I am - rather – I was writing a story. I left it midway. I now don’t know what to do with it.
It always happens with me.
But today after readin that incomplete story one of my friends said, he will adopt my story and complete it! I am not sure about my reaction to this.
Should I be happy as my story would be complete now? Or should I be sad that my story will be parented by somebody else? Precisely, even if the story completes, will that be my story? Or it will be his? What will happen to the characters in the story? They suddenly will have a different master holding their strings in hand. Will they be aware of this shift in hands or will they just continue to dance to the tune of the master without even bothering about their destiny? Won’t they revolt? Will they not be upset to see that their destiny is being altered?
I suddenly hate this feeling of submitting my story to be completed by somebody else.
------------------------------------------------------
It was I think 7 years back! I was in full bloom and used to write poetry. I distinctly remember, cherish, and envy the disposition of mine during that period. I was always in a lyrical mood. I was popular in college for reciting poetry with a style! Eventually I and my friend staged a show of our own poems! We put in a lot of effort on script, music etc. A renowned critic who wrote on cultural programs in the city for a local newspaper attended the show. My partner in the show who also was (is) a dear friend of mine invited him to the show as one of her teachers knew him personally and thought he could write about the program in the newspaper. I had least idea about this. I saw him coming and sitting at the back when we were about to end the program in ten minutes. I was a bit upset that he could not listen to all of our poems, but still was happy that he came.
He said he will surely write something about the program as he was impressed by a small part he could hear towards the end. We were happy.
Next day morning I woke up to see a nice review of the program in the newspaper. He had crafted his article using some of the lines from our poems that we had printed on our invitation brochure.
But, I was totally broken to see the credits for the poems. He had used my poems in the article but the credits were given to my friend. In the entire review, he never mentioned my name!!! He was under the impression that we staged the program of my friend’s poems and I just accompanied her in reciting her poems.
For half an hour I didn’t know what to do. My friend called me up to say sorry saying that she never knew he would write something like this. I believed her.
It was 7 AM. I had my lecture at 7.20 AM. I set out for the lecture. But I just found myself ringing the door-bell of Mr. Critic in the next 20 minutes. He opened the door himself and greeted me. I could see from his sorry face that he already knew what he had done!
I still don’t know why I went to him. I still don’t recollect the words I spoke to him. I am not sure if I yelled, complained, cried! I don’t know what I did then.
------------------------------------------------------
But I am getting the same feeling again when I got this proposal from my friend to complete my incomplete story!
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Elated!
5.45 AM sharp! I made it today again.
I have this idiotic desire of reaching the GYM sharp at 5.45 AM when there’s just none around. It’s true that I get a kick out of my workout. But believe it or not I really feel elated when I am the first one to reach the GYM. And this feeling makes me equally refreshed as the one and a half hours workout would make.
Daily, I set out from home riding on my beloved cycle at 5.35 AM. I and the road start our day together. The road starts its run and I start my cycling. Both of us reach the GYM together. The road waves me buh-bye for the day and moves ahead for further running. I notice it daily, that the road stops by for half a minute to see whether I could win myself today again! I park my cycle, enter the GYM, switch on the lights, go to the changing room, wear my shoes, and run to the second floor cardio room to check if anybody is there. If not, I switch on the lights and peep out from the window to look at the road. I think, the road says cheers to me. I can also see a thumb up from the corner! J
I come back and start my warm-up! I love to see myself in that big wall-size mirror. I think I look the best at that hour of the day…getting warmed up (not only for the workout ahead but for the entire day ahead), my sweat glands gaping, legs stretching, and each and every muscle group starts slackening off after a nights sleep.
I go to my usual treadmill and switch it on. The green light on the display panel starts blinking to wish a very good morning to me. Again, I and the treadmill start our workout together. Five minutes pass and the GYM instructor comes in. His eyes look for me at the left most corner of the floor routinely and a smile comes to his face when he answers my Good Morning!
I have this idiotic desire of reaching the GYM sharp at 5.45 AM when there’s just none around. It’s true that I get a kick out of my workout. But believe it or not I really feel elated when I am the first one to reach the GYM. And this feeling makes me equally refreshed as the one and a half hours workout would make.
Daily, I set out from home riding on my beloved cycle at 5.35 AM. I and the road start our day together. The road starts its run and I start my cycling. Both of us reach the GYM together. The road waves me buh-bye for the day and moves ahead for further running. I notice it daily, that the road stops by for half a minute to see whether I could win myself today again! I park my cycle, enter the GYM, switch on the lights, go to the changing room, wear my shoes, and run to the second floor cardio room to check if anybody is there. If not, I switch on the lights and peep out from the window to look at the road. I think, the road says cheers to me. I can also see a thumb up from the corner! J
I come back and start my warm-up! I love to see myself in that big wall-size mirror. I think I look the best at that hour of the day…getting warmed up (not only for the workout ahead but for the entire day ahead), my sweat glands gaping, legs stretching, and each and every muscle group starts slackening off after a nights sleep.
I go to my usual treadmill and switch it on. The green light on the display panel starts blinking to wish a very good morning to me. Again, I and the treadmill start our workout together. Five minutes pass and the GYM instructor comes in. His eyes look for me at the left most corner of the floor routinely and a smile comes to his face when he answers my Good Morning!
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Show me the money!
This piece is an attempt to hit on the moment when I realized the value of money. When was it that I became au fait with the power of money? When did I suddenly realize that one has to work hard to get something in return and that something is called money? How my perception of money as a system of exchange changed over the years? How did I overcome the phase of not being able to differentiate between those 10/20/100/500 rupees notes from Nava Wyapar and the 10/20/50/100 rupee notes that my papa would carry in his pouch?
How could I mould myself into this money-making business without giving much of trouble to myself? How could it come so naturally? How can we so naturally have an urge to earn money? And what about those who say, money does not matter for them?
--------------------------------------------------------
It was December cold of my fifth standard in school. I was happy that I was an inch taller that December. And I demanded a new school uniform to my papa just to hear a straight, big “No” from him. It was important for me. I was desperate to show it to my friends and more than that I was keen on narrating my friends the story of “my height and the school uniform”. But papa’s “No” just washed off all my plans. I remember how I wondered on why papa straight away refused to buy me a brand new set of school uniform in the middle of the year.
I remember his words exactly. He had made a firm statement, “It’s already December. You will anyways get a new uniform when the school opens after summer vacations. I don’t want to waste money now on that thing.”
I kept thinking how this money-matter came into picture?
I think this is the first sharp memory I have when I realized, “money matters!”
By the time I was eligible for appearing for the Board exams that were to mark the beginning of my professional training; I was thorough with all the reasons why money is important. My teachers, my parents, my friends, my parents’ friends, my relatives, television, and all the career consultants had bombarded me with enough of knowledge. They successfully made me believe that to build a career of your own meant to excel in whatever you do and to earn good money. I suddenly started finding myself a part of the conversations in our school group that very often broke into some serious discussion over career matters.
This is how the conversation went on for me. (Read me in the brackets. The stars can be replaced by any field of your choice)
“Oh no! Never go for *** it does not have much scope.”
(Oh ok there is something called scope that again has to do with money. If a field would not earn you good amount of money, it meant to have no scope.)
“Yeah I know *** is damn good. My Didi’s friend did that and even before she completed the course, she got the job too”
(Hmmm…so you also need to get the job. Again, the job has to earn you money.)
“My Dad consulted one of his friends in the US. He asked him to put me into ****. Dad said, I would be earning in Dollars if I do so!”
(Yea!!!! Dollars! So merely earning money was not enough or what? If you earn in Dollar, it has more value! I only know Dollar is the currency that is used in the US.)
“Damn…! You mediocre people! You will never come out of this clerk mentality of yours! You will never dream big, will always play safe! I am going to be on my own. Even if I suffer losses in the beginning, one day I will have my own empire of crores!”
(zzzzzzzzzzzzrrrrrrrr! People are serious! Am I the only dumb, ignorant, and meek creature here who has no opinion on this? Am I still to grow up? Aaaaah!)
--------------------------------------------------------
I completed my BA (History) after dealing with a lot of resistance from friends, parents, teachers who thought I was making a bad career decision.
To affirm the truth, I was still to evolve to surrender myself to be governed by the laws of the world.
I now believe that you require a lot more maturity and strength to obey the rules of the world than to flout them. Till then I was taking the easier path of carving my own rules about career by not thinking about earning money. I was all set to try out as many things as I could to find the best that would suit my temperament and my aptitude!
(All this to realize that once you set the goal as earning money, the temperament and the aptitude hardly matter! You start enjoying everything that pays you. And even if you don’t, money makes you discreet enough to justify everything that you do!)
And so did I! I was happy earning a meager 4000 bucks per month when I worked with a news paper as a trainee reporter! I was quite a girl on the move that time! And I thought this is what I would do throughout my life! That satisfied all my itches…of writing, of being creative, of being adventurous, and of being novel, and what not! After a year I was left with 25000 in my hands and I decided to buy a brand new Scooty for me! Believe it or not I was to my bicycle till then. And I bought a new Scooty (kick start as the button start would go out of my budget) after expending all my savings.
I could feel contractions in my stomach after the feeling of smugness for buying my first vehicle with my own money grew fainter. I could also feel a sour taste in my throat for the next few months after realizing that I was left with no money!
I did not give up. May be I still had not evolved!
I perked up myself. After all I enjoyed writing and that was what I was doing. I was at least not like the others who worked day in and day out just to earn the damn rupee! I decided to try some other fields in writing so that I could explore new “horizons” in the field of writing. I tried copy-writing. I also had a stint as a script writer for some documentaries. Suddenly I started feeling a strong force that was drifting me away from these. I could enjoy nothing of this. By now I knew it for certain that I did want to earn good money.
-------------------------------------------------------
I became a technical writer, thus embracing the sun-rise industry that is best known as the highest paying industry in the dollar economy. The only approval I had while entering this field was that, I would still be “writing”.
Now, I earn good money, live a good life style that I am sure I could not have attained so fast had I continued to be in the same old profession. And I am stable now.
I hear of my colleagues speaking about job satisfaction now. Think, it’s inexpensive to talk about “job satisfaction” once your pocket is secured. I too participate in their conversation although with a dull motivation.
I now can cay, “I am evolved and grown up!” I am set on the tougher path now- obeying the rules of the world!
How could I mould myself into this money-making business without giving much of trouble to myself? How could it come so naturally? How can we so naturally have an urge to earn money? And what about those who say, money does not matter for them?
--------------------------------------------------------
It was December cold of my fifth standard in school. I was happy that I was an inch taller that December. And I demanded a new school uniform to my papa just to hear a straight, big “No” from him. It was important for me. I was desperate to show it to my friends and more than that I was keen on narrating my friends the story of “my height and the school uniform”. But papa’s “No” just washed off all my plans. I remember how I wondered on why papa straight away refused to buy me a brand new set of school uniform in the middle of the year.
I remember his words exactly. He had made a firm statement, “It’s already December. You will anyways get a new uniform when the school opens after summer vacations. I don’t want to waste money now on that thing.”
I kept thinking how this money-matter came into picture?
I think this is the first sharp memory I have when I realized, “money matters!”
By the time I was eligible for appearing for the Board exams that were to mark the beginning of my professional training; I was thorough with all the reasons why money is important. My teachers, my parents, my friends, my parents’ friends, my relatives, television, and all the career consultants had bombarded me with enough of knowledge. They successfully made me believe that to build a career of your own meant to excel in whatever you do and to earn good money. I suddenly started finding myself a part of the conversations in our school group that very often broke into some serious discussion over career matters.
This is how the conversation went on for me. (Read me in the brackets. The stars can be replaced by any field of your choice)
“Oh no! Never go for *** it does not have much scope.”
(Oh ok there is something called scope that again has to do with money. If a field would not earn you good amount of money, it meant to have no scope.)
“Yeah I know *** is damn good. My Didi’s friend did that and even before she completed the course, she got the job too”
(Hmmm…so you also need to get the job. Again, the job has to earn you money.)
“My Dad consulted one of his friends in the US. He asked him to put me into ****. Dad said, I would be earning in Dollars if I do so!”
(Yea!!!! Dollars! So merely earning money was not enough or what? If you earn in Dollar, it has more value! I only know Dollar is the currency that is used in the US.)
“Damn…! You mediocre people! You will never come out of this clerk mentality of yours! You will never dream big, will always play safe! I am going to be on my own. Even if I suffer losses in the beginning, one day I will have my own empire of crores!”
(zzzzzzzzzzzzrrrrrrrr! People are serious! Am I the only dumb, ignorant, and meek creature here who has no opinion on this? Am I still to grow up? Aaaaah!)
--------------------------------------------------------
I completed my BA (History) after dealing with a lot of resistance from friends, parents, teachers who thought I was making a bad career decision.
To affirm the truth, I was still to evolve to surrender myself to be governed by the laws of the world.
I now believe that you require a lot more maturity and strength to obey the rules of the world than to flout them. Till then I was taking the easier path of carving my own rules about career by not thinking about earning money. I was all set to try out as many things as I could to find the best that would suit my temperament and my aptitude!
(All this to realize that once you set the goal as earning money, the temperament and the aptitude hardly matter! You start enjoying everything that pays you. And even if you don’t, money makes you discreet enough to justify everything that you do!)
And so did I! I was happy earning a meager 4000 bucks per month when I worked with a news paper as a trainee reporter! I was quite a girl on the move that time! And I thought this is what I would do throughout my life! That satisfied all my itches…of writing, of being creative, of being adventurous, and of being novel, and what not! After a year I was left with 25000 in my hands and I decided to buy a brand new Scooty for me! Believe it or not I was to my bicycle till then. And I bought a new Scooty (kick start as the button start would go out of my budget) after expending all my savings.
I could feel contractions in my stomach after the feeling of smugness for buying my first vehicle with my own money grew fainter. I could also feel a sour taste in my throat for the next few months after realizing that I was left with no money!
I did not give up. May be I still had not evolved!
I perked up myself. After all I enjoyed writing and that was what I was doing. I was at least not like the others who worked day in and day out just to earn the damn rupee! I decided to try some other fields in writing so that I could explore new “horizons” in the field of writing. I tried copy-writing. I also had a stint as a script writer for some documentaries. Suddenly I started feeling a strong force that was drifting me away from these. I could enjoy nothing of this. By now I knew it for certain that I did want to earn good money.
-------------------------------------------------------
I became a technical writer, thus embracing the sun-rise industry that is best known as the highest paying industry in the dollar economy. The only approval I had while entering this field was that, I would still be “writing”.
Now, I earn good money, live a good life style that I am sure I could not have attained so fast had I continued to be in the same old profession. And I am stable now.
I hear of my colleagues speaking about job satisfaction now. Think, it’s inexpensive to talk about “job satisfaction” once your pocket is secured. I too participate in their conversation although with a dull motivation.
I now can cay, “I am evolved and grown up!” I am set on the tougher path now- obeying the rules of the world!
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Immune
One:
Her eyes opened wide with ecstasy. It came like a bolt from the blue for her. And she did not exhibit even a fading sign of being embarrassed by her own awed reactions to that affair. She openly let the tears roll down.
She is eighty. She could not believe her eyes when she could actually see her great grand son on the monitor in front of her... talking to her live. Her surprise knew no boundaries when she heard her grand-son commenting on her Pink nine yard sari that she wore. It was all magic for her. Something she could have never thought of. She still was not ready to believe that gone are the days when the parents would bid a final farewell to their kids thinking they would never be able to see them again in this life, if they went abroad.
Two:
My friend was thrilled to see the milky white frozen water all over! It was his first rendezvous with the land of snow. He was stumped by the magnificence. That night when all of us touched base in the hotel, calling his son was the first task on his to-do list. His son- a five year old smart chap! This sharp kid after hearing the narration from his father took a pause and asked,
“But, do you know what to do with the snow?”
“ha ha ha! You tell me, what should I do with the snow!” the father asked admiringly.
“Ok, I will tell you. You should make balls out of snow and throw at each other. You can also put snow into each other’s clothes from the back and run away! It’s so much of fun!”, the kid made his note.
Three:
We all, living in this new age… are we all immune to surprises? Have we reached a saturation point, where nothing can really amuse us? Do we by now know that anything is possible in this world!
I think there are two aspects to this:
1. We know everything.
Nothing has remained unexplored for us. We know all the lands in the world, all the people,
all the races, all ethnicities, all types of animals, birds, the world history, the politics, the
economic state of all the states, the issues, the 7,8,9,10…n..wonders in the world.. literally
everything!
How can we then be surprised?
2. We all are techno-savvy.
Technology has already shown its wonders to the society in the past. We are just reaping its
fruits in this age. Thus, we believe that nothing is impossible with technology.
As an upshot, we are not surprised.
Her eyes opened wide with ecstasy. It came like a bolt from the blue for her. And she did not exhibit even a fading sign of being embarrassed by her own awed reactions to that affair. She openly let the tears roll down.
She is eighty. She could not believe her eyes when she could actually see her great grand son on the monitor in front of her... talking to her live. Her surprise knew no boundaries when she heard her grand-son commenting on her Pink nine yard sari that she wore. It was all magic for her. Something she could have never thought of. She still was not ready to believe that gone are the days when the parents would bid a final farewell to their kids thinking they would never be able to see them again in this life, if they went abroad.
Two:
My friend was thrilled to see the milky white frozen water all over! It was his first rendezvous with the land of snow. He was stumped by the magnificence. That night when all of us touched base in the hotel, calling his son was the first task on his to-do list. His son- a five year old smart chap! This sharp kid after hearing the narration from his father took a pause and asked,
“But, do you know what to do with the snow?”
“ha ha ha! You tell me, what should I do with the snow!” the father asked admiringly.
“Ok, I will tell you. You should make balls out of snow and throw at each other. You can also put snow into each other’s clothes from the back and run away! It’s so much of fun!”, the kid made his note.
Three:
We all, living in this new age… are we all immune to surprises? Have we reached a saturation point, where nothing can really amuse us? Do we by now know that anything is possible in this world!
I think there are two aspects to this:
1. We know everything.
Nothing has remained unexplored for us. We know all the lands in the world, all the people,
all the races, all ethnicities, all types of animals, birds, the world history, the politics, the
economic state of all the states, the issues, the 7,8,9,10…n..wonders in the world.. literally
everything!
How can we then be surprised?
2. We all are techno-savvy.
Technology has already shown its wonders to the society in the past. We are just reaping its
fruits in this age. Thus, we believe that nothing is impossible with technology.
As an upshot, we are not surprised.
Friday, March 16, 2007
continued...
I choose be creatively inconsistent!
This is safe-conduct. Just in case people indict me of being creative, I select to not exhibit any consistency. Thus I don’t get accused of creativity and can easily escape this sin. The moment people notice even an iota of consistency the onus lies on me to display the same creativity. Oh my god!
I am getting confused.
This is safe-conduct. Just in case people indict me of being creative, I select to not exhibit any consistency. Thus I don’t get accused of creativity and can easily escape this sin. The moment people notice even an iota of consistency the onus lies on me to display the same creativity. Oh my god!
I am getting confused.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Creativity or consistency?
What is more important, being creative or being consistent?
Creativity is not a skill. It is something that you cannot acquire. You cannot imbibe in you the qualities of a creative person. You cannot learn to be creative. It is something that either you can have or you cannot have.
On the contrary you can learn to be consistent. You can practice to be consistent. Consistency is something that you definitely can have after practice and hard work.
Creativity has no relation with any kind of hard work. If you are creative, you can be creative without any effort. But, if you want to be consistent you have to put in hard efforts.
So again, what is more important, being creative or being consistent?
We hear of the stories of great actors and how their glory just faded off in just a film or two. We read critics ascertaining the fact that xyz could have been a good actor or a painter or a director or a writer or a poet… had he tried to maintain consistency. What does this mean? On one side you avow that the person is potentially talented. You also agree on the fact that the person has done his job extra-ordinarily well. And then you suddenly start debating on his proficiency in the field, on account of his not being consistent.
Can you be consistently creative?
Creativity is not a skill. It is something that you cannot acquire. You cannot imbibe in you the qualities of a creative person. You cannot learn to be creative. It is something that either you can have or you cannot have.
On the contrary you can learn to be consistent. You can practice to be consistent. Consistency is something that you definitely can have after practice and hard work.
Creativity has no relation with any kind of hard work. If you are creative, you can be creative without any effort. But, if you want to be consistent you have to put in hard efforts.
So again, what is more important, being creative or being consistent?
We hear of the stories of great actors and how their glory just faded off in just a film or two. We read critics ascertaining the fact that xyz could have been a good actor or a painter or a director or a writer or a poet… had he tried to maintain consistency. What does this mean? On one side you avow that the person is potentially talented. You also agree on the fact that the person has done his job extra-ordinarily well. And then you suddenly start debating on his proficiency in the field, on account of his not being consistent.
Can you be consistently creative?
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Dealing with the block
Its 10.21 AM, Friday—the last working day of the week. I sit at my desk in the office and have opened a New Microsoft Word document to scribble something as I work on the other server. The server response is slow and I am using its slowed down speed to my advantage, praying that it does not come up for another at least half an hour. (Making use of official resources for personal things you can say. A sin, is it? ) But I don’t want to miss this now. Coz I know how difficult it is to regain this disposition and gather myself for writing again. It would mean another half a year at least. I just got a sudden realization 10 minutes back. This piece of writing is an upshot of the same. It has been long since I wanted to enter this world of Blogs and have been postponing it for no reason.
I used to take pride in the fact that people are egging me on to start blogging. I had got a sort of a smug glow of self-congratulation.
I could literally feel some air passing through my neck towards my head with the feeling that people want to read what I might be writing and that they are curious about what I would write.
Nah nah.. don’t think I am writing this so that people get an opportunity read it. On the contrary, I write this to just get myself out of this false image of mine in my mind. So, actually it’s ok if no one reads it or gives me no comments. This is just so that I get out of this habit of procrastinating things without any good reason.
I used to take pride in the fact that people are egging me on to start blogging. I had got a sort of a smug glow of self-congratulation.
I could literally feel some air passing through my neck towards my head with the feeling that people want to read what I might be writing and that they are curious about what I would write.
Nah nah.. don’t think I am writing this so that people get an opportunity read it. On the contrary, I write this to just get myself out of this false image of mine in my mind. So, actually it’s ok if no one reads it or gives me no comments. This is just so that I get out of this habit of procrastinating things without any good reason.
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