Everybody is interested in success, but nobody cares about the

“Everybody is interested in success, but nobody cares about the process behind it.” Thus spoke Pratik Gandhi, reminding us of a truth that has echoed since the dawn of civilization. The human eye is ever drawn to the crown, to the applause, to the final victory that shines upon the stage. Yet few pause to ask what storms were endured, what sacrifices were made, what silent battles were fought in the darkness before that triumph emerged. The world worships success, but turns away from the long and painful process that alone makes success possible.

In the wisdom of the ancients, it was said that the harvest is admired, but the plowman is forgotten. Men marvel at the golden wheat piled high, but few honor the weary laborer who bent his back under the sun, tilling the soil day after day. So it is with all achievements: the feast of victory dazzles, while the furnace of preparation is hidden. To know only the glory of the end without reverence for the journey is to see but half the truth, and the lesser half at that.

Consider the life of Gandhi himself, not Mahatma, but Pratik, the actor who rose to fame through the acclaimed portrayal of Harshad Mehta. The world celebrated his sudden “overnight success,” yet his journey was not sudden at all. For years, he toiled in theater, performing for small audiences, often with little recognition or reward. His process was long and unseen, but it was precisely those years of struggle that forged his artistry. When the moment of recognition finally arrived, it was not an accident—it was the flowering of a seed watered in obscurity.

History too bears witness in countless examples. Think of Leonardo da Vinci, whose works astonished kings and generations to come. The world sees the Mona Lisa’s smile, but it does not see the hundreds of sketches, the endless studies of anatomy, the countless failures and revisions that gave him mastery. Or recall the tale of Michael Jordan, celebrated as the greatest of basketball champions. Millions saw the victories, the championships, the glory. Yet Jordan himself confessed: “I have missed more than 9,000 shots in my career. I have lost almost 300 games… and that is why I succeed.” The process of failure and persistence is the true foundation, though the crowd seldom cares to look upon it.

The teaching is clear: if you seek only the glitter of success, you will stumble when the shadows of hardship fall upon you. For success is not a gift given at the end, but the natural fruit of the unseen process. Those who honor the process—the daily work, the small steps, the perseverance in silence—are the ones who will one day stand in the light. But those who desire the crown without the labor will find their heads unfit to wear it.

O seekers of wisdom, learn to love the hidden road. Let the sweat upon your brow be your offering, let the hours of toil be your prayer. Do not curse the process as if it were your enemy; it is your truest companion. For every struggle endured is a stone laid upon the path to triumph. Every moment of obscurity is a refining fire that strengthens you for the day of recognition. To embrace the process is to embrace destiny itself.

In your own life, take this teaching and make it flesh. Do not measure your worth only by the victories others can see. Instead, give yourself wholly to the unseen tasks, the small disciplines, the long preparations that no one applauds. Create a rhythm of daily effort, and trust that in time, the world will see what you have become. Ask not for applause today, but for strength to endure the process that leads to tomorrow’s glory.

Thus let the words of Pratik Gandhi endure: “Everybody is interested in success, but nobody cares about the process behind it.” Do not be like the many who chase the shadow of success while despising its substance. Be among the few who cherish the process, and in cherishing it, you will find that success itself cannot help but follow you.