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The Indigenius' Den by Ankit Kumar is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.5 India License.
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Thursday, August 14, 2008

The Wait!

The restlessness, the nerves, the shaky fingers,

Your neck not used to that very tight tie—

You may look good – it is only a façade –

To the fact that there’s a storm brewing inside!

You sit, looking helplessly at the hordes of people around,

Many come over to you –

“Congrats!”, “All the Best!”,“Good Luck!”

Are all that sound!

Finally your name is called,

You go in – considering it the opportunity of a lifetime;

The person at the other end of the table smiles at you –

You might seem at ease, but, again, it’s only an appearance.

Fingers cold, mind numb, heart racing,

You answer a bagful of questions.

Dodging the difficult ones –

Blowing to smithereens the ones you’re sure of!

The Interviewer – or the Executioner?

Finally decides it’s enough –

You get up hoping it had lasted longer,

Wondering if you had done your best.

A firm handshake does act as a cherry on the cake,

But, it can’t undo the mistakes you might have made.

You rejoin the crowd outside—

And, the seemingly endless wait begins… again!