I've been bloody irregular. I am sorry. Or perhaps I am not. Why should I be? No one pays me to write. No one gives a damn either. Or maybe they do. It's not that there aren't things/topics to write on. There are. But does my opinion matter? Do my thoughts count? Who the eff am I anyway? Or who do I think I am?
There was a time I was bloody particular about my name. Now the name -- it's phonetic challenge and 'exotic' value -- have become a bane. 'Jhoomur' once, was known. Now I include 'JB' in my resume as well. Just in case 'they' -- whoever they might be -- cannot pronounce my name... Or throw my resume in the bin because of, "What the eff's a jhoomur?"
There's a phrase here, "She's a goer." It means someone who strives, who doesn't let up, a 'go-getter'. Some smart people have also said that when the going gets tough, the tough get going. It sounds bloody cool. But when the tough get going too hard, they end up with tired feet. A broken spirit. Humiliation and an identity crisis.
I blame it on the media. A press card -- that small rectangle with your name, designation and declaration of affiliation with a media house are big things. They begin defining who you are. They defined me for 10 years. Now it's what the eff's a jhoomur. From being interviewed to not getting interviews and not even being eligible for making sandwiches. And people think immigrants just walk in and take native jobs?! How? Where? Can they teach me?
And to think that I chose to leave it all... Personally, I couldn't be happier. But the moment I begin considering the 'personal' in context of just Me -- removed from other people, love, etc -- it begins to irk. Gnaw. Eviscerate. Ironically, when I've blazed professionally, my personal life has been in the pits (even deeper under). Yet now that the personal angle is happy, I crave that rectangle that was me. My hard work, what I had nurtured... From being 'someone', to being a mere 'huh'.
Now I am beginning to get scared. The tough get going... But what if I am not tough?
Pic courtesy: Sojones