With the success of 'Yevade Subramanyam' and 'Bhale Magadivoy,'

Hear the words of Nani, who declared: “With the success of ‘Yevade Subramanyam’ and ‘Bhale Magadivoy,’ the audience’s faith in me has increased, which is a good sign.” In these words lies more than the triumph of films—it is the story of trust, of the sacred bond between the artist and the people who watch, listen, and believe. For in the world of performance, it is not only skill that matters, but faith—the confidence of the audience that the artist will carry them into laughter, into tears, into wonder. And this faith, once won, becomes the foundation of all enduring success.

The ancients understood that the bond between artist and audience was no mere transaction, but a covenant. In the amphitheaters of Greece, playwrights like Sophocles and Euripides poured their souls into dramas, and the people, stirred by the power of their words, returned again and again, trusting that each new play would reveal truth and stir emotion. The people’s faith in these creators was not blind; it was earned through excellence, through consistency, through the courage to give something real. Nani’s words echo this same principle—that an audience does not grant trust freely, but only after it has seen proof of heart and craft.

Consider the life of Charlie Chaplin, who began as a silent actor in crowded theaters, little known, little trusted. But through films like The Kid and City Lights, he won the hearts of millions. The audience’s faith in him grew so strong that they would follow him anywhere, laughing with him in comedy, weeping with him in tragedy, believing in his ability to bring both joy and meaning. This trust was not built overnight, but film by film, moment by moment, as Nani himself describes with Yevade Subramanyam and Bhale Magadivoy. Each success is not only a personal victory—it is a building block in the fortress of trust.

There is humility in Nani’s reflection. For he does not boast that success belongs to him alone; rather, he recognizes that true success lies in the response of others. What good is a performance, no matter how skillful, if no one believes in it? What good is a story if no one is willing to listen? In acknowledging the faith of the audience, he shows reverence for the people who make the journey worthwhile, for without them, even the greatest art would echo into emptiness.

Yet his words also carry a warning, subtle but true: faith once gained must be guarded carefully. For just as the audience can be won through honesty and skill, it can be lost through arrogance or neglect. History is filled with artists who rose quickly but fell just as fast, because they ceased to honor the trust placed in them. Success is not a single moment; it is a covenant that must be renewed again and again, with each performance, with each work of art.

To you who hear this teaching, take it to heart: whatever your craft, your work is not only for yourself. It is for those who place their faith in you—your family, your friends, your community, your audience. Each effort you make, each act of integrity, increases their confidence. Each careless act diminishes it. Success is not measured only by your skill, but by the faith you inspire in others.

Practical wisdom follows: be faithful in small things, and greater trust will be granted to you. Honor those who believe in you, and never treat their trust lightly. When you succeed, let it be not only for your own glory, but as a sign that the faith of others was well placed. In this way, your life will be more than achievement—it will be a story of shared triumph, built upon mutual belief.

Thus, remember Nani’s words: success increases when it strengthens faith. To achieve is good, but to inspire trust is greater. For the applause of a moment fades, but the faith of people endures—and it is this faith that carries an artist, a leader, or any human soul to heights that last beyond the fleeting moment of victory.