Milestones that Matter

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Hands joined and eyes closed, I stood nervously behind the podium. The crowd before me had parted from their seats respectfully. They stood waiting for a holy prayer to commence the auspicious ceremony. Poor them. They definitely weren't ready for the cacophony that was coming. My voice may just have sucked the auspiciousness out of the ceremony.

Well, that is what happens when you force someone to do something they're not good at. From off stage, a singer-aunty who sat beside me told me that I sang well. I smiled, searching for the pity in her eyes. Oh, I knew she was trying to be kind. Maybe there was a small part of me wishing she were telling the truth. But that hope was crushed the very next day at school. As ill-luck would have it, someone from my class had been present at the function. I was greeted with a bout of mocking laughter as I entered the classroom. Darn it. I was counting on having only strangers hearing my discordant voice.

Singing has never been my thing. Although, sure, I did put on a shawl on my head, pick up a shampoo bottle and have my own imaginary Hannah Montana concerts once. In fact, I've also performed planned and practised concerts with a bunch of my enthusiastic friends during the games period. We were eight, by the way. But even then, I knew that I had to be a background singer for our little concert to be presentable. 

So years later, after a painful last-minute prayer recitation in an office ceremony, I could tell that the aunty was lying to me. I could tell because I knew my limitations. But I wonder how many of the praises I've received till now were out of pity. How many of them were out of sheer courtesy? How many compliments were a cover to the bitter truth like that of the aunty's? It's difficult to tell the chaff from the grain. To tell the truth from the pretence.

Over the years of my writing, I've had both the chaff and the grain showered on me. I've let my intuition decide which is which. It's possible that they weren't always right. But I've allowed myself to accept some of them with pride. Like when someone texts me about a writing of mine that has moved them. Like when my mom tells me that my style has improved. Like when I roll my way back to Corinne's community after a long blogging hiatus. I consider each of them a milestone. 

A week ago, this dear blog found its way to Feedspot's list of Top 100 Indian Lifestyle Blogs. Wandering Wows stands in glory at the 22nd position. Yet another milestone that had me dancing in my room for a few minutes. Thankyou for the lift, Feedspot. You gave me something to smile about. 

Today, though I pat myself on the back for the accolades, I still struggle to pick out the genuine comments. Constructive criticism is much needed but difficult to find. (Unless, of course, you're a celebrity in twitter.) You cannot grow with false praises. You cannot grow with the truth untold. Honesty is something every artist looks out for. It may be hard to take sometimes, but it is a must to be taken. 

I would never venture to sing on stage thanks to the friends who laughed at me that day. It was a confirmation to the truth that I already knew, that it wasn't my cup of tea. Though I admit that I haven't always taken criticism well, I know that they have helped me. And I know that I need them. Stay sceptical of the praises and pay attention to the critics, I'd say. 

But in the end, your best assessment is done by yourself. You can best know where you stand and what you need to do. All else are mere guidance you can choose to opt.

So while I reach milestones in writing, I'm still going to pick that shampoo bottle up to sing away in my mono concert. My voice can survive in the privacy of my room if not the stage. I don't need to let it go. I'll instead use my awful singing to celebrate my writing. 

Now, there's an acknowledgement of two things in one go. I know where I stand. 

I know when I've reached a dead-end or a milestone that matters.

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