I tortured myself with the Govinda-Salman starrer Partner this Saturday. Govinda is wasted and Salman can’t act even if someone held a gun to his head. Feeling violated, I walked weakly out of the theatre in Andheri. The one who took us there denied it was his idea.

I considered settling down at a coffee shop or something with my copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows but my phone rings and my evening plans are set. I took my leave from one disillusioned group of friends to join another, somewhere in Bandra.

If I had to count the number of times I have succeeded in my life, I would… well… fail. It continues to happen, several times a day, all week, all year. Nobody hears of these successes because conventional wisdom has a limited understanding of what success really is.

Commercialised and glitz-driven as our world is, it does not overrate success. Instead, it seriously underrates it. The thousand little smiles you earn by doing something you love or by making a tiny little difference in a friend’s or stranger’s life don’t count as successes, but a paycheck does.

Ever been called to lunch and refused it or postponed it because you had a late breakfast and were not hungry? Ever seen people cajoled into a marriage, even if they were not ready, because it was time for them? In short, have you ever, when told it was time, felt otherwise?

Some people choose the evening snack over the lunch. Many choose to remain unmarried if they realise they can’t do justice to the bond. What do you think separates these people, however moderately, from the great majority who live by the book?