Second place silence

" What It Feels to Be Second: A Margin That Meant Everything "

By Sugyan Nanda

Dreams don’t always die with a loud crash. Sometimes, they dissolve quietly—by 0.34 marks.

At one point of my life, I have envisioned a moment. Standing tall at the convocation, wearing that medal of honour, hearing my name announced as the Gold Medalist in M.A. Political Science, and watching my parents’ eyes gleam with pride. It was more than just a medal. It was for every sacrifice, every late night, every rejection faced, and every time I told myself, “One day, this will be worth it.” But that day… didn’t come as I imagined. I missed it. By 0.34 marks.

Being second is a strange place to be. You are celebrated, but not remembered. You are praised, but not rewarded. And what hurts more is not that I failed—I didn’t—but that I came so close to the dream I built for years, only to watch it slip through my fingers.

This isn’t the first time. In matric, in +2, and now in postgraduation, I have seen success inch away from me by the narrowest of margins. The difference was never effort. It was destiny, or maybe those one or two wrong turns that no one sees but you carry forever.

And yet, what keeps me afloat is the love I receive. My parents, my loved ones, my friends—they never saw me as second. They only saw someone who gave his all, someone who never gave up, someone who fought for every inch. And their backing, their belief, is perhaps the greatest reward I could ever earn.

It’s tough, truly. You question yourself. “Could I have written that answer differently?” “Why wasn’t I just one mark ahead?” “Why does this keep happening to me?” These questions haunt you. But amid that spiral, you start understanding life beyond medals.

Yes, I didn’t get the gold, but I gained something else—resilience. I gained the strength to digest pain without bitterness. I learned the art of holding on to grace when your dreams don’t pan out. I realized success is not always about being the best, but being your best in spite of the outcome.

I will continue walking, not because I didn’t fall, but because I chose to rise every time I did. Toppers will be remembered, yes. But stories like ours—of grit, grace, and quiet perseverance—will echo in places medals can never reach.

So, if you're reading this and you've ever lost by a whisker, let me tell you this: You are not a failure. You are not forgotten. You are forged by fire. And maybe, just maybe, life is preparing you for something bigger than what you wished for.

Something big is coming...Believe in your patience and prayers and trust god's plan.

Thank you.

Sugyan Nanda 

 (An Aspirant)