Well, this is indeed a tricky part of admissions to any course, which I am in absolute love with, to write and write. At times what is expected is a profile or simple write-up of why one needs the course in the concerned institute, or how we see ourselves after the course. I don’t want to sound too technical or too much of a know-it-all or teach here, How to write a purposeful Statement of Purpose.
It is indeed a joy and happiness when someone approaches you to help them with something. Way back into years, right from my first year of UG life, I had been this guy, who takes pleasure in anything related to writing, editing and translation. Trust me, had first hands-on experience in editing theses, research proposals (proposals???) research articles, write-ups, essays, resumes, CVs, SOPs.
Remember my Jun N, who is in UK, I remember the excitement when he first told me his plans to go abroad for a masters degree. All the time, we spent in discussing how the SOP should look, the construct, the importance or clarity, conviction and the coherence in the writing. And how he wanted me to sit with him all through the writing process, and it was 3 AM in the morning when he finished. “Bro, here it is, just work on this and change whatever you want to,” Giving me the total autonomy, he slept off. I was rather happy for him, because I took more time to persuade him to write one on his own, rather than going for a consultancy’s ready-made, here-we-serve-your-needs and thus killing the originality of the students. Honesty in Statement of purposes comes from writing what you’re and what you genuinely want to do in life, rather than mere impressive verbose talents
It is such a contagious happiness, when you hear people make it up to their dreams and live the life they imagined. Also it is more an inspiration for me to. May be this is how we grow up with people, seeing their dreams as your own, standing aside and sure by them, cheering up every move, those necessary pats and slaps when needed, and those pep-talks when in really deep-dumps and also the huge throwing up a party to celebrate.
Now I’m at home, looking through a couple of SOPs, and also it is more of a view to someone’s dreams, and I respect each, as I know they are too personal, It takes a lot of courage to actually open our dreams to someone. It is a loving experience to actually read them, help them create the one they need, I sit like that ultra-professional with a sharp HB and an eraser, a thoughtful-I’m-in-work look with an invisible Do-not-dare-to-disturb-me board thrown over me. I soulfully take efforts to just edit the language, the grammar and the mood of the write-up if needed and make the conscious effort to retain the Writer’s tone in it. And it is indeed difficult an effort.
I remember the senior R, indeed a best bhaiya, who often tells me that people take advantage of me, many a times I assured him, not so and I indeed love doing this, I feel people appreciate our work by simply giving us more work. I often think this way, “When there are so many people around, why would someone prefer you over others. It is a confidence that they place on us.” And just play by. The feeling of importance comes from making others feel important.
And when A, got his job, hey I prepared his Resume. And the phone-call, hey dude I made it and the following celebration in that Aavin milk booth, just chai, coffee, Milkova and cookies for rs 289/- and that show-off to my friends that I have a friend who treats his friends in Hotel Residency, a Posh-place in Coimbatore. Actually, that Aavin milk both is just next to the hotel. And this way, our next treats in CAG pride Restaurant and Jenny club went every time someone gets placed.
My talent for writing(sound too much though) goes back to my third standard, when I helped my desk mate D in writing a love-letter to his crush-our senior P, I was caught badly, as I tried to send that letter to her through the Moral Science book, which was accidentally the teachers copy. Hey I still have that letter with me, a very old, badly torn, battered and dog-eared corner of a page torn from the copy-writing book. And also there are few reminders of my talent such as messages that I come up with at times, randomly out of the blue. The text I sent to a friend who was on his first date, the frustrated writings in a boring lecture, the notes sent among the bench-mates, a porn-story I wrote, the first thriller novel, me and alter ego co-authored and of course my first and last love-letter(still in my sent-tems folder)
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