The Boy Who Was Supposed to Fail
bySantosh Nagasamy
Last evening, I reconnected with a friend I hadn’t seen in nearly 24 years. We were schoolmates once — and in many ways, strangers for the last two decades. As we caught up, sharing stories of life, career, family, and the meandering roads we had taken, I was struck by how easy it was to slip into the old familiarity.
You can make new friends at any age, but you can never make new old friends.
Toward the end of the evening, he asked me a question — simple, honest, and piercing in its clarity:
"What happened to you, Santosh? In school, you weren’t really interested in anything... how did you become the person you are today?"
He wasn’t being critical. He was being curious. And truthfully, I’ve asked myself the same question many times.
Growing Up Misunderstood
I studied in one of the top schools in my state, known for its academic excellence. For many students, it was a springboard to great achievements. For a few of us — the dreamers, the wanderers, the misfits — it was something else entirely.
I was the boy who could spend hours staring at a single word in a textbook, lost in imaginary worlds, building stories and composing poems in my mind. The structure of school life had no room for that.
Teachers saw me as unfocused, disruptive, "not serious." I was told more than once that I would be the first student to fail and bring down the school's reputation.
I didn’t fail. But I didn’t exactly belong either.
A Series of Small, Powerful Shifts
The first real shift came when I changed schools after my 10th grade — following a good friend to Bishop Cotton Boys' School. There, for the first time, the system didn’t just tolerate my interests — it nurtured them.
I started playing volleyball seriously — and something remarkable happened. Imagine a school hiring a dedicated coach, and building a brand-new volleyball court, just because one boy wanted to play. No one else even played volleyball at the time.
They didn’t wait for success to invest in me. They created an environment where confidence could grow — long before results showed up.
It was the first time I truly felt seen for who I was — and it changed everything.
In engineering college, I found friends who taught me how to balance fun and focus. I formed a rock band — The Afterlife — and discovered the thrill of writing songs, performing live, and creating something real with others.
Later, a casual invitation to a dance class — where I was sure I had two left feet — opened a new door. Dance became a lifelong love. I even spent a few years as a part-time dance instructor.
For the first time, I found a way to channel my energy, creativity, and imagination into something tangible — something that others could experience and connect with. It wasn’t just about learning new skills. It was about discovering new ways to engage with the world.
Each of these accidents wasn’t truly accidental. Each was a step back to myself.
Finding My True Path: Martial Arts
The most profound transformation, though, came through martial arts.
I met my teacher — a mentor and guide — who didn’t just teach me techniques, but helped me forge the discipline, resilience, and stillness I had been searching for. Through kickboxing, MMA, jujutsu, judo, and now traditional Japanese martial arts, I found a deeper kind of freedom.
Twenty years later, I’m still training. Still learning. Still uncovering parts of myself that school never saw — and could never have measured.
From the Boy Who Couldn't Finish Homework...
...to a TEDx speaker. ...to leading a company that's building real solutions for a sustainable world. ...to standing in rooms I once couldn't have imagined belonging to.
Sometimes I look back and wonder how it all happened. It wasn’t a single breakthrough or a sudden transformation. It was thousands of quiet moments — choices, stumbles, recoveries — slowly building into a life I could never have scripted at the start.
And yet, even with all of that, the journey is far from over. In fact, it is just beginning.
The Journey Continues
When I look back, it wasn’t one breakthrough moment. It was a series of moments — some tiny, some seismic — stitched together by mentors, friends, community, and an internal refusal to give up on becoming more.
And truthfully, I’m nowhere near finished. I'm still growing. Still discovering who I am. Still learning to live with greater depth, discipline, and wonder.
But when I wake up each morning, I’m deeply grateful — Grateful for the journey so far, for the battles fought and the blessings earned, and most of all, for the person I am becoming.
So when my friend asked, "What happened to you, Santosh?" I smiled. And I told him the truth:
"I got very lucky. A series of happy accidents."
The reality is, I don't fully know. Maybe it was a more nurturing environment. Maybe it was meeting the right people — mentors, coaches, friends. Maybe it was discovering passions that gave me a reason to grow.
Honestly, I don't know. And maybe that's the real crux of it.
We don't always have to know the full path. We just have to take one honest step after another. And on this round, spinning earth, each step somehow leads you closer to yourself.
If you’re reading this today and feeling "out of place" — in school, in your career, in life — remember: You are not finished. The person you are now is just the beginning of who you can become.
#Leadership #Transformation #GrowthMindset #Sustainability #PersonalJourney