The people we forget on the way up

What is life trying to tell you? Who helped you rise, and have you forgotten them along the way?

Neelim Akash Kashyap

GLIMPSE 1

Anuranan paints, and there is something beautiful about the way his colours speak. He wanted his brush to express emotions that words often fail to carry. He had dreams and ability, but lacked an opportunity.

Then Apsara entered his life. An established artist herself, she saw something in Anuranan before the world did. She encouraged him when his path was uncertain and believed in him when recognition was still far away. Her faith helped him take the first steps towards his dream.

Slowly, doors opened, people noticed his work, and his paintings found an audience. With time, Anuranan became a recognised painter.

But somewhere along the way, something else quietly disappeared: Apsara, the person who had once encouraged him to believe in himself, gradually became a name buried beneath the noise of his success. Today, Anuranan is busy with his work and recognition. He barely finds time to ask Apsara a question: “How are you?” Perhaps she only needed to know that she was not forgotten.

Sometimes, the saddest part of helping someone rise is watching them reach the top and realise they have forgotten who stood beside them.

GLIMPSE 2

“Brother, are you asleep?”

“I was just about to.”

“Some people have been leaving really negative comments about my new song. I sent you the lyrics. Could you please write something in support? It would really help. I’m asking you as a younger brother.”

“Of course, I will.”

“Thank you, brother.”

Years passed. The struggle ended, recognition arrived, and the singer became popular. His songs travelled far, while his difficult past faded from memory.

Then, one day, the person who had once stayed awake to listen to his worries called again. This time, the response was different: “Who is this?” The caller introduced himself and mentioned his name. There was a brief silence before the reply came: “Sorry, I don’t recognise you.”

Sometimes, people do not leave with an argument or goodbye. They simply rise to a place where remembering us no longer seems necessary. Perhaps that hurts more than anger, because while one person carries the memory of a relationship, the other may have already put it down.

GLIMPSE 3

Ayushi had always carried a quiet desire to do something meaningful with her life. She had thoughts, dreams and words waiting for a voice. But desire alone is often not enough. Sometimes, a person simply needs someone to say, “You can.”

Then Ayushi met a writer who noticed a possibility within her that she had not fully recognised. The writer encouraged her to write, trust her thoughts and stop doubting her voice. One day, Ayushi picked up a pen. Words became pages, and pages became a journey. Slowly, she developed her own voice and identity.

The writer’s encouragement never stopped—not because anything was expected in return, but because seeing another person discover her strength was enough. Then someone close to Ayushi mentioned the writer’s role and said, “You wrote for so long because of that person’s encouragement. What more do you need them for now?”

The words may have been casual, but they reveal a troubling mindset: as though a person’s worth begins when they are useful and ends when they are not, and gratitude has an expiry date. As though those who helped us discover our wings become unnecessary when we learn to fly.

Learning to fly does not erase the person who first convinced us that we had wings.

GLIMPSE 4

Rajat stood beside the road and raised his hand. Ranjan stopped the bike.

“Are you going that way?” Rajat asked.

Ranjan smiled. “Get on.”

When they arrived at Rajat’s destination, he got down.

He didn’t say thank you or offer a grateful smile. He simply walked away. Perhaps, to Rajat, it was only a ride. But to Ranjan, the silence left a simple question: how difficult is it to acknowledge kindness?

A smile could have been enough. Gratitude costs nothing, yet we often forget to give it.

WHAT IS LIFE TRYING TO TELL US?

“Use and throw” is not merely a phrase. It is a way of looking at people—and perhaps that is what makes it dangerous.

Around us, this mindset appears in countless forms. People seek someone when they are lost or need support, a door opened, a problem solved, a word written or a hand extended. But once the need disappears, sometimes, so does the relationship. Calls become fewer, messages shorter and warmth turns into formality. Eventually, even a simple “How are you?” can feel like too much effort.

Sometimes this happens deliberately; sometimes people do not realise they have begun treating relationships like transactions: as long as you are useful, you are valuable; when you are no longer needed, you become forgettable.

But people are not tools, stepping stones or ladders to be used and discarded. Every person who sincerely helps us leaves something behind—a word of courage, a helping hand, a belief when ours was fading, a direction when we were lost, or simply a presence that reminded us we were not alone. Life moves forward. People change. Paths separate. Not everyone who begins a journey with us will remain forever. But there is a difference between moving forward and forgetting, between growing and becoming ungrateful, between creating distance and erasing those who once mattered.

Success changes our surroundings and introduces new opportunities and people. But it should never erase those who stood beside us when there was no recognition or applause—only a dream and a few believers.

That is why gratitude matters. Not because we owe people our lives or must remain dependent on them. Growth does not require every relationship to remain unchanged. Gratitude simply means remembering who stood beside us when standing alone was difficult and who believed in us before the world applauded.

So, before asking, “What more do I need them for now?” pause and look back. Who answered when we called? Who encouraged us when we doubted ourselves? Who believed in us when our dream was still only a possibility?

Remember them. Call them. Ask them how they are.

Gratitude does not make us smaller; it makes our success more meaningful. We do not have to remain dependent on those who helped us. We simply need to remember that our journey was never made entirely by us. Somewhere, someone gave us courage, time or an opportunity.

Success may tell the world how far we have travelled, but gratitude reveals whether we remember the road behind us.

Perhaps that is what life is trying to tell us: never turn people into stepping stones. We may rise higher by using others, but there comes a moment when success falls silent, the applause fades, and we are left with the truth of how we treated the people who helped us get there.

The real measure of how far we have come is whether, on the way up, we remembered the hands that helped us rise.

(Neelim Akash Kashyap is a novelist of English and Assamese literature. You can reach him at neelimassam@gmail.com.)