Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Tell me something about yourself

So ,tell me something about yourself :the answer for years to come, and what should have been.Armchair style.A million paper-tigers clap.

The stallions who run in my head don't have a stable to their name.Our stables are Universities under the stars and the school of hard knocks . They are wild, and have run across many plains and drunk from many pools.They have seen sights, and they and in turn me, believe that if the eyes are the window to my soul, we should see selectively.The stallions have been made to run through race courses with a fixed time-lap before the race ends, and the hooves checked by the experts. The horse-shoe with least wear and tear are what I have kept in front of you as testimonies that I have run the normal paths too.I have chewed from fields of grass where the word on the street was that they would serve one well, and the stallions have also wandered into fields where rude signs said to keep away.They too did not disappoint occassionally.

Yes, you did not expect such an answer.Yet I was expecting this question. The pattern which I am to be tested upon are available in endless rows of books with the title "How to ace an interview", online forums are patterned with endless pages of minuiate. Don't look hither in puzzlement as to what you have done to deserve this. I am telling who I am not in terms of the paper currency to my name, or my ten favorite authors or what my scholastic achievements are : if these are what define me or you would like me to pigeon-hole into, we could have walked many miles and spoke many words but not have really heard what I said.You look puzzled , but my thoughts are clear. You seek clarity of expression, a sense of purpose to all of this. You are already fumbling for the question : "What can you tell me about Argentina", and seek if the stallions can recollect if they have run across the savanna.No , I do not recollect the type of the grass in savanna, and neither would it be possible for me to tell if I know the name of Eva Peron's husband. Ask me however if I saw Argentina crushed by Germany in the football match of a recent calendar, and I will sing you an epic.

I can be sculpted and molded many times both by the stallions running and the extensions by way of hands and feet moving, although not in infinite measure.The mind is supposed to be more open to the sights, sounds and the experiences in years past than in years in future. I am a lesser order sponge , I can whistle ten times before I take a breath.

Lest you think I cannot do the tango to the reasonable tunes of our time : I am team-worker(sic), I am a perfectionist, I can work under pressure, I have been awarded the best worker medal, I have exhibited leadership qualities at school and workplace,and I like to read,especially books with the title:"
How to ace an interview".


Aby Johnson said...

P.S: To be perfectly fair, the person answering the questions him(/her)self does not always get it right to the question :"Tell me something about yourself". Today's Economic Times(July 9 2010, Mumbai edition") in the article titled:"No Freudian logic: Impress,dont offend your interviewer " has this anecdote:

"An IIM-B professor recalls how a candidate was asked the typical question: Tell us something about yourself. The candidate launched into great detail about his family,and when he finally came to himself,one of the panelists said,We have not called you here for breeding purposes."

Venky said...

Lovely post..U have an amazing flair with words. I wonder why you dont write much. Loved the stallion metaphor..

Bibaswan said...

Beautiful piece...really awesome...dude you really have a flair. RESPESCT :)