Why Design? And My big break.

Source: https://zolostays.com/blog/mumbai-local-trains-101-a-complete-beginners-guide/

It was a hot summer afternoon in Mumbai. I had woken up early with butterflies in my stomach and doubt swirling in my head as I got ready in my interview best. It was a miracle that the creative director of a design firm had agreed to give me an interview. My first one ever. You see, I had no training as a designer whatsoever. I just knew I was one deep down. He must have seen the potential. It had been two years since I graduated with a degree in Mass Media and had been doing odd jobs here and there waiting for ‘my big break’.

In the train's ladies compartment, I leaned next to the open door, my favorite spot to ponder life, and also let the gusts of wind dry sweat of my body and those uncomfortably close around me. Today, I was replaying the last two years. I had downloaded pirated versions of lynda.com tutorials on photoshop and illustrator and spent hours teaching myself these design tools. I had then spent all of my summer creating fake design projects to build a portfolio. While my peers were out having fun, I had labored on gathering proof for what I knew inside but had nothing to show for. In the design market in India, without a design portfolio and art degree, getting an interview was a dream, let alone getting a job. I had reached out to people I had stalked through websites, yahoo forums and orkut communities (I know, remember those days?) to ask for feedback on a 'fake' portfolio. Some of them had seen me, and my talent past my untrainedness. Some had just pitied me and given me their easiest 2-cents. I took every cent of advice and edited and edited my work until I no longer knew what to change anymore.

I finally reach this huge creative studio. Loft-style space. You know spaces that evoke creativity. Think IDEO’s or Google’s offices. This one had a rickshaw on the ceiling, whiteboards, and big witty quotes in the black backboard and white lettering. Lots of plants, multi-colored pillows, and reading nooks. You get the idea. I see the many ‘designers’ working and milling about. Enviously, I think I wanna be there!

Right outside the office of the creative director was an umbrella basket and above it was a label - leave umbrellas and egos here. I chuckled. The love of using commonplace objects, norms, situations to make social commentary creatively was probably seeded then. I thought to myself - I like this guy already.

I enter a room when called. The guy who liked his people stripped of egos was a middle-aged Indian guy. Thick black-rimmed glasses shaped an ordinary face. A black T-shirt slimmed his evident love for desserts. His desk had a huge Mac monitor but nothing else. All around his office were many objects that clearly were meant to exude eclectism. A subtle scream saying “I am a designer dude who has made it. I am cool and shit!"

With minimalistic emotion and customary habit, he asks me to sit down. Why do you want to be a designer he asks without even looking at me? In my heart I hear - I just know I am one. Thinking that intuition is probably not the best response, I tell him - "Design comes naturally to me. How to communicate emotions in the simplest visual form is a challenge I am drawn to. I am here because I want to learn how to do that very well." He then clicks his mouse and pulls up my portfolio and turns his gigantic monitor towards me. My fake projects look faker on that huge screen. My color choices seem absurd here. I curse my family's desktop screen that resembles a pregnant head. "This portfolio of yours, I must say you have guts to send it in. It's all shit. Nothing about your work is simple, or creative".

It felt like I had just been physically assaulted. My body goes into full-blown panic and I am just about to burst out crying by shock as much as hurt. But maintain whatever dignity is left. He then looks away as if he is getting on with other more important things than my presence and as someone not worthy of even a proper dismissal, I start to get up to leave in less than 5 minutes of coming in. But this is my big break, remember? His last and lethal blow to me were these words: "Look, you are never going to be a designer. You just don't have it. People in the market have years of fine arts and other degrees. You don’t stand a chance. Be real and don't waste anyone’s time."

I left his room with my head spinning. He could have emailed me saying don’t come. Did he just get some pleasure out of shattering my dreams and self-esteem into a million pieces? On the way out, I see that umbrella basket. As if metaphorically picking up a long-abandoned ego I hear myself say to myself - I don't know how, but I am going to be the most extraordinary mother-fucking designer on this planet.

That day I learned - The person whose respect and rooting matter the most to you, is you. Today I am the Director of Design for an innovation lab and also the founder of The Social Innovation Collective.