A Writer's Reward

In the last three days, I have been called a lecher by two girls. They were parallel flings and coincidentally both fell apart almost the same time. Let the readers be informed that there was no physicality involved. It was a misreading of my intentions that led to estrangement. Well, I am not depressed at all. I was cognizant of such a glorious end from the beginning.

Flings move onto being love affairs provided the prospects aren't treated as human resources. But, people interest me only so long as a sense of mystery surrounds them. Having proceeded in the right direction, out of experimentation, I take the wrong steps and invite a doom to a relationship. But, I don't regret the disaster because now I am a writer who welcomes even the untoward with open hands. It's just another fortress decamped after a raid!

Now, when people narrate the sorry incidents of their lives, they pledge me to secrecy and to strictly desist from making their tale a subject of my writing ambition. I am seen as a threat to their private lives. I have people telling me that a writer can never be a good friend.

A writer wants to outlive the variety of experiences that life offers and freaks out at the possibility of infinite more. From feeling love for a stranger to feeling repulsion for the dearest one, are feelings that again display amazing variety in themselves. Each strand of emotion has to be carefully observed before getting it down to writing.

In a fling that rises from infatuation, or, may be, even lust, a writer scopes out the emotional landscape to plant his experiences and later reap them in his writings. He accepts the paradoxes of life. He doesn't rule out that lust and love could simultaneously exist or even that one can be present without the other coming into picture.

This attitude could be perceived as coldness. It's not coldness but an ability to scorch oneself in the sun and gaze at it steadily before giving rise to a perfect portrait of the blazing sun. A writer stakes his image, suffers neglect, goes against the dictates of his conscience, roots out the desire to be loved. It's not all that easy. You will often have words like lecher, egoistic, obstinate, callous attributed to you. All this is the reward of your commitment to writing. If you have never been framed for such behaviour, you have not taken up the vocation whole-heartedly yet.
(417 words)

Cover Letter to Google

If passion is what counts to make it into Google, then I am a monument of passion in the field of my interest. Going by the testimonials and the penchant for talent that Google speaks of, I decided not to exaggerate my professional flair over my personal talent. Google would be the best judge of my suitability for the role of xxxx when I am given an opportunity to prove it.

My academic career speaks little of my passion for language. I did not fare well as an engineering student. But, all that I learnt was utilized in breaking the intellectual moulds that mind so often gets into when ideas stop flowing by or a homogeneity of ideas narrows its vision. I have a strong philosophical interest and my education just served to broaden my philosophical outlook. I resist overdose of facts, and, at the first cognizance of facts attesting truth and easing comprehension, I stop pursuing them. I distinguish between curiosity, which is vain, and inquiry, which is fruitful.

Language holds a special charm for me. I call it a science of meaningful expression. Deriving emotional value out of language is a connoisseur's delight. In my writings, interspersed over the years, I have been trying to harness this aspect of language. My blogs are an example of this.

Working in a professional environment helped me bring precision to my writing. Technical writing made me keenly aware of the simple style of writing and I came full circle from long-winded constructions to appreciating simplicity. I owe a lot to the company I am currently working for. Working here, I felt that technology is the second miracle accomplished by man after God-realization.

And, now, I wish to work with people who are pushing the technology frontier further ahead. My ardency is the most trusted reference I can provide.
(309 words)

Office Romance

Love passes through many phases from filial love to parental love. Of all the phases, romance is the youth of love. Lifestyle changes may have trimmed romance to its bare minimum but the charm it holds is undimmed by either career pursuits or the dictates of professionalism. Wherever goes man, romance trails along. And, in my case, the rigours of workplace only added to its tenacity.

Being bound to corporate decorum, workplace romance never gets into the excesses of courtship. It is like a dew drop that perishes in the warmth of work and settles again in the moments of leisure. This is what makes it is so agreeable. The decorum and discipline tone it up.

My hesitating steps ultimately took a leap of courage. Luckily, I landed safe. This time there were no wordy traps laid, no systematic plan of action. I was full of energy that takes one over when failure is most certain. The lover in me was playing the last game of the evening in the hope that he will have a sweet tale for many nights to come. But, night followed day.

She was favourable - in the language of a sailor waiting for the winds to unfurl his sails. The company infrastructure came handy in striking this chord of friendship. It all grew from anonymous pings on chat. Her acceptance of my friendship was vital for my confidence that was going down in years that were zero on opportunity and achievement.

Workplace romance isn't always a smooth sailing. It has to be done hiding from the gaze of other colleagues peeping into your chat window. Constant vigil is the price one pays for a fortune. Unfortunately, all your alertness cannot deceive your neighbour who quickly sees how her movements guide your actions. You never leave your desk while she is at her's. Your time to socialise is when she isn't around. Only a moment ago you were hungry, asking people to join for lunch and the moment she is at her seat your hunger suddenly vanishes. You catch up with her, munching cookies and chips.

But, it's all worth it. The theatricality of ignoring each other's presence in a crowd and exchanging the sweetest smiles when meeting in a vacant lift has a joy of its own. Observing her facial expressions at every message I send across sitting cubicles away is even more exciting, although what I get to see is only her cheeks bulge in smile from the screen of her loose hair. When I told her the of this conquest of my side-glances, she shied away by placing her palm on her cheek. Isn't it all worth it?

My hunt for a new job has hit a sudden low and job satisfaction is back again. Every task is interesting as long as she is around. Retaining her in the company would mean retaining me (a word to the HR).
(486 words)