Proud to be whoever-that-is-I-am

I got a call from a longtime back school friend who has proudly been a tailor for 11 years. “A master tailor at Raymonds,” he said which made me sit up and think if I would ever be as proud to have a measuring tape slung over my neck, a chalk in one hand, a scissors in the next. But these are the periphery. I am sure he doesn’t look at it this way. From the outside. His gaze has long past gone over the much obvious - shirting and suiting tacks and piles - takkas as we call them to the more esoteric: the designs, fit and satisfaction in the eyes of the customer after creating a well-worth piece of stiched fabric. It is a moment to be proud. We are both creators. In fact, he can even talk to his consumer and see the glint of smiling satisfaction. I will have to make do with the dreary statistic (as, when and if). But we both hang up our wares proudly in front of us on mannequins first, a nip there, a tuck here and then see how the actual person would try it on.

Also, his pride was palpable and rarely have I come across people even with more ’sophisticated’ jobs talking with this much pride. If the people are good, the processes suck. If the processes are good, the management sucks. If the management is good, the work sucks. If the work is good, the commute sucks. We never have an absolute chime in our sentences when talking of our work. So, my first instinct to Hemant’s absolute pride was lash-fluttering disbelief. But then when I quickly came to terms with it, I congratulated him and joined in this so- rare-a celebration of one’s work.

Ah, Proud to be whoever-that-is-I-am and Completely so.