I was trying to write on humour and the exercise was turning out to be a nightmare. Four hours of sweat, toil, paper, ink and strands of hair pulled from my scalp had produced a final, typed copy of 417 words.
Glowing with pride and satisfaction, I punch in the e-mail address and dash off the copy. Then, I sit admiring myself in the mirror, practising my gracious smile that says: "Oh, it was but the work of a moment."
The phone's shrill ring jars me out of my idyllic world of narcissistic pride. The editor on the other end says: "We wanted something humorous; not an outpouring of your emotional attachment to the idea of humour."
Glumly, I hung up and realised an axiomatic truth that many aspiring writers are privy to.
Writing isn't easy. Writing on humour is far from easy. And writing a humorous piece is the most difficult of all.
Chewing on the tip of my fingernail, I contemplate on the various probable topics I could explore. Politics? Too common. Sports? Too limited. Religion? Too controversial. But everyday events? Yes! I would stun readers with my incisive insight into the mundane world of routine occurrences. Bold and intrepid, I would strip the serious facade off day-to-day happenings and expose the warm humour pulsating beneath the surface.
"Ahem. What humour?" queries a voice. Not on the phone this time, but from within my head. Startled and annoyed, I have to admit there doesn't seem anything funny in getting the daily supply of milk, leafing through the newspaper or buying groceries from the supermarket, standing in long queues to pay the bill.
Humour writers, like syndicated columnists and cartoonists, are always under pressure to produce the best. Although we laugh every day reading the comic strips, at the masterful execution of wit and at the satirical caricature of public figures, rarely do we appreciate the effort that goes into its production. I should know!
Monday, July 25, 2005
Teaching- My dream job
For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to teach. As far back as grade 6, I recall having said that i would become a teacher one day.That dream came true in the Summer of 2001.
A memorable year in many respects...2001.
The year I met my future husband....2001.
The year we were united in holy matrimony...2001.
The year I was awarded a Gold Medal for my Masters in English Literature...2001.
And, the year I began working....2001.
Through my students, I see new ideas,new approaches, new questions and further avenues to explore. The days in a teacher's life may be many things, but the one thing it can never be is Boring!
Looking back, I realise that the people I feel most indebted to are my parents, who never stood in the way of my dreams and my teachers, who always recognised my interests and allowed me to express myself.
So, to the teachers of this world, This one's for you.
A memorable year in many respects...2001.
The year I met my future husband....2001.
The year we were united in holy matrimony...2001.
The year I was awarded a Gold Medal for my Masters in English Literature...2001.
And, the year I began working....2001.
Through my students, I see new ideas,new approaches, new questions and further avenues to explore. The days in a teacher's life may be many things, but the one thing it can never be is Boring!
Looking back, I realise that the people I feel most indebted to are my parents, who never stood in the way of my dreams and my teachers, who always recognised my interests and allowed me to express myself.
So, to the teachers of this world, This one's for you.
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