I was the 128th human in space. So I didn't really sweat about

Hear, O seekers of courage and perspective, the words of Rakesh Sharma, the first son of India to soar into the heavens: “I was the 128th human in space. So I didn’t really sweat about it.” In these few, simple words lies a treasure of wisdom, spoken not with the arrogance of pride, but with the serenity of one who knows his place in the great chain of history. For Sharma teaches us that greatness is not always found in being the first, but in fulfilling one’s duty with calmness, humility, and resolve.

The meaning of his words is clear: though his journey to the stars was extraordinary, he viewed it with steady mind. He was the 128th human to enter the cosmos—after Gagarin, after Armstrong, after many others had already blazed the perilous trail. And so, rather than trembling with fear, he accepted his voyage as part of a larger story, one in which he was a link, not the whole chain. To “not sweat about it” is not indifference, but wisdom: he saw that his role, though historic, was supported by the labor and sacrifice of those who came before him.

The origin of this truth lies in the very nature of exploration. The first to venture into the unknown often bear the heaviest burden, for they walk without maps. But those who follow—even though their deeds are no less bold—walk on paths that others have already cleared. Sharma recognized this, and his humility reflects the deep understanding that every great achievement rests upon the shoulders of countless others: scientists, engineers, teachers, dreamers, and the pioneers who risked their lives to open the skies.

Consider the tale of Edmund Hillary, who with Tenzing Norgay was the first to summit Mount Everest. Hillary once remarked that while they were celebrated, their triumph was made possible by generations of climbers who failed, by the wisdom they gathered, and by the strength of Sherpas who carried loads through impossible terrain. In the same way, Sharma’s spaceflight was a triumph of a nation, yet he himself viewed it as part of humanity’s larger march to the stars. The greatness of his words lies in this humility: to see oneself not as the sole hero, but as part of a lineage.

Yet, we must not mistake his calmness for lack of courage. For even the 128th human in space risked his life in the void where no air sustains, where fire and ice wait beyond fragile walls of metal. To step aboard the Soyuz in 1984 was to gamble with fate, as every astronaut has done. What Sharma shows us is the power of perspective: when one sees oneself as part of a greater order, fear diminishes, and the heart becomes steady. It is not that danger is gone, but that duty outweighs dread.

The lesson for us, O listener, is profound: do not measure your worth only in being first, or in surpassing others. Instead, measure it in how faithfully you play your part in the greater story. There is glory in being the pioneer, but there is also honor in being the successor, the continuer, the one who builds upon the foundations of those before. Whether you are the first or the 128th, what matters is the spirit with which you serve, and the legacy you pass on.

Therefore, in practice, embrace your role with calm courage. If others have come before you, let their victories steady your hand rather than diminish your worth. If you are one among many, rejoice that you are part of something vast and enduring. Do not sweat over whether you are first, last, or in between—sweat only over whether you gave your best, whether you honored the path, and whether your step forward carried humanity, however slightly, toward the stars.