The day was so hectic—back-to-back lectures, webinars, freelance work, and a never-ending to-do list. Before wrapping up, I grabbed my phone to clear all the unread notifications one by one. That’s when I saw Banerji’s message.

Banerji, an overthinking potato friend of mine, had spent valuable time analyzing the reply I left on his status hours ago. Naturally, he came back for clarification—oh, this brat! What started as a random debate quickly escalated into a full-fledged WhatsApp sticker war that lasted exactly 23 minutes.

The only rule? No repeating stickers—neither yours nor your opponent’s.

One by one, my sticker collection shrank until I had only one left. Just as I was about to run out, Banerji made a mistake—he sent a sticker I had already used. And that’s how I won! Hurreyy! 

I know, I know—it sounds ridiculously cringey. But hey, if something makes me laugh, why should it have to make sense to anybody else?

As long as it doesn’t hurt or affect anyone negatively, all the weird cringes are totally worth the hype.
— Happaholic

But This Blog Isn’t About Cringe… (That topic reserved for another day.)

Right after my victory, Banerji asked for a re-match. But I refused—not because my Vadivelu sticker stock was empty, but because I suddenly remembered something.

On my first job, I had a senior. We had a habit of playing Ludo during breaks. Even after we shifted to WFH, we sometimes played online.

Here’s the thing: I never won. Not once. My senior was way too skilled. You might wonder—”Is Ludo even a game of skill?” I get it. But let me explain.

Ludo is essentially a survival game. Sounds dramatic? Let me break it down.

You have four pieces that need to reach the final mark ASAP. The journey isn’t just about moving forward—it’s also about protecting your pieces while cutting down others who cross your path.

But I always believed in this one principle:

“Real victory is working on yourself, not bringing others down.”
— Sivakarthikeyan

I stuck to this principle even in a game, which, in hindsight, was pretty foolish. Because while I was focused on just surviving, my senior was focused on winning. I played it safe—taking baby steps, avoiding risks.

And that’s exactly why I never won.

To win, you need to take big steps and make brave moves.

(#that yellow is mine and red is senior’s.. Visual representation of how bad i lost to him)

After every match, I asked for a re-match. Every single time. And every single time, my senior refused.

“If I give you another chance every time, you will never value winning.”

“You have the potential to win. You know the strategies better than me. If you let go of unnecessary principles, you’ll get where you belong. That’s all.”

It wasn’t about Ludo.

One day, I finally won. And that was the last time we ever played. My senior had already taught me enough lessons.

The Takeaways?

• Competition isn’t an attack.
• Don’t take everything to heart—use your brain.
• Surviving is not the same as winning.

So next time you’re in a game—whether it’s Ludo or life—remember: it’s okay to play smart, but don’t forget to play bold.