"Loser" - a short story

“Clear your desk by six this evening. I have had enough of you and your timid sales acumen”, blasted Mr.Taylor right onto my face.

Countless droplets of spit graced my face after what seemed like a century-long discussion. Not so much a discussion, but more of a one-way shouting while I stood still to bear the storm of Mr. Taylor’s heavy words and endless spitting. I had of course tried my best to squeeze in a few words of apology and a dedication to perform better the next time but, as I said, it was almost entirely one-way. I was hardly given a chance to utter more than three words at a time.

I silently walked past my colleagues to my desk. Jeremi had that Oh-I-emphatise-with-you look and followed me to my desk. I knew in my heart of hearts that his was more of an adding-salt-to-the-wound gesture than genuine concern. Stella, who was busy knitting under her table, looked up, gave a cursory glance and then returned back to her “work”. Others in the office did not even bother a glance.

As I sat at my desk, I noticed a strange stillness in things around me. Somehow the wall-calendar that usually beats around restlessly when the ceiling fan is in full swing, was surprisingly quiet today. I thought it emphatised with me. But to my disappointment it felt more like the calendar was staring back at me. Things always seem to have a tendency of staring back at me. It is always as if I am inferior to people and things around me and they all reserve the right to stare back and demean me.

You could say I am the perennial “loser” in life.

Always managed the grades, but never the respect of peers and teachers around me.

Never mustered the strength to ask a girl out – which according to the boys in high school and college was a big “loser” thingy (whatever that means…probably a feminine version of a thing, purposely used to add insult to what is already inherent in being a “loser”).

Always scared to break the rules and break out of the mould.

Always part of a hunk-gang but almost always an understudy and a have-been rather than genuinely belonging to the group.

Today, a dumped salesperson whose services the leading cosmetics company of the nation no longer requires. Mr.Taylor described my sales tactics as very conservationist and lacking adventure, in short, the ‘loser” types who doesn’t dare to do things and go places.

I stormed out of the office at half past five, a good half an hour before the deadline set by Taylor. The lift was under maintenance. I kicked it twice to vent my frustration on an already terrible day and dragged myself down the stairs.

As I was rushing to my car a young man in army fatigues and on crutches approached me for money. A young beggar was always a sad sight. He started narrating his Kargil heroics and how he lost his leg and how he needed money to apply for some jobs. I could care less about his story but dumped a hundred rupee bill into his hand just to get him through his immediate needs. Some high point personally for me after a hard long day.

It has been eleven years since that fateful day.

Life has not changed much for me over the years. Parents left for their heavenly abode after trying their very best to get me married. But girls just could not see beyond the “loser” in me who would most definitely, according to them, fail to bring them security and love. Have hardly earned any respect from peers and employees all these years. The tendency to stick by the rules and never to venture out has proven my biggest obstacle to breaking out of the “loser” tag.

Life ahead also seems exactly a mirror image of what has been. I seem destined to die a loser.

But only yesterday something happened that promises to change me like none other.

I was surfing through the channels late last night and the cable connection got cut off. So I was forced to take a look at the national Doordarshan channel.

An IAS officer who was recently appointed to the External Affairs ministry was giving an interview. His was a perfect rags-to-riches story- how one man’s little help had changed the future of this officer. In the words of that officer, it was this man whose help was solely responsible for his present success and it was this man who was a “true winner” in this world.

The officer was young and well built, with a very ‘army’ look to him and looked strangely familiar. My mouth dropped in astonishment, but more with content, when I noticed the officer was on crutches as well.

I realised I might just die a winner, for a change.

- by Fuehrer