Narrator – Krishna
The evening sun bled gold across the college courtyard, painting the cracked pavement in warm light. Students laughed somewhere behind me, their voices mingling with the faint hum of a scooter struggling up the street. I sat on the edge of the stone steps, a notebook balanced on my knee, watching the world move without me.
I couldn't help but think — we live in a fascinating time. Knowledge, money, power… they're all out there, free for the taking. My father used to tell me that in his youth, these things were locked away, guarded by birth, status, even the colour of your skin. But now? Anyone can reach for them. Anyone.
And yet… almost no one does.
Look around. Out of thousands, maybe only a handful truly rise. The rest — they drift. My own parents still wonder why their son, despite having more opportunities than they ever dreamed of, isn't at the top of his class, his career, his life. "Where did we go wrong?" I've heard them whisper. "Why is someone else's child soaring while ours barely moves?"
The truth?
We don't put in enough effort. That's it. Not luck. Not talent. Effort.
And I'm not saying this from some high throne of success — I'm one of the guilty ones. I've made plans, drawn grand maps of my future, then abandoned them halfway because the distractions were too sweet, too easy. My phone, my games, my endless scrolling — all of it quietly poisoning my goals.
But I'm done watching my life waste away in comfort.
That's when I thought of him.
Eklavya. Not a hero from some ancient tale — just a guy in my year. Ordinary college student. Average grades. The kind of person you wouldn't notice in a crowd. But there's something about him. He's tired of being mediocre. Tired of drifting. He's decided he'll fight for his goals with everything he has, so that when his time comes, he won't leave this world with regrets.
I can already see it — he'll stumble, fall, fail miserably. And then he'll get up, brush off the dust, and try again. He won't let anyone else's definition of success confine him. He'll learn what needs to be learned, endure what needs to be endured, and keep walking.
And maybe, just maybe, through his story… I'll learn to do the same.
This is his journey.
This is my journey.
Maybe, if you're reading this, it can be yours too.
But first things first — we need to decide what we truly want.
Our goal.
The streetlights flicker on, and I close my notebook. Somewhere deep inside, a fire stirs.