bhaskar saikia

Failure is never lonely.

When you fail, people arrive easily—some with sympathy carefully folded into words, others with concern that sounds sincere, and a few with quiet smiles they try not to show. Failure invites commentary. It gives everyone a role: the comforter, the advisor, the silent judge. Many come to lament your fall, but some come for another reason altogether—to draw a strange satisfaction from seeing you stumble.

It is a difficult truth to accept, but failure often becomes a public event. It allows others to feel wiser, steadier, safer in comparison. Your broken moment becomes a mirror in which they reassure themselves.

Success, however, is different.

Success is quiet in an unexpected way. When you succeed, the crowd thins. The noise fades. Suddenly, not everyone has time, words, or warmth. The ones who thrived on your vulnerability step back, careful not to reveal their envy. The false lovers disappear—not out of respect, but to protect themselves from the discomfort your growth causes them.

And then you notice something profound.

Those who remain are few.

They do not arrive to analyse your journey or measure their own worth against yours. They come simply to cherish. They celebrate without competition. They smile without calculation. Your success does not threaten them; it enlarges them. These are the people who love you—not because you fell, and not because you rose, but because you are you.

This is why it is worth remembering who stood with you in your success.

Not because failure didn’t matter—it did. Failure taught you resilience, humility, and silence. But success reveals something else: truth. It strips relationships of performance and exposes intent. It shows you who can be happy for you, not merely present around you.

So remember them.

Remember the ones who clapped without needing to be seen. Remember the ones who spoke your name gently when things went right. Remember the ones whose absence during your success told you more than their presence during your failure ever could.

Because in the end, failure teaches you how to survive. But success teaches you who truly loves you.