Talent.

A dumb friend once told me that; talent will always beat skill. Little did he know that skill is what talent becomes once it is hammered in the forge of hard work, determination, and persistence. As for me, I would like to believe that I have some innate talents. But do I really?

The success of others often eclipses our own self-confidence, be it from a story, word of mouth, the papers, a relative, or a friend. It dampens the spirit. Or worst, failure, it kills everything. When I see someone my age doing something extraordinary, I get that heart wrenching feeling, as if something or someone was squeezing my heart. Envy. Envy for success, especially for one such as myself who has nothing to show but mediocrity.

Hears a good one. Writing. From primary school I always felt comfortable writing and there is not a single year in my finals, where I did not ace my English. Never have I gotten a B. But, i didn't think much of this because considering that I lived in Malaysia I've always felt the standards of English in my country was low. If I were to have lived in the United Kingdom my English score may have been drastically different. But, it still made me pretty damn confident about myself.

During my SPM year, the final year of high-school. I sat for a little test called English Literature. I took it as an extra subject and through my arrogance I was cock sure that my minimum score would be a B, nothing less. A few months later, I get the shock of my academic life; English Lit: C. And that simple C in its bold letters had a whisper and it said,"You, are not capable. You have failed."

I was pissed and angry. Two years of taking this God forsaken subject and I'm rewarded with this? What was wrong? And to add salt to the wound, my friend whom himself took the same subject and went for the same class got a B. And that's not the sweet part, he did not, I repeat: Did FUCKING not answer (if my memory serves me right) two questions. I answered everything. I did the test without sickness, strain of mind, or stress. And yet a C? All that praise from friends and my dear teacher, all that work, all those pass year papers, told me otherwise. Was it all an illusion? Did I trick myself into this ill gained confidence? It was a wake up call. I questioned my ability and talent (if there was any). Every comforting word I ignored.

After the anger. Came, regret. I should have worked harder, I should have written more, I should have read more, I should have done something! English was always my forte (other than math), the fortress has been burned and pillaged what remained was nothing but ash. I decided to start a journal, and for the first time; I wanted to write. There was no homework, no test, and without the pressure of exams, I just wanted to write. It felt liberating. In the end, having talent or no talent didn't matter. I had passion. That passion settled once I started college almost immediately after my exams. One and a half year later, I'm back.

In the end, my definition of skill is simple: Something you wanted to do that you developed by yourself, with your own initiative, with the passion and will to shout out, "Talent or no talent, I will be good at this."

I wrote this, just to get it off my chest. And till this day, I have not forgotten the failure of that test. It still haunts me. So when I write, I don't think highly of my work. I eat criticism and swallow it. With the sole purpose to improve. Maybe failure was the right medicine for the arrogance that only the illusion of talent can manifest.

Okay, I've digressed way to much here. Skill born with talent is awesome. But, it shouldn't be the deciding factor of what you want to do. Hell what do I know. I'm stumbling in the dark just like everybody else.