The Award and all that…
AWARD PROCESSING
AUG 10, 2007 - FIRST OF ALL, this isn’t an acceptance speech, so those of you that are dreading my waxing nostalgic about – among others – the silver-haired grandfather who sat me on his knee and pored over Reader’s Digest word lists or the stooped English teacher who encouragingly read out my essays to the rest of the class – relax! (And for what it’s worth, thank you silver-haired grandfather and stooped English teacher.) But I did want to thank all of you who’ve left extremely kind messages, reading some of which has left me far happier than receiving the National Award.
Not that it hasn’t been great seeing my name in the papers. Reports that astronomers around the world have been scratching their heads over an oddly overweight Chennai-ite in the lunar vicinity are entirely true. (I’m over the moon – geddit?) But a lot of people seem to have this impression that this Award has come my way as a result of an all-seeing Central Government eye that tracks film reviews in publications all around the country and then picks the reviewer most deserving. And that’s so not the case.
The National Awards are a competition. And as is the wont with competitions, you’ve got to enter first. You’ve got to throw your hat in the ring, submit your name for consideration, so on and so forth. And then a panel picks a winner. So for all you know – and theoretically speaking – I may have been the only one who bothered to send in samples of my reviews, while, say, the poor shlub writing dazzling critiques at The Bhubhaneshwar Despatch and Courier (and who hasn’t yet discovered the miraculous access to eyeballs that is blogging) could be far more deserving.
And the competitive element of the National Awards also means that the awardees are a result of the jury’s inevitable subjectivity. All this considered, my IndiBloggie win meant a lot more because, there, large numbers of people went out of their way and voted for me – not because I asked to be considered, but because they considered me worthy. These are the people whom I write for, the people who read me – and therefore the people whose endorsement means more.
I didn’t mean to get all Sally Field on you – dear readers – but the outpouring of congratulatory messages, along with the number of people who took it for granted that this award just happened to come my way, made me want to write this. And none of this means that I’m not going to enjoy my fifteen minutes of fame, thanks to the National Awards committee. Has their decision changed my life as I know it? Fuck yeah!