Somewhere along the way, I started believing that it was uncool to work hard, to study and to struggle. It was cool to take it easy, sit back and let things come to you. Working hard was for people who had more determination than brains. I thought I was so smart I didn't need to work hard at all.

I started believing so, because I kept getting away with it. Each time I got away with it, my belief strengthened, reinforced by my latest success.

The last time I struggled with anything that threatened with significantly dire consequences was in Engineering college. At Hexaware, I didn't work. At the magazines, it does not classify as work.

And the two years at IIMK were almost ludicrously laughable. I'd get away with the craziest things. I'd get away with not studying for tests and exams, and talking my way through them. I'd get away with going into presentations unprepared, and sleepwalking through them with some smooth talking and some common sense.

Coming from a decent management institute where students choose companies rather than the other way round, I had started to believe that I was the centre of the world, and that everything happening around me was happening for me.

Somewhere along the way, I began taking success for granted, and not welcoming it with any kind of respect when it actually did come around. "Could there be any other way?"

And somewhere along the way, I forgot how to handle failure. My sense of determination went for a hike. My ability to struggle went into eternal dormancy. My work ethic went to dust. And I turned into a lofty, complacent airhead with a thoroughly skewed idea about myself and the world around me.

It's good to be getting back on terrafirma. Slowly, but surely.