“Oh you must be Kabeer and Arjun’s brother.” A sentence I have heard so many times, it sometimes gets exhausting.
Siblings. The people who you fight with the most, but somehow love the most. Growing up with two older siblings, Kabeer Singh 18’ and Arjun Singh 18’, I quickly became interested in everything they did.
Whether it was video games, sports or random hobbies, I yearned to learn from them and aspired to become just like them.
As I started to grow up however, I didn’t just want to become them, I wanted to be better than them. Even though my brothers are seven years older than me, I would throw a tantrum every time I lost to them in a video game or sports game. This fostered a sense of competitiveness within me, a desire to never be second place regardless of whether the competition was older, more experienced or more athletic.
When I first came to St. Mark’s as a fifth grader, I finally got to share the Marksmen experience with my brothers. Reflecting on it, almost every single teacher I had that year managed to bring up my brothers.
Regarding academics, my teachers would frequently bring up my brother Kabeer and his accomplishments in a wide range of fields, such as being Chair of the STEM Festival and Chair of the Community Service Board.
Regarding athletics, my coaches would always mention Arjun’s lightning-fast speed on the track as well as his ability to glide by defenders with ease on the soccer pitch.
Although these comments were made with good intentions, I suddenly felt the pressure to follow in their footsteps and solidify their legacy.
In hindsight, I failed to see that succeeding on campus meant building my own legacy, not fusing my legacy with that of my brothers.
This sudden realization truly hit me during freshman year soccer tryouts. Perhaps the single greatest thing my brothers accomplished together was that they both made Varsity soccer their freshman year.
Going into my tryouts, the pressure I felt to make the varsity roster felt like it was strangling me. My touch was off. My passes were heavy. My shots were weak. I couldn’t shake the thought of being the only one of my brothers to not make varsity freshman year. As a result, I performed poorly in my tryouts, and in the end, I made the JV roster.
It was in that moment that I realized achieving greatness does not lay in your ability to become those who paved the roads before you, but rather in your ability to learn from what they did to pave your own road.
