Tag: postaday

We are who’s around us

Look around. There’s immense strength and courage everywhere. A tiny stem that bears flowering petals, a fragile cocoon that encases a butterfly, a slender deer that bounds about the forest, navigating barks and branches in search of kith and kin… determination is ubiquitous.

Humans are the same. Although ego and hatred thrive amidst our society, there’s also love, kindness, and incredible willingness to help each other out. I was at my ancestral village a few days ago. My parents were moving there from the city and I was visiting to help shift. The entire village showed up to help us set up our house, organise our things, and to show us around. They shared more than their meals with us—they narrated stories of years gone by, explained ways of their current lifestyle, dropped a few tips to survive a boring summer afternoon, and even showed us their favourite walking routes.

In return, all they expected from us was a genuine smile and amiable companionship. They wanted nothing more than good neighbours. Their sincerity, as electricity, surged through me. I felt intense affection towards the villagers, and I knew then that I’d behave the same towards them. 

That’s when I realised that their kindness in helping strangers and resilience during trying times carried over to me, strengthening me and motivating me from within.

And like the crack of morn, it dawned on me: I draw motivation and courage from those who surround me. My choice of company can keep me going or allow me to give up hope and mope. It’s my choice.

Like a mutual relationship, we all exchange goodness with each other. One creature’s success motivates another, and one creature’s ability to face challenges carries over to another. We all hold such great power over each other. 

In a way, our entire world is an interconnected web of shared fortitude.

Rite of passage

Sawyer tried console himself as he looked around his home. Scattered all around were leaves, twigs, and damp sand. Avoiding his eyes, his wife swept the trash away, mumbling to herself as she did so.

She was too afraid of saying anything that’d ruffle him. He’d had a rough time as it is, and coming from her, even the undeniable truth would only irritate him further.

Unable to bear the ringing silence, “I’m so sorry!” he cried breaking down. “I thought it was time.”

His wife sighed in silence. “Maybe it’s a rite of passage to farming. Cultivating premature crop.”

Drink to me only…

The best thing about dining out—apart from the fancy interior and fine food—is the classy glasses. Add a straw and it makes me feel extra pampered—like a child.

My fellow diner was a colleague I didn’t know much about. We’d travelled together for a work event and had to share a meal one evening. And our choice of beverage, much like us, was so different. It was a nice moment of contrasting liquids.

liquids

Evolution of a copywriter

All the world’s a stage
And all the men and women corporate players
They have their exits and their entrances
And one copywriter in their time plays many parts,
Their acts being many stages. At first, landing page writer,
Whining and sucking up to search engine’s demands.
Then the musing copywriter, with a wonder
And unsure morning face, creeping like snail
battling the block. And then the reviewer,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful look
of enduring unendearing copy. Then a soldier,
The editor—full of strange rules, wired like a DJ,
Unperturbed, irritable, excited all in quick succession,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the manager’s good books. And then a senior,
In fair round belly with experience underneath,
With eyes bloodshot trying shoes of formal cut,
Full of wise wit and modern puns;
And so they play their part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and pushback chair,
With spectacles on nose and munchies on side;
The youthful curiosity well satisfied, in a world growing
bigger than ad copy, evolving into testing,
Turning toward marketing, managing social
media and listening. Last scene of all,
That topples this strange eventful history,
Is second copywriting and mere simplicity,
Sans typos, sans click-baits, sans vanity metrics—well, almost.

It’s been almost five years since I started working as a copywriter. And during that period, I’ve had to play many different roles within my team. I was wondering how a copywriter is also a content marketer, a social media manager, advertising writer, script writer, technical writer, creative writer, and so much more, when I remembered one of my all-time favourite poems. The connection seemed only too obvious.