The Winner Takes It All

As much as I want to, as much as I try, sometimes things aren't within my sphere of influence. I'm not a self-defeatist. I always get back on my feet somehow. Experiences have made me jaded, bitter and cynical. Yet, there is the childlike factor within me that I guard fiercely, as if it were the last ounce of joy I have before all is lost.

Perhaps it was naive to think that I had a magical wand to set things right by emulating time frames. We learn from falls. From bruises and cuts, the fundamental concept of cause and effect inscribes itself into our cognitive epitaph.

Hurts, deep as they are, will heal, albeit piercing anguish into a fragile being.

A beautiful flutterby when clutched in a clenched fist for a prolonged period, will have its life snuffed out before long. Beauty is transient. So are other finite qualities which we cling onto with gnashed teeth in fervent grit.

Dawn and dusk will transit gracefully in due time.T

he competitive streak in me doesn't take loss gracefully. Disappointment washes me with dread. When proven right, it spurs me on to achieve victory.

On a personal level, I advocate honesty and draw a clear distinction between black and white. I don't need to be told if I was right. I know I was.

I'm not afraid to lose. To lose is to sidestep a former victory and pave the way for another victor. It is an exchange, a transaction between individuals.

I know I've won once.

In every competition, the victor is declared and a medal adorns the individual as an acknowledgement of his place at the top. The position secured is fleeting before another comes along to take his place. Defeat is inevitable.

And that's what I've been waiting for -
To be acknowledged that I had indeed won before.

With that, I would be able to lay the medal on the mantle - occasionally glancing it with pride and adoration, dwelling in a past glory before resting its memory and facing the present.