An ideology of success seems to have become terribly powerful in our times. It equates life with ceaseless achievement - achievement of concrete/tangible markers of success like wealth, status, politico-administrative power, glamour, visibility and official recognition through a network of awards and prizes. It condemns failure and separates the ‘successful’ ones from those who have ‘failed’ in life. An ideology of this kind is being sustained by solid socio-economic forces: expansionist capitalist market, proliferation of the new middle class and immensely seductive consumptionist culture. It is being propagated through diverse sources. Take, for instance, school as a site of socialization. Its competitive and exam-centric pedagogy tells the child that success has a standardized language that can be quantified and measured, and it manifests itself only in select lucrative careers. Or, look at the all-pervasive media culture. Television spectacles, commercial ads, gossip columns and celebrity lifestyles - everything mytholigizes success and privileges the centrality of desire as an ingredient of ‘good’ life. Yes, this ideology has become hegemonic and it is becoming increasingly difficult to overcome the societal pressure. The result is almost neurotic restlessness. Success demands more success. And to fail is to get condemned and stigmatized. This is indeed an unhappy world.

Is it possible to come out of this vicious circle and experience the world through an altogether different paradigm? The other day, and it happened to be Mahatma Gandhi's birthday, I participated in an informal and hence non-pretentious discussion that invited university students and parents of school children to reflect on success and failure. I noticed an acute sense of awareness, an urge to interrogate the social construction of success and willingness to have an alternative notion of life, even if it meant ambiguities and contradictions.

Inner satisfaction

For example, many participants repeatedly asserted the importance of inner satisfaction coming out of deep engagement with one’s vocation. This satisfaction, they argued, could enable one to live meaningfully, even if one is not declared ‘successful’. Without this inner calling, a participant felt with immense sensitivity, success would remain illusory; merely a colorful packaging without much depth and substance.

Yes, one does not live in isolation. One needs reciprocity and acknowledgement. A singer would strive for a music lover; a poet would be delighted at finding a reader with literary imagination and a teacher would like his students to reciprocate. Without this organic bond, life would be dull and boring. Because, in order to be inspired, one also needs a societal base or a support system from the community. But this natural inclination to a culture of reciprocity is qualitatively different from what is being known as official recognition through awards and prizes. Gandhi, to take a striking illustration, did not get the Nobel Peace Prize; instead, he was killed by a fanatic. Did Gandhi fail? No. As some of the participants felt, no official recognition could surpass the love and affection that Gandhi got from ordinary people. In fact, it was not just about a known personality like Gandhi. There are ordinary mortals like us working in silence (without glamour, visibility and official recognition) in diverse domains of life and gaining immense satisfaction.

What was further illuminating was that failure itself was being seen as a new beginning. Life begins to reveal itself at the moment of pain and suffering, not necessarily at the moment of success and glory. For example, it was in jail that Nehru wrote his Discovery of India, and Gramsci his Prison Notebooks; the humiliation that a tormented Mohandas felt during a railway journey in South Africa aroused his potential, the courage to fight apartheid. Paradoxically, as a participant observed, there are moments when one realizes that success is failure and failure is success!

A question, however, began to haunt me: Was this discussion merely utopian, something that could be articulated only in a safe/insulated gathering, but not in a public place? Or, for that matter, would it be possible for us to motivate our children and make them appreciate what we are talking about? Yes, children are vulnerable. They are watching television, reading newspapers, and seeing that, in our times, money matters, glamour counts, education is less about moral upliftment but more about material success, and IITs/IIMs are sites of ultimate salvation. Is it then possible to make a difference in their perception?

Fighting battles

Sermonizing is no answer. Nor is it desirable to impose our own ideals on them. After all, children have to see the world through their own eyes; it is for them to realize what is enduring and what is fleeting. This, however, does not mean that as parents we are just passive spectators. We can indeed act like catalysts - not through authoritarianism but through the message that life radiates. We have to fight our battles everyday. This means the courage to differ, the willingness to experiment and the inspiration to find the meaning of existence in inner satisfaction, not in externalities. Life is a struggle for translating today’s Utopias into tomorrow’s realities. And, as a participant observed, this struggle, although exceedingly difficult, has its moments of joy and excitement.