My classroom is on the third floor of my school, and reaching up there every morning is a tedious routine, especially as my school mates forsake etiquette for expediency. Apparently, I’m not the only one on the staircase; there’s a troop of bustling students and teachers climbing or descending. One fine morning, a student behind plans to overtake, and signals me for the same. Although I am walking at a normal pace, our friend either finds me slow or is in a hurry to skip the steps. Having passed him, another enthusiast, descends the staircase from the opposite side. Now, everything I describe occurs in a fraction of a second: considering that he is holding the hand-railing unlike me, and that he is descending, he probably assumes that I will move to the left and give him way. On the other hand, I hold on to the thought that I am the one ascending (which requires much more effort) and therefore I deserve my way. At one moment- and this happens frequently – we halt in mid-flight after realizing nobody is going to shift the path. At this point again, both make a flawed decision and shift left and right simultaneously till the third successful time when the path is finally clear.
This occurrence is frustrating, but after enough experience I am now attuned with the mentality of the descending person, and as a result I often give him way. Sometimes, negotiation works wonders. But that doesn’t come at once. For that one needs experience. As such, this simple routine helps me understand a much larger model of the escalier. Out there exist endless such staircases. Climbing at my own pace, maintaining a balance between etiquette and expediency, is the key to ascend in life.