable, as quick retorts and veritable sparks flew from one side to the other.
It was my dream to someday be on that stage, and command the respect and attention of dozens of people as I spoke.
When the next debating season rolled around, I auditioned for my house team. A significant step down from the coveted School Team, it was still a start. And so it was that I gave my audition, and somehow, miraculously, left the seniors who conducted the audition with the impression that I was worthy of occupying a place on the house team.
Not long after, I found myself standing before that very lectern I had yearned after for so long, with the added responsibility of being the first speaker for my team. But standing on the other side of the lectern was nothing like what it had seemed to be from the comfortable seat amongst the audience, who now watched me with unmoving, unforgiving eyes, aware of my every movement and every word.
My hands shook, my knees trembled and my voice quivered as I stammered through my speech, my confidence in my abilities dropping with every consecutive syllable I uttered. It was the worst experience of my life, and one I was glad to have gotten over with.
The team lost the debate, and I didn't hesitate for a second in holding myself personally responsible for the loss. The only consolation I offered myself was that it was my very first time, and that I would improve with subsequent debates. Little did I realise then that I would never again even make it past the auditions for the house team, despite trying every single year from 9th to 12th grade.
By this time, I had convinced myself that debate and public speaking was not for me, and I watched in silence as my debator batchmates rose from strength to strength, finally making it to the School Team and winning national level competitions.
I had all but forgotten about debating when the society selection round in college started. The Debating Society was one of them, and was going to be holding auditions. I overcame my inhibitions and convinced myself to give it a shot. College was a fresh start, I told myself. A clean slate. So I applied to the "DebSoc" and walked into the audition nervous as ever, clutching my prepared speech with both hands, holding onto it like my life depended on it.
As it turns out, the speech wasn't half bad, and once again, I made it in - one of twenty who did so out of the two hundred who applied. I was ecstatic, and my seniors' confidence in my ability to debate somehow seemed to rekindle my own.
A few months down the line, I found myself in the same position I had been in all those years ago, this time at an inter-college debate being conducted in front of a packed hall filled with my own batchmates and people from colleges across the city. Memories of my former experience came flooding back, and with them self-doubt. I walked up to the lectern with a straight face, focusing all my energy on keeping the chaos in my mind from spilling out.
It took me everything I had to push all negative thoughts out of my mind as I commenced my speech. I spoke slowly and measuredly, taking the advice of someone who once told me it was the best way to overcome speech-related stage fright. That man was also awarded the Best Speaker, he told me, after following that simple trick during his first time.
Words cannot describe how I felt when I enjoyed the same fate. The wind seemed to lift me a few feet off the ground as I glided towards the Chief Guest's outstretched hand, congratulating me on my victory. My mind couldn't fully believe what was happening, despite the roar of applause from the audience all around me. It was my proudest moment.
The rest, as they say, is history. I went on to win over a dozen state and national level debates, shaking hands and clashing verbal swords with some of the most eminent public speakers along the way. And while each of those victories was unique and special in its own way, nothing will ever match the elation of my first time.