I’m watching the live telecast of the academy awards as I type this. Every award ceremony is an elaborate celebration of success. It’s tough being a loser here, isn’t it? You’ve got little time for the loser unless you’re the one who lost it. Think of yourself as a nominee who didn’t ultimately get it. You’re nominated a month before the actual awards night. You start day dreaming and night dreaming about the awards night. Of course, winning in your day dreams and losing in your night dreams. The press suddenly thinks that you must be the best thing to happen in cinema and people think you should run for the president.

Every single person you meet tells you that you’re going to win. Some of them mean it and some of them say it because it’s a nice thing to say. Every gathering and every party you go to, you’re flooded with wishes and there is expectation all around. The countdown to the night is killing to a point where you don’t want to think about the future. Your wife says that you’ll win it. Your kids say that they know you’ll win it. The one thing that matters is winning. That wonderful feeling. You should win not becauce you were the best of the lost that year. You have to win because you don’t want to let anyone down.

Then comes the betting odds. You’re a favourite to win it. There are opinion polls. It’s you all the way. There are expert predictions. You top the list. Golden Globe Awards. You win it. Your odds improve. Your stock goes up to dizzying heights. You start believing that this is truly your year. You prepare for your thank you speech. Make a quick note of who need to be thanked and all that. You even take some help in writing that thank you note. You keep reminding yourself of things to do and things not to do on the night. You know winning or losing is not the end of the world but you know you simply can’t lose. You wonder why should they announce the award in the show? Why can’t they release it to the press the previous day? This show could be so fantastic then.

Then comes the big night. You walk on the red carpet hoping that you’d carry home that statue when you step back again on it. The awards ceremony begins. You are made to wait for your nominated section. The humour of the hosts does not really amuse you because you simply can’t wait. Inside, you’re screaming God! stop the jokes, get on with the awards!!!. There are so many other inconsequential stuff that you should watch through before yours would be introduced. It’s time for your section. The names of the nominees are called out. The sound of your name chills your spine and is greeted with the loudest of crowd cheer. You’re the favourite after all. They’re opening the envelope. You hold your nerves and try to stay balanced. You’re telling yourself to stay cool. Stay cool like you’ve won this a dozen times before.

And the oscar goes to . . . someone else.

You don’t want to believe it. For once you feel you’re not there. No one thinks you’re there except the dear ones near you who read out to you their quick consolation note. The winner is showered with kisses as he stands up to walk. Every single person looks at the stood up man. All eyes on the winner. You feel so fucking disappointed and unexplainably upset. It’s all come to an end. Fuck the odds, opinion polls and experts. This is the reality. You didn’t win it. You’re gonna leave this place the same way you came in, probably worse if not anything. Getting nominated is no mean feat, but when you do get nominated, you don’t want to stop there and it’s no longer a thing that you cherish most. You didn’t win. The disappointment of not winning is a hundred times bigger than the pleasure of being nominated.

You have no interest whatsoever in being there for the rest of the show. You’re trying your best to take it easy but you can’t. The hosts are still being funny with those one-liners. You still don’t appreciate, this time though for a different reason. You make up your mind. You remind yourself to appear gracious at defeat. You’re being watched and tracked. You remind yourself to say nice things about the winner so that you’re not seen as a sore loser. You’re waiting for the show to end. God, why do they have to award even the short animated films? who cares about them?. Show’s over. Dinner’s over. You’ve played the nice guy well enough.

It’s time to get back home. Life as usual. No cameras outside your house. No press coverage. No spotlight. They’re all busy with the winners. After the disappointment, you’re yet to meet all those people from your neighbours to relatives to friends. You need to appear cheerful and nice, and accept their ‘you deserved it better’, ‘hard luck’. You hate when people console you. You scream inside ‘I don’t need your fake words. Just get lost’. I don’t know for how many days but you have to endure that. You’re slowly getting tired of it but that’s the way it works. It would have all been all right if not for the hype which you did not create yourselves. They pulled you up to heights and have dropped you as well.

It’s tough to be a winner, but it’s tougher to be a loser especially if you don’t want to be one. It’s true that defeat teaches you more than victory does. My heart goes out to all those who weren’t nominated and who didn’t win despite their best performances.