Today I was offered a job. My first job.
My heart throbbed not just in pleasure but fear too. I have been a girl raised deep within the womb of protective family. I was given every convenience but also made aware of the perils in earning that convenience or luxury. I am not sure if I must be abraded with such perspectives when I was young. As I raced towards my growing years I was subjected to an intensified indoctrination about the value of money.
It was often done with impunity and unilateral dominance whose relevance I could understand not at all. As a young girl I always saw life as a dream passing by right before my eyes and mom and dad are always there to keep me safe.
This element of stark reality in the fabric of a relentless reminder about money and its generation made me grit my teeth and hate money in a way. But a concurrent fear that’s germinated and nurtured within my heart made me revere money in a new way.
I used to have nightmares about me becoming capable to earn money. I am artistic in nature. My eyes try to imagine something beautiful and look around to see if anything scattered around could be made to look what I thought of. Paper shreds, bottle caps, threads and needles, pieces of felt and leather and million more junk pieces used to dance before me waiting to be sculpted and crafted in my hands.
Though I am artistic in nature I am not an expert artist. My creations used to look like a disoriented harmony of an idea. A tortoise I made with a half blown rubber balloon covered with glue socked papers… made to dry till I find it in the shape I needed. I used blobs of wet flour made in to stumps and lumps to give four legs and head. I carefully used my fingers to get the contours I wanted and then waited patiently till it dried and ready for my next action. I used paint and with loving stokes I painted eyes, nose, little lips and circles on its hump. My little tortoise looked so cute with its big eyes looking back at me.
Now I wondered if I should sell it to make money. I heart rebelled against my own will. It looked so pretty and innocent that I was scared what might happen if the subsequent owner who buys that with money would get disinterested in it one fine day. I still could not retain that with me just because I created it. I thought it could become a unique gift that’s made with my own hands for someone who loved to see smile and pride on my face.
I shyly presented that to one of my friend who accepted with utmost delicacy. His eyes shined in glee as he looked at it and my eyes shined even brighter to see the recognition in his eyes that lay in his hands. I truly felt rewarded… but then again it was not money that I was rewarded with.
There were times I suffered mutely about being subjected to harsh words about my dependency status. I swallowed my own pride and tried means to make money.
I am reserved shy and introverted. I get fascinated listening to success stories and rewards for hard work. But I know not about the darker side methods and means to reach the heights of success. I innocently believed that if I make something and if they like they will give me money and I could claim my own freedom even in little amount.
I was a few times grabbed by people who looked and talked so nice about being independent and self sufficient with almost no sweat shed. I was too thrilled and to meet people in their meetings. They are pyramid scheme and multi level marketing cults and totally terrified me with their eye blindingly bright artificial attitude. They almost pounced on me to grab on their side and I felt disgusted to know if this is how money is made. I went back to my own solitude and soliloquies to decide that I will do things on my own.
I used to watch merchandise while I roamed in shopping streets. I dared asking a footwear vender if he required any motifs. He was kind enough to encourage me in bring some. I was euphoric. It is not lesser than initiating or acquiring a profitable business venture where Champagne bottle corks popped, balloons released, people clapped and press conferences were made.
But all those Champagne over flowed, balloons released, people clapped and press conferences were made… were made within my heart. With in nano seconds I encountered my own million images asking me billion questions and clapping on my future success. I was too busy answering my own questions and curiosity. It is so wonderful to be so important productive and successful.
Now when I opened my as my mom screamed from down stairs where I was looking dreams in broad day light. I ran in to hall and tired gather my courage asking dad to give me some money to buy raw material. He looked at me and asked why would I need money though I have been provided with everything. I told him what I have in my mind. After a thoughtful moment he said he would rather get me the material than giving me money. I was on cloud nine and waited impatiently for the next day. I got a few pieces of Formica and started working on my dream business venture.
I just could not know where to start. I draw a profile and took scissors to cut that shape. My trebling hands tried harder under my watchful as my heart started screaming at my own self. I cut a flower shaped piece and tried creating the next layer of petals. I cut leaves and took needle and thread and sewed then in shape. It was so mediocre and so hard to make. I dreaded making many such motifs that could be sold for a decent profit and I could make money and show my parents that I too could make money.
It was frustrating and I dumped the idea of making money through motifs. It brought tears to my eyes as I ushered my own self back to my misery. Miseries of going back to my martinet parents and extend my hands before them. I could do no more than that not just because I am weak. I loved my parents too. I could never think of anything that would malign their image in a subtle way like working in some small job either.
Money and I always had this love hate kind of relation between us. I enjoy finer things in life. It’s not a quality that’s induced by my upbringing. It’s because I developed my own propensity in liking beautiful things. I love to decorate my home and my surroundings including myself. I am a girly girl. I am never far away from a heart wrenching anguish and a gut wrenching laughter.
And money… money remained a demon that haunted me day and night when I have it not in my hands and remained sycophantic when it’s imprisoned my purse. I need to earn money and lots of it. Not to seek fame or pleasure or power. I wanted money to only to fit the expectations of others.
Ore else I just wanted to be lost in my own world of mediocre creativity. I have tremendous faith in turning this mediocrity in to excellence one day. I would look at my own creations… lest the world like them or not.
But I needed faith and confidence that’s offered by money.
I was torn between what I am really doing and what I longed for. I am in graduation school of computer science. I get not fascinated by source codes and software. Hardware gives me head ache and software always treated me savage. I treat computers no more than a necessary tool. I wish not to make my life revolve around binary numbers and strings or ASCII or C++ or what ever.
I wanted to build edifices. Decorate interiors. I wanted to create ambience in which anyone could relax. I want my ideas to bring out what people wanted from them when they are within a premise. To radiate the objectives of an idea in sublimed form where people live, work, relax and enjoy. I wanted to be responsible from a brick to skyscraper. I was rudely jolted by my own people telling me that by the time people noticed me in that profession I would be as extinct as dodo.
My life was always decided not by me. I obeyed because… I am dependent.
And yesterday I was interviewed. I was offered a handsome amount of pay pack for a software job when I come out of my graduation school. I felt so happy and confident. I am happy not because I got an opportunity to earn money. I was happy that my existence was identified with usefulness and productivity where money is a by product. A byproduct that’s respected by everyone in sick manner crushing ideals and dreams what my young heart saw.
I need money. I shall push my innocence and absolute honesty aside and wipe my tears. I shall earn my pay. And I pay my way to do what I wanted. I shall enroll in art school when I accumulate an amount that supports me reach my dream. I will see that I will extend my hands no more before anyone who fill my hands with money and heart with deep loathing towards me.
I am proud in my own ironic way that what I hated is same thing thats coming to my aid. I will never forget the pain I underwent to struggle staying in line that’s made essential in this society. I shall look out for those who feel the same way that I felt. I shall give them hope… if not money. I shall humiliate dreams of no one however unreasonable, unproductive or unattractive.
I am blessed with my first step towards confidence. I shall step forward and climb higher. I am happy today….
I got my first job…
(Congratulations… My angel….)
My heart throbbed not just in pleasure but fear too. I have been a girl raised deep within the womb of protective family. I was given every convenience but also made aware of the perils in earning that convenience or luxury. I am not sure if I must be abraded with such perspectives when I was young. As I raced towards my growing years I was subjected to an intensified indoctrination about the value of money.
It was often done with impunity and unilateral dominance whose relevance I could understand not at all. As a young girl I always saw life as a dream passing by right before my eyes and mom and dad are always there to keep me safe.
This element of stark reality in the fabric of a relentless reminder about money and its generation made me grit my teeth and hate money in a way. But a concurrent fear that’s germinated and nurtured within my heart made me revere money in a new way.
I used to have nightmares about me becoming capable to earn money. I am artistic in nature. My eyes try to imagine something beautiful and look around to see if anything scattered around could be made to look what I thought of. Paper shreds, bottle caps, threads and needles, pieces of felt and leather and million more junk pieces used to dance before me waiting to be sculpted and crafted in my hands.
Though I am artistic in nature I am not an expert artist. My creations used to look like a disoriented harmony of an idea. A tortoise I made with a half blown rubber balloon covered with glue socked papers… made to dry till I find it in the shape I needed. I used blobs of wet flour made in to stumps and lumps to give four legs and head. I carefully used my fingers to get the contours I wanted and then waited patiently till it dried and ready for my next action. I used paint and with loving stokes I painted eyes, nose, little lips and circles on its hump. My little tortoise looked so cute with its big eyes looking back at me.
Now I wondered if I should sell it to make money. I heart rebelled against my own will. It looked so pretty and innocent that I was scared what might happen if the subsequent owner who buys that with money would get disinterested in it one fine day. I still could not retain that with me just because I created it. I thought it could become a unique gift that’s made with my own hands for someone who loved to see smile and pride on my face.
I shyly presented that to one of my friend who accepted with utmost delicacy. His eyes shined in glee as he looked at it and my eyes shined even brighter to see the recognition in his eyes that lay in his hands. I truly felt rewarded… but then again it was not money that I was rewarded with.
There were times I suffered mutely about being subjected to harsh words about my dependency status. I swallowed my own pride and tried means to make money.
I am reserved shy and introverted. I get fascinated listening to success stories and rewards for hard work. But I know not about the darker side methods and means to reach the heights of success. I innocently believed that if I make something and if they like they will give me money and I could claim my own freedom even in little amount.
I was a few times grabbed by people who looked and talked so nice about being independent and self sufficient with almost no sweat shed. I was too thrilled and to meet people in their meetings. They are pyramid scheme and multi level marketing cults and totally terrified me with their eye blindingly bright artificial attitude. They almost pounced on me to grab on their side and I felt disgusted to know if this is how money is made. I went back to my own solitude and soliloquies to decide that I will do things on my own.
I used to watch merchandise while I roamed in shopping streets. I dared asking a footwear vender if he required any motifs. He was kind enough to encourage me in bring some. I was euphoric. It is not lesser than initiating or acquiring a profitable business venture where Champagne bottle corks popped, balloons released, people clapped and press conferences were made.
But all those Champagne over flowed, balloons released, people clapped and press conferences were made… were made within my heart. With in nano seconds I encountered my own million images asking me billion questions and clapping on my future success. I was too busy answering my own questions and curiosity. It is so wonderful to be so important productive and successful.
Now when I opened my as my mom screamed from down stairs where I was looking dreams in broad day light. I ran in to hall and tired gather my courage asking dad to give me some money to buy raw material. He looked at me and asked why would I need money though I have been provided with everything. I told him what I have in my mind. After a thoughtful moment he said he would rather get me the material than giving me money. I was on cloud nine and waited impatiently for the next day. I got a few pieces of Formica and started working on my dream business venture.
I just could not know where to start. I draw a profile and took scissors to cut that shape. My trebling hands tried harder under my watchful as my heart started screaming at my own self. I cut a flower shaped piece and tried creating the next layer of petals. I cut leaves and took needle and thread and sewed then in shape. It was so mediocre and so hard to make. I dreaded making many such motifs that could be sold for a decent profit and I could make money and show my parents that I too could make money.
It was frustrating and I dumped the idea of making money through motifs. It brought tears to my eyes as I ushered my own self back to my misery. Miseries of going back to my martinet parents and extend my hands before them. I could do no more than that not just because I am weak. I loved my parents too. I could never think of anything that would malign their image in a subtle way like working in some small job either.
Money and I always had this love hate kind of relation between us. I enjoy finer things in life. It’s not a quality that’s induced by my upbringing. It’s because I developed my own propensity in liking beautiful things. I love to decorate my home and my surroundings including myself. I am a girly girl. I am never far away from a heart wrenching anguish and a gut wrenching laughter.
And money… money remained a demon that haunted me day and night when I have it not in my hands and remained sycophantic when it’s imprisoned my purse. I need to earn money and lots of it. Not to seek fame or pleasure or power. I wanted money to only to fit the expectations of others.
Ore else I just wanted to be lost in my own world of mediocre creativity. I have tremendous faith in turning this mediocrity in to excellence one day. I would look at my own creations… lest the world like them or not.
But I needed faith and confidence that’s offered by money.
I was torn between what I am really doing and what I longed for. I am in graduation school of computer science. I get not fascinated by source codes and software. Hardware gives me head ache and software always treated me savage. I treat computers no more than a necessary tool. I wish not to make my life revolve around binary numbers and strings or ASCII or C++ or what ever.
I wanted to build edifices. Decorate interiors. I wanted to create ambience in which anyone could relax. I want my ideas to bring out what people wanted from them when they are within a premise. To radiate the objectives of an idea in sublimed form where people live, work, relax and enjoy. I wanted to be responsible from a brick to skyscraper. I was rudely jolted by my own people telling me that by the time people noticed me in that profession I would be as extinct as dodo.
My life was always decided not by me. I obeyed because… I am dependent.
And yesterday I was interviewed. I was offered a handsome amount of pay pack for a software job when I come out of my graduation school. I felt so happy and confident. I am happy not because I got an opportunity to earn money. I was happy that my existence was identified with usefulness and productivity where money is a by product. A byproduct that’s respected by everyone in sick manner crushing ideals and dreams what my young heart saw.
I need money. I shall push my innocence and absolute honesty aside and wipe my tears. I shall earn my pay. And I pay my way to do what I wanted. I shall enroll in art school when I accumulate an amount that supports me reach my dream. I will see that I will extend my hands no more before anyone who fill my hands with money and heart with deep loathing towards me.
I am proud in my own ironic way that what I hated is same thing thats coming to my aid. I will never forget the pain I underwent to struggle staying in line that’s made essential in this society. I shall look out for those who feel the same way that I felt. I shall give them hope… if not money. I shall humiliate dreams of no one however unreasonable, unproductive or unattractive.
I am blessed with my first step towards confidence. I shall step forward and climb higher. I am happy today….
I got my first job…
(Congratulations… My angel….)
1 comment:
I believe the silver line is yet to come beyond all the clouds!
I'm happy to know this :-)
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