HE TRIED

We used to call him Podgy. And he was true to his name. Short,
flabby and bulging at all the wrong places. He was a good soul always
looking to help others. For instance somebody's bed needed to be moved
a few inches. If Podgy happened to know of the circumstances he would
rush to the spot. Once there, he would apply all his strength to get
the work done. The work often would not proceed to completion but Podgy
tried nevertheless. You could not fault him for not trying. Whenever
there arose an occasion which necessitated the show of any skill Podgy
would throw his substantial weight into it. But fate was often cruel
for he never succeeded at what he tried. We used to study in the same
school. We were at the age when you start entering into competitive
sports. All of us were registered for the 100m race. And for a
fortnight before the race Podgy practiced like there was no tomorrow.
He would run around our building ten times in the evening hoping to
work on his speed. The rest of us took it easy. We felt really really
bad when Podgy could not even finish the race. This was of course only
about sports. There were other activities too. Our school was well
known for its many musical talents. Podgy decided to be one of them. He
spent months trying to learn the violin. He did well enough during
practice sessions but during the competition he struck the bow so hard
on the string that both broke into pieces. Naturally there was a lot of
laughter at his expense and as friends we felt bad. In ninth grade we
were required to choose extra subjects. The two subjects available were
Commerce and Work Education. Podgy first chose Commerce declaring that
his brother was good at Commerce. The next day he chose Work Education
again saying that his brother was out of town. The day after he chose
Commerce again saying that his brother had returned. Podgy tried to be
good all the time but fate always intervened to cause problems. During
this time we were being introduced to the language French. Since it was
a foreign language a lot of us had to join outside coaching to better
learn the language. Podgy was good at languages and he really did not
need to join private coaching. In fact he had secured the highest marks
in French in the first semester. But there was a very notorious
character in our class called Tinoo. After the results of the first
semester became known he visited Podgy's house. Once there, he told
Podgy about a girl called Mita. Apparently Mita had heard of Podgy's
language skills and was dying to meet him. Podgy was taken in by this
falsehood and hurriedly joined Damu's French Classes. In the midst of
many others he lost his way. Soon things became so bad that he would
barely pass in French. It was around this time that Podgy decided that
he had to do something to leave his footprints on the sands of time. He
tried many things. He tried to paint another Monalisa but found he
could barely draw. He tried to write poetry but failed. He started a
small business but soon went bankrupt. In the end he decided he would
do what he did best-he would fail. And using his writing skills he
would tell the world how to fail in book after book. As I write this
Podgy has made yet another million by writing about his incessant
failures. He tried, he failed and he told the world what he did to
attract constant failure. And from his tales of continuous failure has
emerged a raging success. We are proud of you, Podgy!