The leap of faith.
When I decided I do not want to crunch numbers for the rest of my life, it was a hard decision to make.
I wanted to write, tell stories.
Well, who pays writers? My father, the cynicism gene in me is inherited from him, snubbed me down saying, "who will read what you have to write?"
You see, my dad has always been the one person whose validation I have always wanted but never got.
So when you tell him that you no longer want to pursue chartered accountancy, a sure-shot well paying career because "you want to write", all hell breaks loose.
But as they say, sometimes you have to take that leap of faith and follow your heart. Life is too short not to take chances, especially when you feel so strongly about something.
So when the opportunity of being a business journalist came by two years back, I grabbed it with both my hands and my legs and everything I could manage.
While this was not essentially the sort of writing I was looking for, it did help me hone my skills. From my first copy, which was kind of disastrous, to put it mildly, to now, when most go without any major edits, I believe I have come a long way, even if I say so myself.
I had to convince my father to let me take up this opportunity because if it doesn't work out, at least I will not regret for the rest of my life that I didn't even make an effort. Better I blame myself for the failure than him for not even letting me try.
Of course he has mellowed down a little since. While he may not essentially accept me as a writer, he does feel proud (according to sources aka mother) whenever he lets his friends know what I do for a living. Every few days he asks me to type out a text for him or sometimes a mail for his boss (without really acknowledging the fact the "writer" part of me there) and mom and I have a good laugh about it afterwards. (He still gets as excited as I do when my story gets published in the paper, especially with a byline (they are hard to get by) :D)
I have gained back the lost confidence. I have some direction in life. It may not be in the best of shapes, but it is shaping up well. I am hopeful of future. I want to believegood better things are stored in for me.
Some of the lowest of low times don't make a lot of sense when we are going through them, but in hindsight, they all fit into place. As if those things were meant to happen at that time.
At times, all it needs is a little courage. A courage to make that choice. Of letting go or holding on. It is all about the choice.
And as you ponder over your options, have a look at this video?
When I decided I do not want to crunch numbers for the rest of my life, it was a hard decision to make.
I wanted to write, tell stories.
Well, who pays writers? My father, the cynicism gene in me is inherited from him, snubbed me down saying, "who will read what you have to write?"
You see, my dad has always been the one person whose validation I have always wanted but never got.
So when you tell him that you no longer want to pursue chartered accountancy, a sure-shot well paying career because "you want to write", all hell breaks loose.
But as they say, sometimes you have to take that leap of faith and follow your heart. Life is too short not to take chances, especially when you feel so strongly about something.
So when the opportunity of being a business journalist came by two years back, I grabbed it with both my hands and my legs and everything I could manage.
While this was not essentially the sort of writing I was looking for, it did help me hone my skills. From my first copy, which was kind of disastrous, to put it mildly, to now, when most go without any major edits, I believe I have come a long way, even if I say so myself.
I had to convince my father to let me take up this opportunity because if it doesn't work out, at least I will not regret for the rest of my life that I didn't even make an effort. Better I blame myself for the failure than him for not even letting me try.
Of course he has mellowed down a little since. While he may not essentially accept me as a writer, he does feel proud (according to sources aka mother) whenever he lets his friends know what I do for a living. Every few days he asks me to type out a text for him or sometimes a mail for his boss (without really acknowledging the fact the "writer" part of me there) and mom and I have a good laugh about it afterwards. (He still gets as excited as I do when my story gets published in the paper, especially with a byline (they are hard to get by) :D)
I have gained back the lost confidence. I have some direction in life. It may not be in the best of shapes, but it is shaping up well. I am hopeful of future. I want to believe
Some of the lowest of low times don't make a lot of sense when we are going through them, but in hindsight, they all fit into place. As if those things were meant to happen at that time.
At times, all it needs is a little courage. A courage to make that choice. Of letting go or holding on. It is all about the choice.
And as you ponder over your options, have a look at this video?
from https://housing.com/
1 comment:
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