“Pick up the pace, Tito! Life is a race!”
The hares especially made it their mission to remind him of the obvious. “Look at us, Tito,” they’d say, whiskers twitching. “It’s speed that gets you places. No one ever won a race by crawling!”
Now, Tito knew the tale of the tortoise and the hare — didn’t everyone? He knew he could win a race his way, by plodding along steadily. But as days passed, that confidence started to wane. Perhaps, he thought, times had changed. Perhaps the only way to win in today’s world was to keep up with the hares, even if it meant going against his nature.
So, one morning, Tito made a choice. “I’m going to be fast,” he declared, puffing himself up in front of his reflection in a still pond. “Fast and fierce.”
He kicked off his training the very next day. First, he tied tiny sticks to his feet in the hopes they’d make him glide. All that did was make him wobble. Then, he tried jumping to cover more ground. It was exhausting and, frankly, embarrassing. And as if the universe itself had sensed his folly, he tripped over a rock, his shell spinning him around like an overturned bowl. Somewhere, a giggle came from behind a bush — surely one of the hares.
Despite the struggles, Tito pushed on. “Just a few more leaps,” he told himself. “I can be fast. I just need to try harder.” But each time he strained and stumbled, each fall and slip-up made him feel less like himself. This wasn’t his race anymore; he was running someone else’s.
At last, bruised and weary, Tito collapsed under a shady tree. He peered up, squinting at the world that had suddenly become so blurry, so unfamiliar. “Is this really winning?” he muttered to no one in particular.
Just then, an old tortoise ambled by, looking at Tito with knowing eyes. “What happened to the wise, steady Tito I used to know?”
“I thought… I thought if I could move faster, I’d finally be seen as a winner,” Tito replied, feeling the weight of his words.
The old tortoise chuckled softly. “A winner? Tito, my friend, you were born to be wise, not to be quick. The world has enough hares already.”
Tito nodded, understanding at last. Winning, he realized, wasn’t about becoming what he wasn’t. It was about embracing what he was. The forest didn’t need another hare. It needed a tortoise who could show others that sometimes, the slow and steady way is just as powerful — if not more so — than the quick dash to the finish.
So, Tito decided he would no longer chase speed. He would return to his steady ways, showing others that there was strength in patience, wisdom in being himself.
And as he plodded home, he felt, for the first time, like he’d truly won.
-- Pradeep K (Prady)
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