Back in college days, while trekking through Himachal — we came across a beautiful stream. The 4 of us took off our clothes and started doing what teenagers will do…no, not that silly…getting wet down to our bones. After about 45 minutes when everyone’s teeth were chattering like crickets due to the cold water — we came out and got busy drying ourselves.
For some inexplicable reasons, the stream invited me one more time. I entered the stream again & slipped face first on the algae covered slippery stones. My nose bled like a juicy mango & turned the stream around me red. The horrified boys put hanky on my bleeding nose and rushed me to a doctor.
As I was young and had enough muscle strength, as I fell my arms broke down the impact of the fall substantially. The wound didn’t require more than a few stitches.
After a few hours, my nose had swollen up like a balloon. And by that time everyone had recovered from the shock. So the way back home was painful (a) from the injury (b) from my friends’ taunts.
“Why the hell you would enter it again man?” the teenagers kept laughing their asses off.
To be honest, to this day, I don’t know why.
That scar on the nose accompanied me for years. And because it was prominent — I have told different versions of this tale many times.
In one of the tales, I am a mafia guy ..in another I am attacked by mafia …in another I am heading a mafia …in another I am a mafia moll… depending on what kind of impact I wanted to have in a particular setting. One while appearing for an interview, one while talking to a prospective father in law, another while lecturing a class of rowdy kids, etc etc.
To a high probability, leading a carefully thought about life does guarantee success but doesn’t guarantee exciting tales to tell to your audience.