Tailor, soldier, sailor, beggar man, thief, carpenter or a mere writer or a doctor or painter, what ever you are, ultimately what would matter is, your work. And how good you are at it. Nothing else.
Mind you, I said, WORK, and not money. Monetary accruements are mere appendages to one’s work. Essential, coveted even, but ultimately immaterial. I mean after you have made your hundredth crore, brought a house, a car, clothes, an IPL team, what? Money stops mattering after a while . Work never does. It makes you matter.
Your work gives you an indelible identity. You may have thousands of crorers in a bank account, but if you are not working any longer, you are a forgotten story, however if you are the best plumber in the city, your mobile never stops ringing.
After almost a life time spent in putting people and relationships, above my work , this is what I realise. Any relationship, any, no matter how deep, intense or pure or by any other adjective described, is destined to die on you. Finally.
Some simply peter out, others have other things to do. The excuses are many and multifold. But ultimately the result is the same. You are alone. Human beings have a way of moving on. If life does not take them away, death does the honours. You can’t depend on them.
Work never deserts you. It is a true ally and an all weather friend. What ever may be your business, be true to it. Focus on it, total. It would reciprocate, always.
But the moment you two time on it, it kicks you, hard. It is like riding a tiger, or running in front of a moving train. You have to keep doing it. All the time. Every day.
My grand pa had it right. He rose from a life of near poverty to be a rich man in all senses of the word. A palatial house, a sprawling farm, complete with a swimming pool, a great summer retreat in the hills, you name it, and he had it, by the time I grew up.
None of it was gifted to him. He inherited no property. He built himself everything out of his work. What’s more he enjoyed every bit of his prosperity and was ever willing to share it with his kin and friends. Truly a complete man.
As a teenager, I once asked him the secret of his success.
“Son,” he said, “you would not understand it as yet, but you would, when the time comes. When you grow up, you would fall in love with a woman, you may even marry her,” he had said with his eyes twinkling, continuing, “ you would find immense pleasure when you sleep with her, but when you find greater pleasure in your work, you would succeed. That is how intensely you must covet success in your work.”
I have never met a wiser man than you, grand pa. You given us a benchmark and a litmus test at the same time.
