IF

There is a poem that I read every night before I slept for three years while I was in NDA Khadakvasla (1966-69). It was framed and kept besides each bed of all cadets in NDA. With such frequent reading before I slept, the poem was bound to have an immense affect on my subconscious mind and my psyche. Though it was written a 140 years ago, it still has a profound significance to a youthful mind, ‘What is it that I want to be when I am grown up ?’ The poem helps to irrigate the mind so that it is fertile and productive.

This poem may come handy to you, I would like you to please read it as often as you can.

Cyclic

If

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

...................Rudyard Kipling