Tuesday, November 3

Yours Un-Emotionally

Nanak aaya, Guru Nanak aaya...

I used to go to the gurudwara every year on this day... Haven't done that in the last 2 years; had a split with a Sikh friend...

Anyway, wish you all a b
elated Happy Guru Nanak Jayanti...

Cheers, buddies! Mum's back! Yippeeeeee... And double cheers coz India lost the match yesterday. I knew Australia would kill it. Not that I ain't patriotic, it's just that I don't have much faith in our Indian cricket team. Don't blame me : half the people I know agree with my viewpoint.

Awrite time out. Don't be wild at me just coz we may not think alike.


So, I told you about this essay I had to do for NYU Stern. Not an essay exactly; anything to describe yourself creatively. I can’t believe how many people this essay has made me hostile towards…

I mean, seriously!

Now, I’m not the absolutely creative and funky types who can come up with something grandiose and out of this world. I think reasonable and I plan practical. When I read this essay topic that said I could use any means to show my interests and achievements to my potential MBA classmates, I really did not know what to do. I was sure I did not want to just WRITE an essay, but beyond that I was clueless.

I asked a few friends for ideas, and I browsed the net. I read that people had sent photo albums and collages, even cereal boxes! This sounded interesting but not my style (as I said, I go with handy and smart).

So, I toyed with the concept of using a T-shirt
(a brand new one, as clearly indicated by the university) to showcase my talents, qualities, etc. But what exactly…

SOS-ed friends and relatives. A few of them gave some witty and many vague ideas, nothing too direct and helpful. I had to salvage from their scattered points and do something that looked “Anuja”.

(Thanks Sibi, Denis and Ajay for your inputs. Appreciate it.)

Abba, ever the Devil’s Advocate, managed to scrap all the ideas that I was bouncing off on him, but he could not give me even one constructive point to work on.
(Thanks, anyway. For a lot of things. I’m forever indebted.)

The point being, when you desperately need help, there’s few people who will be willing to be of assistance. Frustrating, but true.

Even after I put in a thousand efforts and came up with a piece that looked outstanding to me
(from an objective perspective), there were hardly any people to make me feel good about it! I borrowed Dad’s pen to jot a poem on the rear, and when I invited him to look at it, he said in a pompous tone, “Isn’t the pen nice? All my friends keep asking me to get them one.” I looked at him dumbfounded. What about my hard work and impeccable script?

I called a friend and proudly displayed my
kaarigari to him. As luck would have it, we happened to have a skirmish (a very stupid one, if I may add) right before he saw the T. Obviously, his anger meant more to him than my intense need for feedback. And he walked out after poring over my work without even a "Hmm" or "Wow!" or "This is cool!" or anything to that effect. I felt awful... With friends like these, who needs enemies?!!


I thought Abba would be more thoughtful. If not, Ammi was always there.

Mistake.

I carefully towed my craft from my home to theirs and opened it with suppressed delight. I watched their faces as they read through all the matter and saw the visuals.

And then Abba opened his mouth; I was barely breathing.



"Don't you think," I cringed... "this could be less boastful?"


"I've just written the truth - my achievements in school and college, at work, outside..."


"I know."


"And then I pursued modelling so a few snaps, and my personality traits."


"Ya."


"And my interests and hobbies..."


"Hmm."


"It's all true."


"Ya, but should it not be more modest?"


"Would they accept me if I projected a mediocre picture of myself?"

"I don't know. It's my opinion. If you don't like it, just ignore it..."



Sigh.


I wish he'd said something nice before he said this. Don't people know that when you give feedback, you always use the Sandwich technique : Good-Bad-Good? Or am I asking for too much? How can you so completely disregard somebody's honest effort and intention?


I'm feeling truly horrible man. I seem to be surrounded by idiots who have no emotional intelligence. Missing my mom... She's the one who peps me up so well and flatters me no end (and that irritates me as well at times when I'm looking for criticism. But she loves me ya... Forgiven a thousand times over.)


And yet again I think why EQ is not made a compulsory subject in school...
Shall come up with a test one of these days, just so you know where you stand and where you go wrong...


And...


I know my work's good... whether anyone appreciates it or not...


(I hate my approval-seeking nature!!)


But I'm GOOD... and there's no changing that.


Love,
Princess

2 comments:

vishal said...

Hi,
are u looking for criticisms?
1)Are u too much self-complacent?
2)At times you lack ambition and objectives in life?
3)Are you an emotional fool and do you get angry for reasons whatsoever?
4)In a flurry of rage,are u capable of blasting almost everthing?
5)At times,you feel you lack the drive and doubt your capability?
If any of your answer bears a Y for YES,then whatever we are doing in life we have achieved only 1 percent and we have far more possibilities in life and we are far more capable than we think we are.Time to leash ur untap potentials.
More than that I can't coz I dunt really know you that much.Btw,yo must know yourself more than anyone and you knw where u stand..so..just do it and the sky is the limit...

ani_aset said...

:) >:D<
Cheer up..Its not much about what you like or dislike..we can keep that for later..whats important is what will get you into the B-School. Did you try finding that out from current resident students? Once you have that..you can work on those lines..after you get into the B-school you can do whatever you feel like..and then you wont have to ask anyone :D. God bless you.

Shadow

He looked at her like she was the air he breathed, Without, he would collapse.  He lived to see her smile, Her dimples, his prized possessio...