How has a failure, or apparent failure, set you up for later success?

This is the story of a failure that reshaped who I am. To tell it, I need to take you back decadesto a time when I was young, ambitious, and unprepared for the blow that awaited me.

I had cleared the officer-level exams for the Indian Army, a grueling test of intellect and determination. The next step was the interview, and I walked in with the quiet confidence of someone who’d already tasted victory. But I failed. Miserably. It wasn’t just a setbackit was a shockwave. I hadn’t seen it coming, and for days, I wandered in a haze, replaying the moment without understanding what had gone wrong.

Then something shifted. My inner resolve woke up and took the reins. I stopped sulking and started dissecting. I retraced every step of the processevery question, every glance, every second I’d spent in that room. I analyzed it with brutal honesty, rethinking my approach down to the smallest detail. Armed with this clarity, I prepared for my second attempt. No mentors, no guidesjust me, my failure, and a stubborn will to turn it around.

The result? I cleared the interview on my second try. That triumph wasn’t luck; it was the fruit of meticulous, self-driven effort.

Over the years, this habit of planning down to the tiniest detail has woven itself into my DNA. It drives the people around me crazy sometimesuntil things fall perfectly into place. Then they smirk, shrug, and quietly admit it works.

Failure, I’ve learned, isn’t the endit’s the first step toward success. It’s a harsh teacher, but an honest one. Trust in yourself, dig deep, and you’ll never look back with regret. That’s the lesson my failures drilled into me, and it’s carried me further than I ever imagined.