Another random reflection

I woke up at 6.30 AM with a massive headache and then the images slowly came back to me- I was tossing around all night and I was worried. Worried that I had bitten off more than I could chew, worried that I was just too unrealistically ambitious, worried that my writing sucks. This in turn ruined my mood and determination to work the next day and made me extremely anxious. I dozed off at some point between debating whether what I was thinking was for real or what was turning out to be “real” was because I was thinking of it…(should restructure that statement later)

My interviews for today were scheduled with Ishrat and Anish. Talking to them, I had hoped would give me some understanding of how expansion projects affect fellows. Basically, this was my induction of sorts into the project.

I started knocking on Ishrat’s door to wake her up. Yes, I fully intended on taking the interview- fuck that headache. Today was supposed to be a day I live like/ be a writer, live a part of my dream and give it a test run.7.30 AM and still no response. I sent her a text, called her mobile. Nope! No response. I knew she would get up late and this interview was not going to happen at 8 AM. Somehow, I did not lose my cool. I trusted her enough to know that she would make up for this and I knew I could not afford to be angry- I had the 2^nd interview scheduled for 11 AM. I didn’t want to ruin the chances of that being fantastic. For now, I had woken up early and I put this extra time to some scripting and reading Daisy Miller by Henry James. Two things learnt- A) Don’t schedule meetings before 10 AM and after 7 PM. Chances are your interviewee’s won’t make it. B) Stay calm. Make the best of the current situation.

At 11 AM I reached blue city (the boys’s apartment) with a packed bag- camera, pen, diary, recorder, water bottle, cigarettes for Anish, a deodorant( I knew it was going to be a long day) and lipbalm. Ooh and candies for the sugar! J I checked my equipment and placed them in the right spot, stuck a “don’t disturb” sign on the door.

My scripting was the bare minimum; I wanted to draw out questions from the interview itself. This turned out to be a good decision. During the interview, I realised I absolutely loved what I was doing and I felt fantastic about myself and  felt proud because of all the hard work I saw-the thought and preparation I had put into this. I didn’t interrupt him, didn’t manipulate his thoughts/feelings, I watched for verbal and visual cues, I was professional, I was writing, listening, talking and handling it well. I was thrilled to bits that I had a few initial questions that would make the interviewee reflect over past experiences. Hey! It’s really a challenge to get your interviewee to go back in time by over a year and relive that situation…

After the interview Anish appreciated me for my professionalism and that fuelled me with more energy. My next stop was the office, had to meet the admin team and explain my project to them. On my way, I kept thinking why I felt so confident and proud of myself and I realized its because I always shy-ed away from doing any project by myself. I work really well when I have a team with me. I know that I feel very uncomfortable working by myself. I feel shy and awkward talking to people about their emotions and getting them to tell their stories. I would not believe and have confidence in my ability to do it. So the fact that here I was, doing what I wanted to do and doing it well, was making me feel invincible (my favourite feeling J )

In the office I met Sagar Sukla and he mailed me his reflection- from the day he visited government officials in Khetri. I was elated- another story and a written one at that!! Brilliant! My wow-est moment of the day was sitting in the store room with the admin staff and telling them what I was planning to do. They seemed excited and more than willing to help me. Usually, a group like this can shut me up like a clam. But things were different- I was comfortable there, I spoke honestly and explained clearly without any stammering, I understood what they were saying and where they were coming from. It surprised me that I was actually having fun talking to them and listening to them!!

Next I spoke to Vikramji and explained the project and his role in it. I saw that he was excited and happy to hear that someone cares about his story and I remember feeling very warm and humbled by his positive response. After settling a date for our next meeting, I started packing my bag. It struck me then and I sheepishly reproduce those thoughts here-

ASP seems to have (afterall) helped me a lot. Today’s powerful planning- credit those 6 months of gruelling ASP, selling my idea to all these people learnt from ASP, this crazy ability to push myself- ASP again, listening to people, articulation of thoughts and feelings and being warm and sensitive- learnt from debriefs. Handling on field changes- ASP!! Taking responsibility for my learning- ASP.*

By 4.00 PM I was back in Ashoka to interview Ishrat.  After two hours of some wonderful conversation with her, I came out knowing that both the interviews have given me lovely stories to narrate. I was also able to see that as an interviewer my skills had improved during the course of the day. I seemed prepared for the interview and had prior knowledge of a few vital facts.

For e.g. I was able to question Ishrat - “ Your PR happened with Jhunjhunu fellows if I’m not wrong. How did you react when you were initially informed about this?”

By 7 PM I was exhausted!!! That headache became a little more prominent. I also learnt that honestly listening to someone’s speech is a highly energy consuming task. (Really empathizing with Shaila here)

So here I am( still as excited as I was in the morning), trying to pull an all nighter ‘cause ‘am pregnant with two wonderful stories. (Ishrat: brace yourself) J

Task for tomorrow: Remember: When you are talking to someone, love that person from all your heart. The connection you will form will be amazing…

ASP stands for Academic Support Program, which is what I do in the schools... This process is supposed to help the fellows develop their competencies

THE STORY I BRING TO YOU

I live in a place that once used to be a brothel. Someone, supposedly, died in here as well- the kitchen, to be precise. But no one is willing to tell me that story. I searched the net. Nothing there - just another dead end. But I don’t see how I could fathom seeing anything about Jhunjhunu (a town that I barely knew existed) on cyber space. But be warned, the false sense of excitement (if there is any left) will soon wear off…

I’ve been here for over half a year now and yes; I admit it at the very onset - I’m bored to death of it!! I feel like this town is my prison. Well, the only two things that keep me here are- A) The resemblance this town has to Mano Majara- Remember that village in A Train to Pakistan by Khuswant Singh? B) I feel a great sense of responsibility towards the government school kids who happen to be the reason for mecoming all the way from Bangalore.

On rare occasions I can see the dark humour behind the drab happenings here and on occasions rarer still, I manage to tell myself- “It is kind of funny how I came here with all these fantastic ideas… All that’s left now is dusty roads, rickety buses, frazzled fellows and identically farting Marwaris!!”

You still are hopeful. I can smell it. Very well, I will rack my memory for a decent story….Um…Where shall I start?

Err…how about from the very beginning?

I graduated with an Honours degree in English Studies, decided to pack my bags and head to Jhunjhunu, Rajasthan. My decision had led me to a 2yr fellowship rather than to college or to a job. I wanted to be a writer and I thought this fellowship would be an experience, no, an adventure in fact; that would give me all these marvellous stories to pen.

I was 20 then and was a man-hater, cocky, nerdy, temperamental, and pampered and spoilt. I had hardly ever travelled by myself. My first road trip with my friends had been disastrous; I was literally crying all the way back home. Boy, I was such a little girl then. Well, I am 21 now and a lot wiser. Despite all these short comings, I knew that one thing I wanted so bad was to be a writer and for that I was willing to work on anything… anything that would make writing a possibility for me.

Today, it’s been 7 months since the day I decided to follow my dreams and the path has obviously not been easy. If anything it has been novel and at times amusing but it largely remains torturous. Sometimes all I do is watch days zip past. Others days are worse, I sometimes here the clock ticking so slowly, as if it is aware of and enjoys the way my sensory abilities heighten. I can hear the housefly flap its wings, hear the crunch of food like gravel in my roommate’s mouth,  speech too becomes slurry enough giving even a novice ample time to do its phonetic transcription,you know, it’s like The Matrix- every goddam things S…L…O…W…S…. down.