Being Proud

Well this is a positive prompt which I would like to write on.

At the fag end of my life I am very proud of my achievements though to some they may not appear to be anything at all. Yet to me they are all very significant milestones in terms of the transformations these have brought about in my life and in me as a person.

From an extremely shy kid who had to rehearse a number of times what she had to say before opening her mouth even to a local shopkeeper to a very articulate person in workplace who did not fear to speak her mind, needed jumping over a lot many inner hurdles than one could imagine.

From getting intimidated to getting work done in a male dominated society again was not easily attainable.

The first half of my career was dedicated to the hospitality segment of the corporate entity I worked for. One of the duties entailed arranging transports along with personalized services for big guns.

The transporters are a class apart. In their households women are only seen and not heard. One of my female colleagues entrusted with fleet management once remarked that she had to ‘dress’ accordingly while visiting their ‘domain’.

They were small operators given to rough language and gruff behaviour. The service users were ready to complaint at the drop of a hat. It was some task seeking remedial action and alternate arrangements from them.

The hospitality segment was a tough training ground. I had to ensure comfort at the same time maintain balance between the regular service providers and troublesome consumers with onerous demands. We called them ‘sensitive zones’. They were big shots whose one comment could make or break you.

I learnt to be on my toes, be preemptive and proactive , to do boundary management, to keep a plan B ready if plan A failed and pass on even the harshest feedback the sweetest way to either side. Most of the times I was on the receiving end. I was also privy to a lot about which blabbering would have been catastrophic. I absorbed.

Thirteen years of ordeal hardened me up. What I picked up got embedded in my DNA. At times, my family still does not understand why I have this tendency to be up in arms for the worst, why I consider failure to be an intrinsic part of any or all situations, why I get into an investigative mode at the slightest derailment of a task or project.

However, this uncommon attitude has stood me in good stead while taking care of my mother. With divine blessing I have been able to avert and/or be surprisingly prepared to face unforeseen exigent situations.

My mother’s prolonged ailment was the biggest and hardest test of my life. I will not say I always passed with flying colours. No. But I learnt to take a grip on myself bit by bit, measure by measure. I made many mistakes, reposed faith in the wrong ‘uns, expected enormously from near and dear ones and time and again proved wrong. But it was also a constant lesson in being self reliant, self sufficient, resilient, and turning into a tough cookie day by day. ‘Oh! I could do it without outside help!’ was a serendipitous acknowledgement of my own ability on hindsight which egged me on to brave more obstacles.

Life is attempting to touch the shore of a roaring ocean. I do not know whether I have reached the so called safe haven but I have sure learnt to swim that too against the tides and got hold of a permanent anchor – that’s me!

As I write this post I realize the failures and mistakes were far more important and worthy of effusive toasts rather than the achievements which were just the outcomes of steps wrongly taken or missed. Had I chosen the easy way I might have had less to earn. Choosing the right course, which might not have always been smooth rides, did help sharpen my instincts, develop my intuitive skills and shape me into a bolder, more courageous, stronger and more vocal person that I am today.

I thank the Lord for the misfortunes He bestowed on me. It facilitated me to blossom into my full potentials.