The word 'rigor mortis' has kept haunting me ever since my JC interview. Hardly ever in life have I faced a situation where in a crucial position, I have been totally blank. I had never heard of this before, and it took me a while to even get what it sounds like, especially coming from an interviewing Supreme Court judge. I didn't know back then at the time of the interview, that not having heard about a term like this would hurt me like a bitch later to find out that I didn't end up getting a clerkship. But then again, I thought, if there are people judging others not on the basis of whatever they've done till now in life, not counting in the possibility that a person may 'know' things later in life as long as the person can go one up against the same judge on pure logic, but deciding someone's career based on him knowing/not knowing what 'rigor mortis' means, what's the point of working with such judges! Thus, I reconciled myself, in the comfort of my illusionary ego and the company of those other fellow human beings, including a senior advocate, who wouldn't know what rigor mortis means, or whether a criminal court can appoint a receiver or not, but only till I met a certain college senior, who was like, "What?! How can you not know what rigor mortis means?". And it wasn't sarcasm. An honest expression of surprise at the lack of my worth in not knowing what 'rigor mortis' means! And this happened with more seniors whom I know and cared to tell my story to. It made me realize, that it's all too easy to rubbish something or someone off and pretend to be in an illusion of supremacy, but there shouldn't be any excuses for any sort of failure. Agreed that bad performances happen in interviews, and a person cannot possibly know everything that exists. But, one can at least prevent himself/herself from shutting out possibilities of growth by being honest, and without ego. Oh my god! I think I just had a humbling experience!
Still remain a non-clerk though, watching others, one from every college, go past, only wishing if I had a bad CLAT score 5 years back, and was in any other college, where I could have cried foul about the 'NLU bias', and gotten a preference over others like the present me in this. I need another humbling experience soon. Opportunity cost is slowly setting its teeth on my rotting yet tender sweet cake of happiness, I can't let it have the cake and eat it too. Who can save me right now? Oh wait, I see parents, girlfriend, family, extending a life-saving jacket to me, diving in the freezing ocean herself to swim up to me to give it, going through more pain than me. I have to swim somehow to stop that, I need to get to the boat myself, I need to swim. How do I learn, I am all alone. I either learn it myself, or wait to see people I care about suffer in order to comfort me. I need my passion to keep me alive. What is it? I see a lush green field, a rectangular turf pitch, I see myself facing fast ruthless, killer bouncers from Curtley Ambrose in Perth, and I know what I need to do. I just need to make sure I don't get out. I can't think of hitting sixes when the ball is new and I am facing chin music. I know I need to just concentrate, play my best game, and just hang on there, be on the pitch, batting. I can only score if I am patient and diligent, when I pace my innings. I want to hit a 300 on the first day itself, but I need to know that I am batting on WACA, facing the scariest of bowlers, not on a flat track facing Sreesanth with an old ball. A boundary hit right now will be as good as a 50 otherwise, and even if it takes 50 balls to open my account, by the time the day finishes, I'd be close to a 100, with eyes so well set that they see a football, and feet gliding around, hitting the old ball coming on the bat well. In the end, the greatest of innings are all played in challenging conditions, not on flat tracks.
If given a choice, 99% batsmen would want to bat on flat tracks without any grass, typically in the sub-continent. But then, globally, hardly any player has received as much respect and adoration as Rahul Dravid, because I am sure, he'll choose the grassiest, and bounciest, and fastest of tracks, or even a 5th day pitch in India playing spin. There is always a choice, but would you hit sixes like Chris Gayle at Chinnaswamy against Mitchell Marsh's timid bowling and get bored in a couple of matches, or rather face the chin music at Perth just to enjoy the process of survival and then come on top of it. I guess, the courts are enchanting me again. I don't care about the money right now at least. I'm just too hungry to slog at work, can't wait to get an appearance, can't wait to argue before those same judges, can't wait to feel the pressure and nervousness, can't wait to manage in very limited means, can't wait to save up, use up, solve problems, make others happy, and be an advocate!
Still remain a non-clerk though, watching others, one from every college, go past, only wishing if I had a bad CLAT score 5 years back, and was in any other college, where I could have cried foul about the 'NLU bias', and gotten a preference over others like the present me in this. I need another humbling experience soon. Opportunity cost is slowly setting its teeth on my rotting yet tender sweet cake of happiness, I can't let it have the cake and eat it too. Who can save me right now? Oh wait, I see parents, girlfriend, family, extending a life-saving jacket to me, diving in the freezing ocean herself to swim up to me to give it, going through more pain than me. I have to swim somehow to stop that, I need to get to the boat myself, I need to swim. How do I learn, I am all alone. I either learn it myself, or wait to see people I care about suffer in order to comfort me. I need my passion to keep me alive. What is it? I see a lush green field, a rectangular turf pitch, I see myself facing fast ruthless, killer bouncers from Curtley Ambrose in Perth, and I know what I need to do. I just need to make sure I don't get out. I can't think of hitting sixes when the ball is new and I am facing chin music. I know I need to just concentrate, play my best game, and just hang on there, be on the pitch, batting. I can only score if I am patient and diligent, when I pace my innings. I want to hit a 300 on the first day itself, but I need to know that I am batting on WACA, facing the scariest of bowlers, not on a flat track facing Sreesanth with an old ball. A boundary hit right now will be as good as a 50 otherwise, and even if it takes 50 balls to open my account, by the time the day finishes, I'd be close to a 100, with eyes so well set that they see a football, and feet gliding around, hitting the old ball coming on the bat well. In the end, the greatest of innings are all played in challenging conditions, not on flat tracks.
If given a choice, 99% batsmen would want to bat on flat tracks without any grass, typically in the sub-continent. But then, globally, hardly any player has received as much respect and adoration as Rahul Dravid, because I am sure, he'll choose the grassiest, and bounciest, and fastest of tracks, or even a 5th day pitch in India playing spin. There is always a choice, but would you hit sixes like Chris Gayle at Chinnaswamy against Mitchell Marsh's timid bowling and get bored in a couple of matches, or rather face the chin music at Perth just to enjoy the process of survival and then come on top of it. I guess, the courts are enchanting me again. I don't care about the money right now at least. I'm just too hungry to slog at work, can't wait to get an appearance, can't wait to argue before those same judges, can't wait to feel the pressure and nervousness, can't wait to manage in very limited means, can't wait to save up, use up, solve problems, make others happy, and be an advocate!
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