One year at the Nation
One year ago, I sat waiting at the reception area of the Nation office. I can't remember what was going through my mind as the noises of the outside world kept away the fear I should have felt. Maradana was new to me. I always considered it this tucked away corner of Colombo that was best avoided. I didn't know the people at the office who kept walking past, laughing and talking with their friends. I sat there for a long time, and finally one of the ladies I met the previous day told me it was unlikely the 'boss' would be in that day and I might as well just start work. I was given the seat of a lady who was on leave, and my first job was to translate a story.
Since I was in grade nine, when I was maybe thirteen years, I had this dream to be a journalist. I had spoken with two of my mother's friends, both journalists, and decided it was the best job in the world. Somehow by the end of my school life, that dream had been pushed to the back of my mind. It didn't seem all that possible. Then I was introduced to Malinda Seneviratne, the editor of the Nation and I had a chat with him somewhere in October(I think). It was then that I first shared my stories with someone I know. A few months later he asked me to come for another chat on January 2. We spoke, he introduced me to the editor of Fine and then told me I start work the next day.
This is my first real job, and this is where I learnt about people and about life. There's more to learn, but I don't think any other field can teach you so much in such little time. People I learnt, always wear masks. People know, people see, people remember. People make mistakes, regret, correct themselves. But most of all the job taught me that first impressions are far from the truth.
I also learnt that everyone has a story to tell. Some say little. Others say a lot. I realized that there is always a story where there doesn't seem to be a story.
I stopped being punctual, stopped trying to even pretend I have a 'life' and realized that you cannot have real holidays. You are constantly thinking about office, about your stories, about people. I accepted that I would never stop feeling tired. My feet and head would never stop aching.
However, work also showed me that people aren't that bad. That through their patience, people will accept even the most shy and asocial people. For the first four months, I rarely spoke with people. I was silent and absent. However, slowly, I did manage to make friends, to love, to care and met some of the most amazing people. Yes, no names will be mentioned here. But that isn't because no one is worthy of being mentioned. Instead, they all are. For putting up with my laziness, my forgetfulness and my various excuses. For listening to me when I had issues, for knowing when I should be left alone. They helped in many ways, and never did I ever have to beg. They taught me, they showed me the way.
Last year I didn't know where life would take me. The plan was to work two or three days a week for a month and then study law. One year later, I'm yet to start studying, but from the first real responsibility of taking care of the crossword, I now take care of Free, write stories, plan pages and do so much more. Yes, there's a whole lot more to learn, so many more steps to take. But this one year at the Nation, there are no regrets.
Since I was in grade nine, when I was maybe thirteen years, I had this dream to be a journalist. I had spoken with two of my mother's friends, both journalists, and decided it was the best job in the world. Somehow by the end of my school life, that dream had been pushed to the back of my mind. It didn't seem all that possible. Then I was introduced to Malinda Seneviratne, the editor of the Nation and I had a chat with him somewhere in October(I think). It was then that I first shared my stories with someone I know. A few months later he asked me to come for another chat on January 2. We spoke, he introduced me to the editor of Fine and then told me I start work the next day.
This is my first real job, and this is where I learnt about people and about life. There's more to learn, but I don't think any other field can teach you so much in such little time. People I learnt, always wear masks. People know, people see, people remember. People make mistakes, regret, correct themselves. But most of all the job taught me that first impressions are far from the truth.
I also learnt that everyone has a story to tell. Some say little. Others say a lot. I realized that there is always a story where there doesn't seem to be a story.
I stopped being punctual, stopped trying to even pretend I have a 'life' and realized that you cannot have real holidays. You are constantly thinking about office, about your stories, about people. I accepted that I would never stop feeling tired. My feet and head would never stop aching.
However, work also showed me that people aren't that bad. That through their patience, people will accept even the most shy and asocial people. For the first four months, I rarely spoke with people. I was silent and absent. However, slowly, I did manage to make friends, to love, to care and met some of the most amazing people. Yes, no names will be mentioned here. But that isn't because no one is worthy of being mentioned. Instead, they all are. For putting up with my laziness, my forgetfulness and my various excuses. For listening to me when I had issues, for knowing when I should be left alone. They helped in many ways, and never did I ever have to beg. They taught me, they showed me the way.
Last year I didn't know where life would take me. The plan was to work two or three days a week for a month and then study law. One year later, I'm yet to start studying, but from the first real responsibility of taking care of the crossword, I now take care of Free, write stories, plan pages and do so much more. Yes, there's a whole lot more to learn, so many more steps to take. But this one year at the Nation, there are no regrets.
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