Hey all!
So my first choice university in the US said that I could turn in a supplemental essay if I wanted to, so I wrote one! Please let me know what you think! I'd like to turn it in by tomorrow!
Thank you so much!!
I have always been besan, a plain Indian flour, bound to the taste of whatever is being made. I remain hidden under the crisp succulency of red onion, and even more so under the rich sweetness of jaggery. While the spice, the sugar, and the bitter of a dish steal the show, I remain besan, the batter and the flour.
As a child I was plain; my mary-janes always a tarnished black, and my skirts, khakhi and well-pressed. I would trapaise along the school hallway, my hair tightly brushed into pigtails, and my handkerchief pinned to the side of my white-starched blouse. On the days I would beg my mother to let me be risque, she would let my hair down, and then began the satisfying feeling of covering the nape of my neck.
I was plain on the inside as well. I remained the tall Indian girl, the one who memorized the multiplication tables too fast, the one who read chapter books for pleasure, and the one who never slept over. I was the little girl who wore long sleeves with her cheerleading uniform, the one who visited the temple every Saturday, and the one who never found her 'best friend for life'. I was bland.
But I never transformed into the sweet jaggery, the spicy cinnammon, or the mouth-watering onion. I have always remained besan, the plain Indian flour. While the majority of my peers excelled in mathematics, in the sciences, in the fine arts, or even in sports, I did not. I was the one with the talents of oration and of writing, two abilities too plain and too insignificant in the eyes of the world around me. I have remained plain.
Besan, however, is a shape-shifter. Its grains fall into the mould of whatever it desires to be. It may be plain, and it may be bland, but it is basic; it is fundamental, the pulse to a beating heart. Besan is the batter that holds together the spice, the sweet, and the bitter of a dish. It is the base for all that must occur, its existence a raw necessity. I may be besan, but to it I can shift into all that I wish to be, and to it I can add all that I must.
Being besan is who I am. Being the glue, the shapeshifter, I have conquered the existence of my benign breast tumor, the death of my grandfather, the difficulties of the IB program, as well as a family background of uneducated, oppressed women. I may be plain and I may seem bland, but I can be thrown chilli and still be standing. Because I live life strong, I live life as changing, and I live life as besan, through and through.
So my first choice university in the US said that I could turn in a supplemental essay if I wanted to, so I wrote one! Please let me know what you think! I'd like to turn it in by tomorrow!
Thank you so much!!
I have always been besan, a plain Indian flour, bound to the taste of whatever is being made. I remain hidden under the crisp succulency of red onion, and even more so under the rich sweetness of jaggery. While the spice, the sugar, and the bitter of a dish steal the show, I remain besan, the batter and the flour.
As a child I was plain; my mary-janes always a tarnished black, and my skirts, khakhi and well-pressed. I would trapaise along the school hallway, my hair tightly brushed into pigtails, and my handkerchief pinned to the side of my white-starched blouse. On the days I would beg my mother to let me be risque, she would let my hair down, and then began the satisfying feeling of covering the nape of my neck.
I was plain on the inside as well. I remained the tall Indian girl, the one who memorized the multiplication tables too fast, the one who read chapter books for pleasure, and the one who never slept over. I was the little girl who wore long sleeves with her cheerleading uniform, the one who visited the temple every Saturday, and the one who never found her 'best friend for life'. I was bland.
But I never transformed into the sweet jaggery, the spicy cinnammon, or the mouth-watering onion. I have always remained besan, the plain Indian flour. While the majority of my peers excelled in mathematics, in the sciences, in the fine arts, or even in sports, I did not. I was the one with the talents of oration and of writing, two abilities too plain and too insignificant in the eyes of the world around me. I have remained plain.
Besan, however, is a shape-shifter. Its grains fall into the mould of whatever it desires to be. It may be plain, and it may be bland, but it is basic; it is fundamental, the pulse to a beating heart. Besan is the batter that holds together the spice, the sweet, and the bitter of a dish. It is the base for all that must occur, its existence a raw necessity. I may be besan, but to it I can shift into all that I wish to be, and to it I can add all that I must.
Being besan is who I am. Being the glue, the shapeshifter, I have conquered the existence of my benign breast tumor, the death of my grandfather, the difficulties of the IB program, as well as a family background of uneducated, oppressed women. I may be plain and I may seem bland, but I can be thrown chilli and still be standing. Because I live life strong, I live life as changing, and I live life as besan, through and through.
