Why Indians are Shy?

25 Aug
It was all in vain. I almost decided not to go and turn back for the eleventh time when I finally found myself standing outside the building where the auditions were supposed to be held. The merciless sun forced me to enter inside.
There was still a good half hour left before the auditions for a local play would begin but I could already feel my heart constantly trying to burst out of my chest in a rhythmic fashion. After a final visit to the bathroom, I landed in the corridor where presumably other people like me were waiting for their name to be called. (Not exactly other people like me as they were all ‘seasoned’ art and theater majors and me just a meager engineering major) I was glad that at least, these auditions were held in private in form of 1 on 1 sessions with the director as it saved me from making myself a fool in front of everyone but on the same hand it was bad to not be able to see how others are doing inside that sacred audition room – where your fate was decided in under 5 minutes.I paced up and down the corridor slightly avoiding the closed group of all the white students, maintaining my own proximity and wondering if I even looked good, in the first place. Shyness dripped like hot sweat from my soul, it could have flooded the floor if it were as real a thing as I imagine it to be inside us Indians among Goray people. Acting would be a secondary thing but first am I even presentable on stage, among those well figured and chisel faced white theater students? What must they be thinking, what’s a brownie Asian doing in here? There’s still time, perhaps I can turn back, shove the cellphone up my ear and leave the corridor in pretension of attending some important call. Through the corridor, out the door, into the free and lovely sun, away from the fear of auditions and the nervousness that they brought, I wanted to hide.

My name was called and I went in to feel slightly amused at how pleasantly the director shook hands with me, and made the entire atmosphere so comfortable as if I were his holy guest.

“So which year are you?” His eyes quickly scanned the sign up form I handed him immediately upon entering, but before I could answer he had managed to decipher my scribbling, “Oh I see, a graduate student! Engineering, hmm, interesting.”

I only nodded and smiled at this welcome reception, and tried to keep my answers as courteous as possible, nearly failing to hide my nervousness.

“So you were selected at the Shakespeare thing, nice, yeah I heard about it,” he continued to make comments and general questions as he read through the form when ultimately, “Alright. I’ll have you read this text for me. This is from the short story _ by _, have you read it before?”

“Yes, yes.” I nodded in fresh enthusiasm as I had done my homework, and after two silent readings, I read out loud the given three para’s, making sure to stress on the clauses and phrases I considered important. Though I screwed up badly the last clause at the end.

The director replied in a broad smile and said those words (which could be generic and perhaps were being said to every other actor that tried but nevertheless they made me write this post)

“That was lovely. Great, lovely.”

And when I thanked him for this, he added, “I will decide the cast by tomorrow but if not for this particular production, I highly encourage you to attend more auditions that are coming up this semester. Would you like me to add your email to the emailing list about those?”

“Yes, please, that would be great. I came to know about this by a lucky accident when I glanced at a clipping in a newspaper that was lying at somebody’s else desk yesterday. I’m so glad that I got this opportunity.”

“Wonderful! I’m not sure if you can take theater classes while being an engineering graduate but I’d definitely recommend you to get involved with us, the theater department, I’m sure we’ll have lot of opportunities for you in coming future,” he finished and allowed me to leave out of the room, in sort of a trance, through the corridor, out the heavy door and into the smiling sun, and I didn’t know why but all the way back I couldn’t stop asking myself how beautiful everyone and everything was.


Now, I am not at all expecting to hear back from them, because I sensed a form rejection there but the good part is I am feeling free, unrestrained from the limits that I had set for myself, and so glad that I did go and auditioned. Because I think I’ll have to try, at least a hundred times and perhaps more if I want to succeed. Same goes with all those stories that I send to editors across the globe; I have no other option but to try.

To try, try, try and not feel shy.

And those people who are winning in everything they pursue and getting acceptances where ever they submit themselves or their work, either they are limiting themselves to a too narrow a field or they are the ones who have chosen to play level “easy” in the setup menu of this game of life.

So, are you shy? Or did you try?

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Posted by on August 25, 2011 in Uncategorized


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