Play to Win

Play to win.

For me, this is a tough phrase. I think it is a cultural
thing, because I end up feeling that winning is for others. Like stiletto shoes or platform heels. I never learnt how to balance in them. Others could rock the look, while I was
destined to remain the short girl in sports shoes, laces undone.

What was worse was that I didn’t feel pretty in those shoes. It was hard to feel confident and sassy when one is on the brink of falling flat on one’s face. Sports shoes are good, the lace less ones even better. That did not mean I did not wear stilettos or platforms. I did, I even learnt to balance for short periods of time, though my feet felt like they’d undergone torture. Why did I do that to myself? Because even though they were excruciatingly painful, other girls wore stilettos and I wanted to fit in.

I can’t speak for men, but as a
female the whole ‘play to win’ thing was almost always discouraged when I was
growing up.

Not that I didn’t try only to have some authority figure intervene with “Let the younger kids win this time.”

8 Year Old Me :

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School wasn’t much better. I was reading Hemingway that I had swiped from my father’s bookshelf, along with a Harold Robbins. The parents caught me with Hemingway and were quite proud of me. The younger brother caught me with Harold Robbins and embarked on a lucrative career in blackmail young. In third grade.

One time, I worked my entire English workbook
during the holidays before we entered Class V.
I was punished for it and forced to buy a fresh workbook and work in it
with the class.

B o r I n g

I also learned to not turn in my
tests when I finished them. Teachers did
not appreciate that.

Stop showing off Ritu, they said.

Me : But I am not showing off. I’ve finished. Can I go out?

Teacher : You’re making other kids
feel bad!

Me :Eh?

You know why school shootings do not
happen in India? Because it’s so hard to get a gun, even a half way decent
katta!

School taught me to hide any academic
excellence. If I wanted to learn at the speed I craved, I had to work around
the system. Learn on my time, not school time. Makes total sense.

And I did. There wasn’t much else to
do. Being a complete nerd, I was
socially awkward (and not much has changed). I never understood the nuanced
ways of girl tribes, only that they generally required an outcast/scapegoat
(usually me).

I was used to that, being the resident
scapegoat for my brothers when they recalled the lone sister. Oh, I could show them my ambition. They loved it. If I won in the rough and tumble games, they
simply pounded me to pulp.

Its an odd message society dishes out
to us, isn’t it?

Playing to win is for others. If you
play to win, expect to pay a price.

Be nice. Be sweet. Share. Winning is
not nice to others.

‘Nice’

Puke

Nice is like souffle gone flat, soggy
biscuit and overboiled oatmeal.

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Forget nice.

Turn off the internal program. I’m trying to do it now. I’ve realised that

Playing to WIN is good

I won’t let anyone tell me otherwise.

Let the games begin and