The First Job - By the water cooler Contest!

Submitting this one for "By the water cooler contest " at Parul's who is an extremely clever writer and author of the hilarious " Bringing up Vasu". By the water cooler is her second book , of which i hope to get an autographed copy!


Edited to add : I won the contest and have recieved Parul's book!!!

The slight drizzle is a misty shroud over the road that stretches to the end of the horizon. Shades of green spill over to the sidewalks, tiny droplets of rain dangling dangerously from the tips of the leaves. A tall minaret piercing the abundant blue sky languishes in the mid-morning shower.  A lone girl teeter s slightly as the wind snatches her colorful umbrella.  My eyes glaze over as I gaze out through the glass wall, reveling in the sudden moment of quiet as the clutter of thoughts in my mind pause for a second.

The office with its with its plain white walls, huge windows with cane curtains,  the quiet wooden furniture and the  whirring of the fan above , seemed weirdly familiar as I walked in first, a strange flutter in my heart that hung between nervousness and excitement .

It seemed like yesterday that I stood amidst the miling crowd in the colorful campus, wondering if I’d ever fit in among the confident, careless pack whom I eyed with genuine admiration.  Time was a blur and I transformed from the innocent and gentle eighteen year old into a stubborn, arrogant and most irritatingly smug twenty two year old that I am now.

Yet, as I stood at the door of the busy design studio, life came to a full circle again. I looked at the busy architects, the bright computer screens and the bustling efficiency, and felt the familiar pang. I wondered if I was truly the missing the  piece in this puzzle.  Would I fit in?

I was shown to the workstation at the far end of the studio, right next to glass wall that looked out at the road below.  The view that was soon to be my refuge and a source of endless fascination in the days to come. The long road to which I would ask directions, to which I would speak my fears and which would calm me with its almost mystical silence.

I am slowly getting to know the people that create harmony within the bustle.  From the sarcasm of a good humored cynic to the deep silence of a thoughtful mind, my colleagues fascinate me.  The work, unlike anything that I have seen in college, baffles me. Most often, I am left most helpless with a bruised ego and a new challenge.

Perhaps it is only well, that my edges are smoothened, for only smooth pieces fit in perfectly.  Maybe the magic wand of time will transform me again, for I realize that the only antidote to the craftiness of the world around is wisdom.  And just maybe, I will turn into the graceful, sophisticated lady that my ideal life plan intended me to be.

For now, I will just gaze out at this road for a little longer and learn the ways of reality.

And in real life, caterpillars always turn into butterflies.