I had been caught off guard when someone had told me that he or she had been a fan for years.”Thank you,” I had said with trepidation and awkward laugh and, “I hope meeting me in person would not be a disappointment.” What should I have said? How should I have reacted? On the third incident, the awkwardness had lessened but the anxiety had magnified. The thoughts of having to live up to anyone’s perceived view of me are intimidating.
While composing these bird’s-eye-view posts I realised I should probably have taken notes from the year’s interesting events. 2014 had reeked of sales pitch, personal branding and image management.
On a national scale, there were general election for the house of representatives and presidential election. Campaigns, as usual, were marked with self-glorification, self-commodification, personalities marketing and you-named-it gimmicks. No wonder there though. However, I found it disappointing that a couple of supposedly balanced media and journalism had been used to endorse and discredit one or another.
“Advertising is the very essence of democracy.” Anton Chekhov
On personal level, I had experienced awe in a series of lectures and speeches, for wrong reasons. I had been inspired while listening to some speakers. Their choice of words, sentences, and narratives had been loaded with vainglory. Name dropping, self-attributions and all neat tricks had been weaved into fine vanity performances. I wondered if they had ever listened to themselves talking in such manner and felt the same awe I had felt. I sincerely seek refuge from ever ever ever treading on the same path.
The year 2014 also saw the ramification of a house of cards, built upon grandiose promises, burning down in flames. These overestimation, misplaced can-do attitude and reckless positivity had veered off direction and ended up in a series of games of blames. I am exaggerating obviously, but the casualties had been people near and dear to me, whose fighting spirit and opportunities have been stripped off.
To me an unnecessary action, or shot, or casualty, was not only waste but sin. T. E. Lawrence
I mourned deeply.