ispeak

Open Letter to Pankaj Kapoor

2011-09-25T09:09:00.000-07:00

****Spoiler Alert******

Dear Mr Kapoor,

First off let me say, your son is gorgeous. Given enough incentive I might even be encouraged to elope with him, and I say this as a woman obsessively in love with her husband. He's just too good. And I suspect you know this too, since you saw fit to treat us to three whole hours of him looking tortured from Punjab, to Switzerland, to Europe to Dras to Ahmadabad to.... I'm exhausted just having watched the movie.

I think I know why you called the movie Mausam. Seasons could have changed while I was restlessly fidgeting in my chair in that darkened hall. I mean no offense, but what were you smoking? Its obvious you've been thinking about this story/film for a really long time. The old world charm, innocence, the yearning to be with someone you've lost - its a beautiful concept. And I would have loved it if you'd set the film period back by 15-20 years. But in 2000? Come on! How difficult is is it to find someone? Fine, maybe in India in 2000 it was still the age of dial up internet, but they were in Europe. Surely they would have figured out email???

You had so many story tropes going on. Each on its own would have made a fantastic movie. Hindu-Muslim love story against a backdrop of communal hate. Its been there done that many times over, but still would have been good. Like Yahaan. Its a beautiful movie and terribly underrated, in my opinion. Or how about making Akram a terrorist and Ayat his cowed wife, whom the brave soldier rescues.

Or how about taking the paralysed hand and using it to create a tortured hreo who doesn't beleive the heroine wants him and making the rest of the movie about how she makes him believe that she's there for good. Now that I would have swallowed like chocolate mousse, wept copious tears and sighed with the romance of it all. You had so many beautiful angles to flesh out and yet you gave us.....that.

Its obvious you love your son very much and wanted to show us in one sitting how wonderful he is - mera beta comedy karta hai, romance karta hai, action karta hai, dramatic scenes karta hai, nachta bhi bada accha hai. But i missed the point of the whole movie. Like I said before, if you'd made it a movie in the 70's you could still have salvaged some of it. But I could not believe that it was so difficult to pick up a phone and leave a message and your number. If there was an answering machine, then there's no excuse for this.

I'll sign off with my father's pithy comment walking out of the theatre, "what i took away from the movie was that shift karte time, forwarding address zaroor dena chahiye"

Yours sincerely,

Ispeak

Winds of Change

2011-09-18T03:18:00.000-07:00

Call me fanciful, but when big changes come about in life, you can actually feel it. Everything that's part of the surroundings and 'there' suddenly seems unfamiliar and everything seems like you're looking at it and feeling it differently.

For a Taurean who's vehemently opposed to change, I seem to turn my world upside down too damn often. Don't for a minute imagine I like it. I don't. I hate it. But its usually for practical reasons like my job. Or AD's job. Better opportunities, better lifestyle. When I was little, it was my father's job. The reasons are so many and so varied, but the result is always the same. Build, break down, uproot, build....and so the pattern follows. Its made me the person I am so I honestly cannot complain that its adversely affected my life. But in moments of whimsy, I often wish for a life where I was born in one set of walls, grew up in those same walls and had strong ties to one particular place for the rest of my life. I always wished for a home where I could walk in, point to a corner and tell the husband "when i was 6, that's the place where I....". Or the even more dramatic, "This is the home my husband and I made from the day we got married." But I've sworn to count my blessings and appreciate what I have and not stress about the handful of things that are not in my control. I've also sworn to reawaken my sense of adventure, sense of wonder at new experiences and appreciation that I've been forced to live a hugely full life where my natural instinct would have restricted me to being happy as an ant who believes its ant hill is the sum total of the world.

So, what do I have to look forward to -

1. Getting out of Bombay. BIG plus that. I wont say I'll never come back here again because the last time I said that I was back here in less than a year and a half.

2. Winters in Delhi. It makes my soul happy just thinking about it

3. Exploring Old Delhi. I've always wanted to do this especially since it reminds me of Old City in Hyderabad

4. Being back with our friends. AD and I cant wait to go back and reconnect with our friends. Phones and chat are one thing. Its another thing to just kick back and be in their presence.

5. Weekend trips outside the city. Please don't try to tell me that Bombay has Karjat, Lonavla, Matheran, Alibaug etc etc etc. They don't even compare. Its a myth that Bombay people keep reinforcing to make themselves feel better about their pitiful options!

6. Butter chicken. 'Nuff said

7. Delhi is the city of my heart. This South Indian who's lived all over the country has found the one city in this whole country that I can see myself grow old. That's major.

So...Delhi...we're baaaaaccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!

It was a long time ago......

2011-08-17T11:22:00.000-07:00

After my mom cleared up our house in Hyderabad, she handed me a bag crammed with some of my old stuff and told me to sort it out (read - Throw out the junk). That was last year. I finally got down to it this morning. And what did I find? If you went to school in the 90's some of this stuff might be familiar to you -

Letters - seemed like hundreds of them from the girls and even some boys from boarding school. Reading them now feels strange because after I left boarding school at 15, I've never been back once and have avoided meeting any of them if I could help it. If you've remember this post, you know why. The letters are full of who's crushing on whom, who's been dumped and how, what did X see in Y and generally the kind of important correspondence that teenagers share. To be fair, they wrote to me a lot. I just didn't want to look back. Reading all of that, do I regret not making more of an effort? I'm quite ashamed to say not really.

Greeting cards - birthday cards, miss you cards, friendship cards, good luck cards, you name it. It seems like the children of the 90's single handedly kept Hallmark and Archies in business. Remember those ridiculous Ann Geddes baby posters? Everyone loved them. Personally I thought they were very creepy.

Keepsakes and knick knacks - oh God! the stuff i have and i cant believe its still around. Chocolate wrappers with notes written on the back, chocolate wrapper without notes, movie tickets, transcripts of incredibly detailed conversations that were carried out in writing so the teacher wouldn't catch us talking in class.

Bits of fluff to mark some epic moment, which for the life of me I cant recall now. Scraps of paper no bigger than my thumb saying "senti-val, love R'. That's 'sentiment value' for all you ignorants out there (scoff, scoff).

Rocks - Yes that's right. I saved rocks. Maybe should have paid more attention to the ones in my head. Hmph. Ridiculous.

Love letters from old boyfriends. And incredibly bad love poetry. Odes to my eyes and to my smile. Here's a sample -

You ask me why I love you,

As if it wasn't true,

So here's a couple of reasons,

To show you that I do

It goes on about my eyes and my smile blah blah and then ends like this

I love the way you care for me,

No matter whatever for,

But most of all I love the way I love you even more.

Sigh. Those were the days.

Though I suspect he copied it from somewhere. Bless his heart, but he wasn't exactly...he wasn't very....Let's just say if you knew him, you'd have genuine cause to doubt that he could have come up with something like this all by himself.

And my journals! This is the time period during 1999 - 2004. I was a messed up kid.

About parents - lets just say, it was like trying to play hop scotch in a minefield. South Indian girl from well educated family did not want to be an engineer. 'Nuff said.

About future plans - Getting rich, being famous, showing the parents they were WRONG.Basically the usual.

About academics - I've said this before and I'll say it again. I've been to about 11 schools and I do not want to go back or even think about any of them. School was trauma - all of them and my high school papers were not even worth wiping your butt with. So glad that's over

About friends - Loved them, fought with them, disliked them sometimes, but they were my life. I'm glad to say nothing has changed

About luurrrveee - excruciating details about every boy I had a crush on. My friend G and I crushed on a minimum of two boys a week. Mostly they were subjects of the detailed written conversations mentioned above. When things were reciprocated, then it was about what I said, and then he replied to which i said......Then he said, and I flirted back and he touched my arm and then...Phew! Exhausting. How did I have the energy for all that. And Oh! the analysis of the boys. Its a wonder my brain didn't explode. I was in fits of laughter to read my 17 year old self spouting wisdom on 'emotional maturity'. I'm laughing now, but it was all very serious business back then. I kind of understood why adults don't take teenage relationships so seriously. But the tragedy is that the highs and lows and excitement and disappointments are very real and when parents, who have the advantage of life with them, get dismissive its a real source of tension.

A very wise friend told me (I think we were 17/18) that at any particular time and instance everyone's problems and issues are very real to them. Being dismissive is just disrespectful to that person. Just because you don't think its a problem doesn't mean they have to agree with you. I hope I remember that when I have kids of my own.

Speaking of love, one entry reminded me that when when one of the exes and I broke up, and I didn't go hysterical on him, he said "This is the best break up evah". Hmph! So much for maintaining my dignity. My 19 year old self was shattered. I wanted to go hug her and tell her that in under two years you're going to meet The One who you'll spend the rest of your life with and you've had a very lucky escape with this one.

Bad poetry - not as awful as rhyming dove with love. But close. Too close.

1 copy of the Kamasutra from my friends on my 18th birthday. I suppose they felt 'better prepared than caught unaware'. By the way the Kamasutra is nothing like what I thought it would be. Most parts of it are quite tame. I was almost disappointed!

1 copy of the Penthouse Letters (look it up! but please don't do that at work, or in a library) and some other A rated novel which I filched from none other than my Aunt's discarded books in my grandmothers house.

It was such a different time, where the littlest things were the biggest problems and real big problems didn't exist at all. The world was at our feet and we were the Rulers of the Universe. It was a long time ago.

India's Most Ridiculous

2011-08-07T09:29:00.000-07:00

Right at this moment the husband and i are watching The Last Airbender. But that's not what I'm writing about. During the ad, we were flipping channels and caught a clip of India's Most desirable with Simi Garewal with Ranveer Kapoor. And we were most lucky (NOT) to catch Kiki in her finest form. There is something so embarrassing about being in the same room as a TV with Kiki. I got up and left and didnt come back till the channel was changed.

Though i dunno why i should feel like i wish the the earth would swallow me whole - she's clearly not got any issues being a sixty something woman doing....THAT. Ick Ick and ICK. Check out this write up on the show. Its pretty funny.

Julie, Julia and I

2011-08-02T04:09:00.000-07:00

I was just watching Julie and Julia, about a woman who decides to challenge herself to cook her way through Julia Child's cook book. Julie, wants to cook, wants to write and feels trapped in her job. There's this one scene in the book where Julie goes out to lunch with her college friends and everyone around her seems impeccably well dressed and put together with high flying careers which they adore. And Julia feels like she's wasted her life. Like she's failed herself. Because essentially they all had the same opportunities and they started together at the start line (they were all in college together). And if she's not happy with the way things have panned out, she has nobody to blame but herself.

Some days I feel like that. Lately I'm inundated with the feeling of 'what the fuck am I doing'. I've got a month off, I've got a job to go to at the end of the month, its with a fairly well known company. But I'm so damn unsatisfied. I want to feel like I'm doing something meaningful. I want to be the one that does that THING that changed the world. What's it going to be? Hell if I know.

Then, when I start thinking like that I get derisive of myself. What on earth can I do that will make a difference to even my own municipality leave alone the world? Am I going to change the way the world reads or eats, or heaven's, even fart? Its pretty obvious that's a big fat NO.

I'm twenty seven years old and I'm yet to see any light on the path that I should be following in this life that God has given me. Somebody shine me a light!

Racing Against Time

2011-08-02T03:37:00.000-07:00

It day 2 post quitting. I should be thrilled to not have to put up with juvenile malicious behaviour at a place where i'd long outgrown my usefulness. I left with a job, so technically I'm not unemployed which was my biggest fear when i quit a few months ago without a job in hand. I should be ecstatic that I've a whole month off, all to myself to do as I please. And yet I'm caught in a strange sort of anxiety. Its as if this time is precious, and I'll never get it back and I must squeeze out every drop of joy I can get over the next 4 weeks because once I start the job grind again, I'll not be able to do even a fraction of what i could achieve now.

Great. So now I've the time and the leisure but the only problem is there's just so much I want to do, I just don't know where to begin. I've three parallel book ideas running in my head and I having the worst time ever trying to figure out which one is closest to my heart. I want to cook my heart out and blog about it. I want to exercise and get my 22 year old body back. I want to revamp my wardrobe. I want to watch movies. I want to play my piano.

I've realised that I've become so used to being stressed and angry and chasing something all the time, that when I don't have that I start inventing things. My latest obsession is to get the other job I've interviewed for just so I can get another month off to do all these lovely things on my to-do list. I've lost it haven't I?

So here's my to do list for the next month -

1. Write 500 words a day - on any of the stories buzzing around in my brain. Blog updates don't count

2. Play the piano for an hour everyday

3. Exercise, Exercise, Exercise!

4. Cook 4 times a week at least

5. Revamp wardrobe - This is a task on so many different levels, its got sub-tasks

- clean out junk aka current wardrobe

- figure out what my work clothes style is going to be. I'm so tired of trousers and collared full sleeve shirts

- Make a list of Must Haves

- DO NOT buy any more SHOES

Let's see how we do then. Also, if you've taken the time to read this so far, please pray I get the other job so i can have another months vacation? Pretty please?

On Being Unable to Control the Witch Mutation

2011-07-26T23:56:00.000-07:00

Dear AD,

Lately I hear myself talk and I cringe at how mean and small I sound. And I feel even worse about my behaviour because its not your fault - just.... you're the softest target. Believe me I know what I'm putting you through.

It's not your fault that your dreams have been incubating for a while and their fruition is taking longer than I'd imagined. Its not your fault that I'm impatient. It's not your fault that by some quirk of fate we've spent a year at my parents house and will soon be moving to your mother's house. It's not your fault that at 27 I seem to have zero ambition in life except to want the one thing that we cannot practically have at this point - a home of our own.

You know this, but I wanted to tell you again anyway. All my life I've moved from one place to another. I've never had a home which houses all my childhood memories. I've never had the opportunity to walk into a home, point to a corner and begin a story that started, "When I was XYZ age, that was the spot where I....". I always thought that when I grew up, I would have a place to call my own. A place where everything from the curtains to the upholstery, the linen, and even the coir foot-mat outside the door was mine. I never envisioned a fancy place. But it was irrevocably mine. Every corner would have the stamp of my personality and every nook and cranny had been filled with knick-knacks and history that was ours. Just ours and nobody else.

Which brings me to the point of living with our parents. My parent's house is not mine. It will always offer me a safe haven from the world and I will always be welcome here, but it's not mine. It's theirs. Its been built with my parents' sweat, tears, love and hard work. Its the home of the two people I love most. But it's just that - theirs. Just as your mother's house is hers. Its the home you were born in. The home you have your first memories of, the home you grew up in. You didn't move out till you were 22. You love that home. And I understand, even envy that attachment a little bit. But its the home your mother has built for you over the last three decades. Every corner of that house, for her, has memories of her family. Its hers. Reiterating to me over and over again that it's my house too by virtue of having married you does not make it my home.

Fact of the matter is I'm really scared of having to go live with 'the in-laws'. I'm afraid of the expectations on me as the daughter in law. I'm afraid that in a bid to preserve peace and not rock the boat I'm going to give in a lot and resent every moment of it. I feel helpless every time your mother turns a wounded gaze on me and says plaintively "this is your home too. If you want, I'll move out, but this is your home." It makes me feel lower than a worm and the guilt just kills me and makes me angry all at once. I respect your mother and care for her. I know she's never been anything but lovely to me. I'm not the evil daughter in law who wants the property but not the elders. But she's had her turn a building a home and family. Now its my turn. Why should I give up my dream for a convenient piece of excellently located property? . I'm afraid that 10 years later, we'll still be living there bringing up our kids and pets in a manner that conforms to her expectations because ultimately its her house and I will never be able to shake off that notion. I'm afraid I'm going to lose myself.

You've been so wonderful and have assured me repeatedly that this wont happen. That this is temporary. Even when I demand reassurance over and over again till I begin to irritate myself, you patiently tell me that everyone will look up soon and give me a hug. As much as I snipe and bitch, I want you to know how much I appreciate that. I'm scared that everything seems to be out of control. I feel like I'm dangling on the wheel of fortune and regardless of what I want, I will have to get off wherever the wheel stops turning. And that, all at once, scares, depresses and infuriates me.

I wanted to tell you that I'm working very hard to control myself. I'm not proud of myself these days at all. I want you to know that whatever you do I will always be there for you. I may be kicking and screaming initially but never doubt I'm behind you. And I'm trying to be a better and more supportive wife. I guess I'm not there just but hang on a bit, I'll get there.

Your patience is appreciated hugely.

Tenacious to the Very End

2011-07-26T00:29:00.000-07:00

You have got to give it to the man. I can almost imagine him at the swearing in ceremony to the Jerk-wad Brotherhood - "I solemnly swear, I will be a jerk to my dying day."

With three days to go before my notice is up and i can leave my personal corner of hell (read My Workplace) one would imagine that The Dreaded Boss would leave me alone. But no. The latest in dastardly deeds is one to trump them all. The day of my farewell (big farce if you ask me, but still, after 4 years, the least they owe me is a stupid farewell) he's sent off my colleague to another city for a meeting. According to him, "uske farewell mein tum jaake kya karoge?" Which is kinda mean because we're a team of three and i get along with my colleague pretty well, which annoys Jerk Boss hugely.

At the risk of sounding really melodramatic, at least let me leave with some dignity.

The Games People Play

2011-07-24T22:29:00.000-07:00

It was my grandfather's birthday a few days ago.

Me - Happy Birthday Tata
Tata - You remembered, how nice
Me to self - With your daughter dancing on my head about this for the last week, how could I forget?
Me to Tata - Of Course!
Tata - What's the point? I'm 82 years old
Me - Oh K.....? Happy birthday anyway?
Tata - I hope it's my last one
Me - Umm...errr....May all you birthday wishes come true?

Later I realised it was a perfectly horrid thing to have said. But what was I supposed to say? I guess I should have said "No! Don't be silly, you'll be around for many many years". And he would have given me a wan, perfectly martyred smile as if he's postponed departure to his heavenly abode because his family was not yet ready to let go of him. And he would have heaved a huge sigh indicating the magnitude of the burden his family's (read daughter) expectations place on him.

I'm not unsympathetic to his situation - his wife passed away about 10 years ago, and it cant be fun being on your own. And for a man who's been Son Crazy his whole life, it cant be easy to admit that his son is unwilling to do more than bare minimum for him, and its his daughter and son-in-law who do the major share of looking after. When I say looking after I don't mean paying for medical requirements and the obligatory trip once a year to check in on him. I mean speak to him, involve him, listen to him etc etc. So then why the attitude of "beti ke ghar pade hai"?

His son doesn't want to engage with him in the manner he wants and he'd being forced to engage with his daughter in a manner that's abhorrent to him. So he thinks his life's not worth living? Or does he just want to make his daughter's family just as miserable as he is. Or does he want validation that he is important over and over and over again from his daughter and her family, not realising that hundreds of their assurances are not going to make up for the assurance that's not likely to come.

Regardless of how I look at it, he's 100% responsible for his own misery.

Music Obsessions

2011-07-22T03:11:00.000-07:00

I've become re-obsessed with this song. This is The Animals version of The House of Rising Sun. Apparently its an American (English? There's a debate) about a man who ruins himself in the House of Rising Sun - maybe a euphemism for a gambling hell or a brothel. According to Wiki it was originally sung by women - a story about a girl who runs away from home to follow her gambler lover and ends up in the House of Rising Sun.

Music should be like this. Another form of communication, another form of entertainment. It should tell a story. These days you can do anything with a passable voice and sophisticated computer equipment. The singers work more on their bodies and booty shakes than actually doing any singing. I know love makes the world go round, but surely there are more things to sing about love lost, love found, hating the ex, obsessing about the ex, finding young love, finding old love blah blah. I'm sick of it. I know i sound like my grandmother, but really nothing I've heard these days comes close to the amazing music that used to be.

I've been playing Rising Sun on loop and the throaty, gruff voice just never seems to tire me. Listen to it here or here.

The Lil Person at Home

2011-07-21T04:26:00.000-07:00

My brother J and I are seven years apart. As kids, that’s a huge gap. A seven year old wants nothing to do with a newborn. At least, not once the initial excitement has passed and you realise your brother is a) younger b) too little to be of any actual use c) hogging all the attention.

Pre Teen Me had bigger things on her mind than the 5 year old who sucked his thumb and watched cartoon till his brains oozed out his ears. Then it was boarding school, being an obnoxious teen, college, university, job, marriage, life. Then we spent this summer together.

I’m mildly insomniac so there would be nights I’d sneak into the kitchen for a cup of coffee, green tea, snack. He would hear me blundering around and come to investigate the source of the racket. Then I would ask him if he wanted some insert- beverage- of-your-choice. The answer would always be Yes. Turns out he’s insomniac too. Some days he’d beat me to kitchen and would make a cup of whatever he was drinking because he knew I’d be along shortly. He’d perch on the kitchen platform and I’d sprawl on the floor. And we’d talk. About everything. He calmed me while I wailed all over the kitchen floor about the dismal state of my job. I listened while he told me what he really wanted to do with his life if he ever got the courage to face my dad and go for it. We shared some common disappointments and (I’m a little ashamed to say) grudges against the parents. We shared our love for anything to with making and eating food. We watched Adam eat so much I felt the need to take some antacid and Digiene to help with his digestion. I sought his company late into the night regardless of the hour, uncaring that tomorrow was a working day. I knew that this chance for me to spend time with him was a rare gift and opportunity to know more about the person beyond the title ‘my brother’ and I wasn’t going to miss out on it, sleep or no sleep.

And when we rolled a joint and passed it around (That 70’s show style) between J, AD and me, the seven years between us (eight and a half for the husband) really didn’t matter so much anymore. This was a grown up person – and a really especially awesome one at that.

Sometimes I think back and wonder whether I was there enough when he was little for him to have good memories of me. Then I remembered this one. I’m not sure I was a good sibling growing up. I hope to do better now. I don’t want to be standing on the outside when my brother’s living his life. I want to be right in the middle of it whether he wants it or not. And it’s not just because he’s the only family I have after the parents. Because people like him are very rare, at any age, and I don’t want to miss out on having a person like that in my life. The Lil Person did good.

Death of Romance

2011-07-05T03:33:00.000-07:00

From me on a weekday as I look up from my desk to see it raining -

Text Message
To - AD
What's a great idea to spending a rainy evening ;) Any suggestions ;) ;) !!!! ????

Text Message
To - Me
Pakoras!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Ritual vs Human Emotion

2011-05-31T03:56:00.000-07:00

I've been sitting on this post for a while. I wasn't sure whether it was appropriate to think the way I do about this.

In March this year, AD's grandmother passed away. She was in her mid 90's and had suffered from Alzheimer's for years. She was a small shriveled up woman, hunched over with age, snow white hair and no teeth. And how she had suffered through her last years. I think her passing was bittersweet for her two sons and daughter (my mother in law). They were sad because their mother was no more, but relieved that her suffering was done.

It should have been a solemn affair. A dignified send off for someone who left many happy memories behind. Then, that bane of Indian society, Ritual, raised its ugly head. Everyone from her sister to the maid was saying various versions of "Aap XYZ nahin kar rahe hain? Hamareyahan toh aisa hota hai" Still, this is standard behaviour in this country, one hardly notices it anymore. Then came the Preparation of the Body.

AD's aunt (uncle's wife), is incredibly religious and is a little bit anal about getting the rituals right. At the risk of sounding cynical, she's more form than substance. She had incredibly rigid notions about how things should and shouldn't be done for her mother in law's send off. The most offensive of this was that the daughter (that would be my mom in law) should not be involved in the body prep - Didi aap haat mat lagao was what she was told. Fine. This was annoying but not something I was going to butt into. Then it was decided that only bahu's are allowed to help with the prep.

And that's where I came in. I was horrified, appaled and disgusted. With all due respect to naani, I'd barely been married 2 years and she was completely out of it the whole time. Its not like I had any bonds of affection with her. It sounds awful but its true. When you get married, you give your husbands family respect because its their due but neither your husband nor you can be expected to love the others' family as deeply as you do. Lets be honest - its not possible. So there I was, cringing because I hated what I was expected to do. And I was furious. A dead body is not something you go about 'preparing' for a funeral unless you care deeply for that person. Or if you're a mortician I guess. What bugged me most, was if beti cannot touch her mother in death, how come beti's bahu is acceptable? I have never been more angry with my husband, though poor fellow, technically its not his fault. At the risk of sounding insensitive, it was gross.

In case you're wondering whether I got conned into doing it because there was a houseful of judgmental Punjabi women looking at me as the kaali south ki bahu who may or may not have sanskar, the answer is - not really. Someone dunked my hand in a cup of dahi which I was supposed to smear on. I gingerly poked at one shoulder (somehow that seemed to be the most inoffensive part - dunno why). Then there were plenty of bottles (honey, rose water, some oils, ghee) that needed to be opened so I grabbed them all and made a great show of opening them all slowly pacing myself till the rest of them were done. Then I ran away and didn't show my face till they were ready to leave. Yes I know that's not very mature, but it was the best I could improvise.

Later I thought, how sad for the old lady, after living almost a century, to have the attention of some random person behaving like she's an object of squeamishness rather than her daughter who loved her so much.

I'm tired....

2011-05-09T04:06:00.000-07:00

- of mailing personal documents from my office computer to my email because i think any moment now I'm going to be fired
- of suspecting every conversation Asshole Boss and Other Employee are having is about me - derogatory
- of my boss constantly warning Other Employee about what a bitch I am
- of always feeling like nasty comments and thoughts are being directed at me
- of not being able to hold a conversation with someone without wondering if i was doing the right thing by trusting them and would they twist the words and report it back to Asshole Boss
-of automatically hating and judging every person in the office who shares a friendly word with Asshole Boss
- of feeling my whole body tense in fear every time i hear Asshole Boss's voice
- of competing with Other Employee on how late we can sit each evening
- of being told year after year I've not been promoted
- of being told, on asking, that he 'wasn't aware i wanted a promotion and if i wanted one i should have said so earlier kyun ki is company mein maange bina kucch nahin milta hai" - pardon me for assuming that if you did your work well then recognition of it would follow without my having to fight for it
- of having bitchy colleagues come to me with gossip on how i was being trash talked about by my boss and inciting me to reacting just so they could go back and tell him what i said, making things worse
- of speaking to Other Employee about my work/clients and asking him to relay the message to me - even though I'm sitting right there while they have this conversation
- of being treated like the fungus on last year's food
- of being the one others are warned against because I'm a 'negative influence'

....so i quit. This time for good.

Borrowing a leaf from Freud

2011-04-21T21:06:00.000-07:00

I often dream I'm back in boarding school - vividly, in detailed technicolour. Images, locations and people vary a lot, but loosely the theme remains the same - I'm back there and whenever I ask people when I can go back they tell me that I can leave once I've finished with school. I remember one particular dream where i said "but i have to go back to my husband and my job" and they said "you can go when term ends."

It fascinates me that I dream about that strongly enough to remember in such detail. I mean, I have been to about eleven schools. Why dream about just this one? I must confess - of all the schools I've been to, my feelings about boarding school are most ambiguous. I was there age 13-16. And over the last 12 years I've never been back to visit even once. And I'm pretty steadfast about avoiding everyone from boarding school. It was a batch of about 100 people and know how many I'm in touch with? regularly? as a friend? None. I've often tried to analyse why I pretend that that part of my life just didn't happen. Or it was just a bad dream (pun unintended). When I force myself to think about school my mind immediately latches on to an image of a place which is an exact replica of all the American teen/high school flicks. But the thing is - logically, rationally - I know I had fun. I know I had friends. Hell - I even managed a boyfriend.

Sometimes i think my anxious desire to ignore that part of my life is more to do with the fact that i was going through an awful teenage phase than the place itself. Which is not to say the people there were angels - kids can be mean! And the more I think about it, the more I'm convinced that's the reason. Over the last 12 years, occasionally I've been cornered into attending a gathering of the masses. to drink, to reminisce and to enjoy the company of old friends.And there's nothing like a gathering like this to make me feel unintelligent, unattractive, uninteresting, ugly, un-confident and un-pretty-much-everything that I am now. I guess its not pleasant to see where you started out from and not particularly liking who you were at one point of time. So what do you think? Do I need therapy?!

The power of gossip

2011-04-13T21:37:00.000-07:00

Asshole Boss told the boss of the other team to tell his team to not speak to me because I'm a bad influence. Now I'm wondering if I can confront him because i heard it from someone who heard it from someone. And I'm mad. And I'm more mad because I haven't a leg to stand on. Asshole has punched another hole in my professional credibility and he gets away Scot free.

The latest Gandhi Debate

2011-03-30T23:59:00.000-07:00

The other day, the RJ on the radio was making a hue and cry about Joseph Lelyveld's book on Gandhi . I don't know much about Gandhi beyond what they drilled in my head in school grade 4 through 10. What has upset people most about the book is that the author claims that Gandhi was gay/bisexuall even leading some states to initiate a ban on the book.

I wont go into the historical accuracy of this nor on the impact Gandhi still has today - because like i said. I don't know enough to comment.

My question is - if he was, then so what? Does it take away from everything he has done, or not done as maybe the case? Does his legacy diminish because of it? Will a century's worth of history making beliefs and acts suddenly become meaningless?

Here's an interview with the author. What's interesting about it is that nothing he says denigrates Gandhi. My take is that this issue is less about Gandhi and more about the Indian attitude to G/B/L. Otherwise why perceive an insult, where none seems to be intended.

Incredibly Unscientific Survey

2011-03-14T04:42:00.000-07:00

So I'm doing a quick survey - the type my company refers to as a dipstick survey. Its very easy - all you have to do is answer one simple question -

Q: How many of you have to write all your boss' emails because hes too lazy to write them himself? Even though he's the only one who may have attended the meeting/call and knows what the hell is going on.

So please feel free to pass this link along. I'm very curious to know whether this is so common i should suck it up and deal with it. Mostly i want to know how many other freaks are out there.

Music Man

2011-03-06T04:57:00.001-08:00

My anniversary and birthday are separated by just a day. Last year was our first anniversary. The day before, we had gone to Haldiram’s where AD ordered a gooey papdi chaat. Once he was done eating, I was trying to move the tray aside when, in my enthusiasm, I pushed it too hard and the whole plate landed upside down on his lap. Now, AD is very fussy about clean hands, especially when we’re not at home and don’t have easy access to large supplies of handwash and clean towels. So naturally enough he flipped out in the middle of Haldirams and gave me an earful - “You’re an idiot”, “You’re so stupid” etc etc.

My friend, who had accompanied us, concentrated hard on her food, while I was being chastised like a naughty three year old. Needless to say, I sulked, through lunch and all the way back home. AD dropped me home and drove off in a huff, all the while muttering about how stupid girls are and how annoying wives can be. I went upstairs and drowned my upset in a trashy romance novel.

A few hours later AD came back home. I was not ready to forgive him yet. So I shot him a cold glance and went back to my book. He casually tossed an envelope in my direction. Assuming it was a document that I was expecting from my parents, I barely paid any attention to it. He didn’t push the matter but quietly walked off. A little later, I picked up the envelope then I noticed it wasn’t from my parents. Then I looked at the logo on the top corner. It read ‘Furtado and Sons’.

I learned the piano as a kid and somewhere along the last ten years it fell along the wayside. And I’d wanted to start again. I’d been saving for a digital piano for what seemed like forever. And every time we crossed the music store in Ambience Mall, I’d make the mandatory trip to the store there to say a quick a hello to the object of my dreams.

You know where I’m going with this right? In the envelope was the guarantee card and purchase receipt for a digital piano, a model higher than the one I was saving for. And I? I did the only thing I could. I burst into tears! Never I my wildest dreams did I imagine that this man would go out and do something like that. AD is usually most undemonstrative and a gesture like this is very out of character for him.

The other day, I went to a music school where they give teacher training courses and once I’m done I’ll be qualified to teach music – at a basic level, but its still something I can do when I give up this hellhole I currently work in.

We’re soon coming up on anniversary #2. AD has informed me that his present for the first anniversary cum birthday has given him a free pass for the next five years, at the very least. I agree! After all, he brought the music back into my life.

How (not!) to be a leader

2011-03-02T20:07:00.000-08:00

Now everyone knows that I've been having a rotten time with my boss. Here are some sterling examples of leadership (never underestimate the power of gossip)

1. How to give feedback

Wait till your employee is not around.
Go to another of your subordinates who works alongside Undesirable Employee
Talk loudly about how Undesirable Employee is a hindrance to the success of the team
Kindly counsel Other Employee that complaining about teammates is not unprofessional, but is actually in favour of the team aka for the greater good
Have this conversation preferably in the middle of the office floor where maximum number of people can overhear you disparage the professional integrity of your employee
Hope like hell someone will overhear and go back to Undesirable Employee and tell her how much she sux

2. How to criticize constructively

Go to Undesirable's colleague, preferably when he is talking to Undesirable Employee
Break up the conversation by yelling and screaming at Other Employee
Tell Other Employee that he is scum off the bottom of the pond
Further yell at him and tell him his dedication and commitment to his work is suspect
Yell a little more about Other Employee is betraying his boss and that so much more was expected from him
Tell Other Employee how much disappointment he has caused
Make sure to keep glancing at Undesirable Employee
Reduce Other Employee to near tears
Then take Other Employee into a conference room and tell him that everything he said was for his own good
Boss does not want Other Employee to be influenced by Undesirable Employee therefore regular shouting at Other Employee is a form of detox from evil influence of Undesirable Employee
Then make Other Employee feel better by saying that one only shouts at those that are close to them aka Apna Aadmi
Ensure that Undesirable Employee knows that she is causing hell for Other Employee
Induce guilt
Stop Other and Undesirable from communicating
Problem Solved

If wishes were horses.....

2011-02-24T22:59:00.000-08:00

I don’t want to be stuck going to work 5 days a week.

I want to have the freedom to wake up and exercise in leisure and not at some ungodly hour because the rest of my day is consumed by going to work.

I want to have the freedom to read all the time – history, romance, philosophy, mythology. There’s so much out there, I’m afraid I’ll be old and likely dead before I have the chance to read everything I want.

I want a garden where I grow my own herbs and flowers.

I want to cook and feed lots of people.

I want to play my piano for more than 25 minutes a day.

I want to take walks with my golden retriever

I want my own house

I want all my friends around me

I wish there was a better way to make money than being stuck in an office all day, 5 days a week.

I wish I wasn’t so directionless.

I wish I wasn’t so ambition-less

I wish I had an idea, some clue, anything.

Very very cheesy!

2011-02-12T07:40:00.000-08:00

Please don't judge me, but here's why I absolutely adore reading the Mumbai Mirror - Mumbai's singularly useless newspaper!

From Mumbai Mirror's Column 'Ask the Sexpert' (who's name by the way is Dr Mahindra Watsa)

Q: I am a 24 yr old male. When i get sexually excited my penis grows to 13-14 cm and sometimes 16 cm. Otherwise its is about 5 cm. Is this normal?

A: Your penis is cleverer than you as it does not want to dangle visibly when not required. You are normal

Look me in the eye and tell me it doesn't crack you up

A Big Mess II

2011-02-11T03:01:00.000-08:00

Just typed out a formal withdrawal of my resignation.

Oh! How the mighty have fallen.

Maybe I'll get over this around my 75th birthday

A Big Mess

2011-02-03T03:08:00.000-08:00

1. I let my boss’ asshole-ness irritate

2. Then I let it propel me into a blind rage (I’d never experienced that before)

3. Then I quit in anger

4. Swore on my pride I would never go back, retract or do anything that would make me stay back

Then I realised I had no money (nothing substantial in any case), was unemployed. To compound matters, I was unskilled, un-entrepreneurial, uninterested in the job options available to me. Just ‘un’ everything.

The last six months in a nutshell - my boss has mounted a campaign against me. The bad behaviour, taunts, unreasonable blame I have dealt with is just unbelievable. I know he wants me to go. Just like any man, he’s making it miserable enough that I offer to go, leaving him the blameless victim. He won. And I feel sick that I let him.

I promised myself six months ago that I was going to leave. Couldn’t do it. Then when finally I allowed myself to give in to impulse, I allowed myself to be talked into staying back – husband, father, friends, whiny HR woman, even asshole boss.

Here’s the real tragedy. I’m like a drug addict in an abusive relationship with the dealer – I’m addicted to my paycheck. I have pride. I have principles. I have conviction. I have dignity. And I’m sickened to realize that I would give it all up, just so I have a steady source of income. So now I’m back. He won again.

Now I have to go back and deal with falsely polite behaviour because “you know these over emotional girls just like to create trouble”

That noise you’re probably hearing is the sound of all my beliefs about myself shattering. I couldn’t do anything about it. He won. And I let it happen. That’s what disgusts me the most.

Desperate Prayer

2011-01-19T21:38:00.000-08:00

Dear God,

I like to think of myself as a a good person. I'm nice to people (when i remember to be), I'm a patient and caring wife (when i remember to be) and I'm very God fearing (when i remember to be) and in desperate times i sometimes pray. Like today. Seeing as I've already said I'm a good person (kind of) would it really be so awful that I'm asking you to please, please, please,please zap my boss to mars, the next galaxy, wherever, just anywhere but here. Please isko yahaan se uthalo. Please?

Love,
Me

Indian's really don’t know how to travel

2011-01-07T05:05:00.000-08:00

Hell, I'm not even sure they know the purpose of travel. And no, because your kitty party mate's husband takes her places and she shows off doesn't count. No, and neither does ticking off your checklist just so you can be the show off at your kitty party. No. Just stop. NO.

I shouldn't be surprised though. Until recent history it was believed that travel across the saat samundar leads to dharam brasht. Actually, we're quite a cow like civilization aren't we? We just sat here and let wave after wave of invaders and conquerors walk all all over us and in order to be extra accommodating we did the historical version of "jahapana tussi great ho, tohfa kabool karo" and bent over for each and every one of them. All was well as long as dharam and the mundane everyday-ness was not interrupted. If I remember my history correctly, we were quite happy to be the front-line sitting ducks for the British and would have probably done that for another few hundred years until they put pig fat cartridges and someone uttered the magic words "dharam brasht" and suddenly we were this seething mass suffocating for freedom. Of all the injustice, of all the atrocity, of all the cruelty they got upset about pig fat? What a bunch of idiots.

But I digress. Here's why I believe Indian's shouldn't waste their money traveling -

1. Because they always want to travel in large group like a herd of elephants. Depending on the group, they might actually even look like elephants.
2. Any unfamiliar food is great cause for concern. If you have to go grocery shopping before your international vacation you should give up even before you start. What’s the point?
3. You needn't be wearing a swimsuit but c'mon, do you really need to wade in the sea with your kanjeevaram on? Indian Ocean dhanya ho gaya.
4. If you're vegetarian
5.If you’re newly married. Really if you're going to spend all your time canoodling in your room, may as well stay at your local Taj. Saves time and money. I swear I went on a charter trip and I saw many of the newly weds, betrayed by the chooda and other paraphernalia, only on the flight there and back. AD was very rude – looking at a sardar couple he said “he looks like he wants to go back and say ‘mainu to bus mein hi kita si’”
6. If you’re going to complain the day they take bhajiyas off the Day’s Special
7. If you’re going to dress like Madhuri Dixit in ‘Hum Aapke hain kaun’
8. If you’re going to group up with only your fellow Indians and then nominate a short, fat, overbearing gujju to be the leader and then allow him to rail road you into playing D.O.N.K.E.Y in the pool. I suppose I should be grateful you didn’t start playing L.O.N.D.O.N London statue. C’mon! How old are you? 12? You can either strut around in newly married sexual haze or you behave like a pre adolescent. Choose!
9. If you’re going to walk up to the bar where everyone’s standing around ordering Becks or Heineken and demand two plates of “meddu vada”
10. If you’re going to take to the dance floor only if the dj plays Munni
11. If you’re going to sit on some of the most beautiful beaches in the world munching on khakra that you’ve lugged all the way from home

Travel is about experience. New place, new culture, new food. Not about clinging even more firmly to what you’re used to. Not about expecting the world out there to change their customs and ways so as to suit you. There’s a reason why turtles are the slowest creatures in the world. They carry their homes on their backs.

Happy Birthday and a Happy New Year!

2010-12-27T21:42:00.000-08:00

New year's eve for the last 4 years has been spent in Delhi. It also happens to be the husband's birthday. In an ideal world, we'd spend the eveining with some close friends having a super time. Unfortunately, we figured that being part of a couple on new years eve, especially a married one, puts you right at the top of the Undesirable List. See, a small intimate gathering doesn't have enough opportunities for AD's friends to score with drunk potentially underage women. In the spirit of compromise we'd agree to fall in with plans made by friends to large gatherings. Which is why in on 31st Jan 2006, 2007 and 2008 we found ourselves at a farmhouse in Chattarpur with a crowd upwards of 500 freezing our butts off. It didn't help that despite the cold there were drunk 12 year olds (ok maybe they were 15) prancing around in skimpy dresses and open sandals as if they were at the beach. I, on the other hand, was wrapped in so many layers i looked like the dhobi's bundle.

in 2009 we found ourselves yet again in Delhi, but decided to take a stand and shun large parties even if we missed out on a few friends that evening. Bad move because we had only one friend to hang out with us and she wasn't much of a drinker (just like me) so poor AD spent his birthday sipping on mulled wine! Was marginally better than herding around with a bunch of unknown people but still pretty pathetic.

This year, we're going on vacation (picture me doing a happy chicken dance). Just the two of us on a beach for four whole days. I cant wait!!!!

Rant

2010-12-17T02:51:00.000-08:00

I don't like Bombay..Mumbai...whatever.

There. I've said it.

People will take up in arms at this i'm sure and i'll hear a wild chorus of "Financial nerve centre, Bollywood, most happening night clubs, culture, theatre, art, Mumbai spirit etc etc etc"

Then someone will shout "Safety for women" with the air of someone who's pulled out their trump card.

Sorry. It leaves me cold. being able to walk down the street in a mini skirt at 3 am is hardly likely to compensate for the fact no matter how hard i work i will pay 75% of my salary on rent. That I'm always within 5 feet of a slum. Regardless of what time it is, it never takes me less than 45 mins to get anywhere. Considering current inflation, rental costs, and salary trends i am doomed to living in Kandivli, Dombivli etc etc. If i wanted to live there, i may as well move to Lonavla, or Pune.

Call me a snob. Call me spoilt.

I.Don't. Like. Mumbai

By the water cooler

2010-10-13T08:58:00.001-07:00

I think I've been working at my current workplace for too damn long. Here's why -

Crazy Boss - Kya ho raha hai
Me - Nothing.
CB - I'm bored. I hate filling in my expense reimbursement forms
Me - Uh huh
CB - Lets do something fun
Me - Uh huh
CB - You know what would be fun?
Me (worried now. Such statements never bode well for me) - What?
CB - We should sing nursery rhymes!
Me - Why?
CB - Because it'll be fun. You're feeling shy? I'll start. I'll recite the poem for which I won second prize
Me - How long ago was that?
CB - Class 2? Maybe 1?
Me - Oh....

CB (with complete actions)
Little Boy Blue,
Come blow your horn,
The sheep's in the meadow,
The cow's in the corn;
Where is that boy
Who looks after the sheep?
Under the haystack
Fast asleep
(What he actually said, was that the "ship was in the meadow" and the "cow was in the horn". It bothered me enough to google it)

Me - Clap, Clap, Clap
CB - Nice no (waves to Sweet Accommodating Colleague) Tumne suna kya? Accha tha na?
SAC - Uh. Yes
CB to SAC - Ab tum karo

SAC (I mentioned he was sweet & accommodating right? So he starts with complete actions too)
Jack & Jill
Went up the hill
To fetch a pail of water
Jack fell down and broke his crown and Jill came tumbling after

CB - See what a good sport he is? Now I insist you recite one

ME - Err. OK
Ride a crock horse to mumble, mumble
See a white lady mumble mumble, white horse
Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes,
Mumble mumble, mumble, where ever she goes

And then the phone rang. And SAC and I escaped.

It sounds too fantastic to be true right? But I promise you (bebe ki kasam!) this actually happened less than a week ago.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
This is part of Paruls' Blog Contest 'By the water cooler' where you have to tell a story about incident(s) in the office. It could be funny, sad, insightful but should be about the office. Read about Paruls' book further at her blog http://orangeicecandy.blogspot.com/2010/10/by-water-cooler-contest.html

Handbags, gladrags & shoes

2010-10-05T02:06:00.000-07:00

I simply lurrrrvvveeee high heels. I cannot resist a sleek pair of heels. My glasses morph into Chulbul Pandey’s with shoe shaped sparkly- thingies in the centre. And my feet are shaped nicely enough that they look seriously awesome in a pair of heels, even if I do say so myself. My brother insists that an amount equal to the GDP of Pakistan has been spent on my shoe addiction. That said, I’m a little afraid of them. Heels, not Pakistanis.

See, I like to think of myself as a practical person. Fact of the matter is heels (as I’ve mentioned in a previous post) were not developed for their comfort factor. And if I’m going to be trudging up and down all day I don’t need to cripple myself doing it. But then the Vanity Devil on my other shoulder nudges me and whispers in my ears “But don’t you want to look awesome while you’re doing all that trudging?” I’m not usually into pleasing everyone around me but Practical Me and Vanity Devil have such wonderfully logical arguments each, even if they are completely contrary, I find myself leaving the house in my lovely heels with a flat practical pair safely tucked into my handbag. Just In Case. So my feet are happy but I’m now in the danger of getting spondylitis because of the additional weight in my bag.

What I also love are dresses. I’ve seen so many women around Delhi and Bombay wearing them everywhere – casual ones to the mall, pretty ones for dinners out, seriously sexy ones for clubbing etc etc looking so lovely, that I instantly covet the trend. Then I went shopping for one and found nothing. This is my sad tale since year 2000. Over some time I formulated a theory that those who look super in dresses are

a) tall
b) slender
c) small boobs
d) long legs
e) no/limited butt
f) all of the above

Then I went and tested out the validity, reliability and accuracy of my hypothesis like any good researcher would do. So off I trotted to places like INOX in South Bombay, City Select and Ambiance in Delhi and most recently the Palladium in Bombay. And I’m right. Which is not to say there aren’t short, booby, big assed women walking around wearing dresses. There are. My god! Believe me there are. These are women with an unusually inflated sense of self or grew up in a circus where they are ‘normal’. I’m convinced that designers, store buyers (from Pantaloon to Promod) buy for skinny women. Now I’m not dissing uni-shaped women, though I am human enough to think – damn you your genes ladies!! But I feel like I should be starting out a humane Society for the Recognition of Shape on Indian Women (SRSIW). I’ll tell you why.

In Nov 2008, I decided that surely since the year 2000, SOMEBODY would have figured this out. And then I went to a store saw a dress and thought “Hmm. That’s cute. Maybe I should try it on.” And then I did. I still remember thinking, Oh Yeah, it is cute. Now if only they’d made some place for my boobs to actually sit where they’re supposed to not around my chin. Oh, and maybe some place to accommodate my hips and behind. And it would be really nice if they shaped it in such a way that I didn’t look like a kid had rolled his play doh into a cylindrical shape and then squeezed round the middle leaving her finger imprints on it.

While we’re at it, can all the women unite and please call for the ban of baby doll dresses. Nobody over the age of 2 should be wearing it anyway. Plus “baby” doll? Seems like a no brainer right? But in all fairness I concede I may just be a case of sour grapes. Because baby doll dresses looks like just another version of play doh gone very wrong on me. Maybe they should give out free handbags, you know to put your hips in coz most dresses just ain't got any place for them. But I still won’t buy them. I hate handbags.

Because hello! Spondylitis?

Meghraj

2010-09-26T10:17:00.000-07:00

He walks with the most awful hangdog expression on his face. Like the world is such a harsh and cruel place and it’s his responsibility to solve this problem. And he’s overwhelmed by the magnitude of his task. And as he walks in your direction you can see his burden makes his gait strained. Shuffling, dragging his feet with his head down he looks the picture of misery. Like a dark cloud drifting menacingly in your direction.

Unfortunately it’s not an expression that evokes sympathy. It’s a real downer. Watching him amble miserably past my cubicle make me want to smack him.

I don’t need this. As if my job doesn’t suck enough already.

Material Girl.....

2010-09-14T23:21:00.000-07:00

So here's a contradiction for you - i love 'things' but i hate shopping. My husband says I'm a hoarder because the few times i enter a shop i end up buying a lot of stuff that according to him i don't wear. I'm just pacing!!!!

Though I seriously love this trend of online (window) shopping through sites like Fashion and You & Stylepile (which i say is silly but secretly adore) and this one i discovered today Holly & Sally, who by the way are giving away some really nice stuff so you should have a look.

Now please excuse me ending the post abruptly because i must go drool over some really cool stuff before my boss gets back after which i really have to work.

Of wives and rabid dogs

2010-09-05T06:49:00.000-07:00

I’d like to believe I am a calm person who rarely loses her temper and is generally very reasonable. The unfortunate reality is that if I’m not alert to my mood, I have a tendency to turn into a snarling beastly creature. Especially to my poor (?) husband. While I’m definitely provoked, I do wish sometime I could control the intensity of the temper tantrum that seems to stem from somewhere deep inside of me. Like my husband said to me the other day (referring to recent health problems my grandfather had), “I’m not sure whether your grandfather has blood clots in his brain but you definitely do”. I know, I know. slightly inappropriate, but you must admit its funny plus it made me laugh and disinclined to rave and rant further. Win-Win

In an attempt to get you to sympathise with me, here’s a sample of the type of conversations that toss me in a whirlwind of hysterical rage

Tuesday Morning 8:00 am

AD – I’ll be ready to leave in 15 mins…Just need to put on my shoes

Me (handing him breakfast plate) – It’s pouring. Can you call a cab while I get dressed?

AD – You mean you haven’t called them?? What were you doing all this time?

Me – MAKING YOUR BREAKFAST YOU #$%^&$$%*&^ - GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

You have to agree with me. I may be snappy but really how else do you respond to something like this?!?

Now what could this possibly mean???

2010-09-02T22:26:00.000-07:00

When I grow up…..

2010-08-19T12:20:00.000-07:00

What will I be?

I’m 26 years old and have spent the last 3 years in a job that never elicited a reaction stronger than “Bleh”. On the best of days I never felt any emotion stronger than “Hmmm…nice”. I have more positive, strong and heartfelt emotions when I buy shoes.

So I’ve decided to stop dithering and finally take a leap of faith. I’m quitting next month. And now here’s the scary thought. What will I do next? In my more fanciful moments I like to believe that I’m a unique child of God and surely he meant me for greater things that sitting behind a desk. But the problem is I went with the ultra conventional option and now all my qualifications and my experience are in HR. And the thought of getting into internal/corporate HR (which seems to be my only alternative) makes me want to shoot myself. So here I am, with limited options, none of which I like, and no other marketable skills, no streak of genius and/or creativity, no flash of inspiration, no entrepreneurial spirit (because hello, no genius inspiration) and NO MONEY. I almost wish for the days where it would be perfectly acceptable for me to be nothing more than interesting company and a fairly decent human being – not necessarily in that order.

So I’ve been running a mental list of my interests to see what was there that I could turn in a million dollar idea

Books – chick lit, historical fiction
Plays the piano
Sarcasm
Can cook
Theoretically know everything about baking
Can recognize the title track of every Hindi movie 1975 onwards

Why couldn't I have some useful skill? Like - can reproduce Monet with one hand tied behind back…blindfolded. At least then I could be a perfectly respectable struggling artist. It sounds so much nobler than well read, acid mouthed, musically inclined person who can throw together something edible while ‘watching’ Set MAX in the background.

Here’s a list of jobs that I would love

Trinny & Susannah’s show “what not to wear” – Imagine being able to walk up to people and say “that top is ghastly. It makes your boobs look massive” and then have them cry all over you in gratitude at the end of it.
Nigella’s job – Personally I think her cooking can be summed up in 2 words – sniff test. The logic being that if it smells good individually then it turns out great all together. She has this shiny kitchen and I’ve yet to see her clean up after herself. Nope. Not even once.
Rocky & Mayur’s TV show – Eating dhaba food all the time and getting fat on screen. What’s not to like? (No offense, I love their show)…Rocky and Mayur are you taking note?
Personal shoe shopper – Enough said

Is there anything in there that will make me even 10 bucks? No? That’s what I thought.

P.O.P

2010-07-28T01:43:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer - If you're a die hard feminist, I would suggest you stop reading this right now.

A friend of mine told me a super funny story the other day. Before I start, let me set the context of the story by telling you a bit about her. She's very well educated (history & law) and spent the past 4 years in the UK. Compared to many lawyers we usually see around (you know the type who notarised the copies of your college certificates), let me assure you she's supremely sophisticated, so on her first visit to the trademarks office she assumed it would be a very civilised discussion (argument?) between the people concerned. But that thing about "being in Rome....."? Apparently its true. Because the first thing the person there told her was "madam, yeh nahin hone wala." And my poor, lovely, well spoken friend was reduced to "lekin sir kar dijiye na. Sir please sir......pleaasssseeeeee." As it turns out, it worked.

This incident was shared with me during a supremely drunken evening so about 15 hours later, after I had retrieved control of my gag reflex I played this over in my mind and I thought this was so true of most women. Now be honest, how many times have you been stopped by a cop only to flash them a beatific smile and plead oh-so-prettily to be let off for 100 bucks? Or the episode in Friends where Rachel needs to apologise to Ross for something and Joey tells her to hunch her shoulders together and say "I'm so soooorrryyyyyyyyy" Or when I was in the final year of college and didn't have enough attendance and sweet talked the guy in charge of the registers to plllleeeeeeaassssseee alter the records so I'd have enough attendance. As my friend very elegantly put it, its the 'Power of P**sy' or P.O.P

A case of 'shut up your mouth'

2010-07-15T21:13:00.000-07:00

It's not exactly news, but just thought I'd reiterate the fact that I don't drive because I'm a paranoid driver. Not only am I a paranoid driver I'm a paranoid passenger, be it the the back seat or a passenger seat in front. I'm usually wincing, grimacing and bracing myself for (what I believe) to be an impending accident. And unfortunately for poor AD, I'm very vocal about it.

So the poor sweet man who drives me around wherever I need to go is subjected to "watch, watch, WATCH", "OMG, WHY ARE YOU DRIVING LIKE THIS", or very imperiously "You're making me nervous, please don't drive like this."

I didn't realise how irritating I was being till one day he turned to me and said "tumhare liye side mein ek fake steering wheel aur ek brake lage denge. Then as per your definition of 'good driving' tum wheel ghumate rehna aur brake dabate rehna"

Well you cant say much after THAT.

OOD - Olfactory Overdose

2010-07-01T07:53:00.000-07:00

The other day I decided to indulge myself with a hideously expensive body wash. I did give it a quick sniff at the store where I thought it smelled slightly floral and promptly bought a 100 ml bottle. However, later at home I realized that it was a lot more than ‘slightly floral’. It smelled heavily of ‘afternoon jasmine’, which any south Indian will instantly recognize. ‘Afternoon jasmine’ is my term for the flowers that have wilted since their 5 am plucking and the wilting should have made the smells fainter but it just seems to meld with the heat and just becomes stronger. Immediately, my olfactory memory went into overdrive and I was transported to a place that was really hot, bustling, chaotic, right next to the cashier’s counter and a large ghee dosa was being put in front of me.

It’s not an unpleasant smell by itself and I’m sure your average westerner will probably think of it as exotic scents from the east. But me? Turns out I spent 600 bucks to smell like an Udipi restaurant.

Do I really want to look exactly like my mom?

2010-06-27T22:47:00.000-07:00

The other day a friend and I goofed off from work to mall hop. We wandered into a really popular accessories store where said friend scoped out handbags (I don’t get the handbag fascination but that’s for another time) I was looking around and then I spotted the strangest thing - a shiny silvery sequin-y pair of shoes with a half inch heel on the soles. What’s so surprising, I hear you ask. After all, it’s nothing but yet another testament to bad taste that most delhites seem to display (Special emphasis on the most. May I just say some are gorgeous:).

Back to the shoes. What really caught my attention was that the shoes were less than six inches long. It really couldn’t have been for anyone over the age of 5. Next question – what kind of 5 year old prances around in heels? A quick look around confirmed that this particular design came in adult sizes as well. I’m told by my very well informed friend that this trend was started by Katie Holmes and her 3 year old daughter. Apparently the kid has a million dollar wardrobe and I remember reading somewhere that she (the kid) ‘never repeats outfits’. Now first off, how come a toddler knows what an ‘outfit’ is? (I used to think it was a top and lowers but apparently it’s a whole lot more than just clothes – huh?). Secondly, does she even know how many zeros there are in a million? It’s the kind of question my dad would probably ask. In a parallel universe, where my dad has a million dollars to spend on my wardrobe the conversation would have gone something like this:

Me – I want a multi million dollar wardrobe
Dad – Do you know how many zeroes there are in a million?
Me – Errrrr…..ummmmm….
Dad – When you find out maybe we’ll finish this discussion

(Embarrassing confession but even in this universe I need to check!)

So as it turns out, Ms Holmes finds it very cute to have her daughter dressed exactly like her. And now there’s this lovely trend where moms and daughters dress alike. And I wonder how long this will last. I know zilch about parenting but it hasn’t been that long since I was a teen and at the time if there was something my mom approved of it sure as hell was not something I’d be caught dead in, leave alone wearing things exactly like her. There have been many occasions where I’d emerge from the room dressed and ready to go when my mom would say the dreaded words ‘that looks really nice’ and it would be enough for me to return to my room and toss the clothes aside and root for something else. Of course my mom wasn’t wearing Prada, Gucci and the likes so it might be different for these kids.

But heels for kids? Heels are instruments of torture I’m sure were invented by a man. Why’s that? Well heels are said to make your walk more sensuous, make your butt look great and you legs look longer and sexier. Only a man would have thought of that. I once watched a show on TV where a really prominent designer (I think he was French) said in heavily accented English, “Ah heels! Beautiful no?! How to wear them? Drink lots of martinis before you slip into them”. And then he laughed. But since we’re all conditioned to look upon these unnatural creations as must haves (myself included) I wont invoke a Simone De Beauvoir type gender debate about how heels and such like are yet another invention designed by men to oppress women. But I do wonder if the Cruise kid will go through rite-of-passage teenage rebellion wearing black make up and colour her hair green. Now that is more interesting than a pint sized million dollar designer wardrobe.

Monkey Business

2010-06-11T03:14:00.000-07:00

Apparently we're being stalked and harassed by a monkey. I say apparently because I'm yet to see this furry vandal. In true Bollywood ish-tyle i arrive at the scene after the crime has been committed. The news alert is usually accompanied by much hand waving and excitement by AD (the husband). And also a certain amount of sheepishness because he's been told time and over again to not leave the kitchen window open. Which is why he only tells me about these home invasions when the monkey makes a mess that needs to be cleaned. What was that you said? Clean up himself? Bite your tongue and perish the thought!!!

So anyway, on various occasions I've walked into my kitchen to find a whole packet of besan strewn all over the floor, or to find my beautiful coffee carafe in shards (yes, also all over the floor), the bottle of cooking oil oozing into a puddle (all over the floor), the spare spice dabba (all over the floor). The other day i walked in to find that i now had to clean up smashed eggs. And no, not all over the floor but on top of the fridge and the microwave. I suppose Mr Monkey thought it might be fun to spice up the routine a little bit (grrrrr). AD swears he dint leave the window open this time. In fact he swears it was the monkey who not only managed to open the window but quite confidently walked up to fridge, and after a quick perusal of the contents, pulled out a banana and a tetra pack of juice. The damn creature even left the banana peel on the stove for me to throw away. Like i was his butler.

The way i understand, AD just stood there and marvelled the monkey's ingenuity and watched him make complex dietary decisions and only realised he had to do something about it when Monkey smashed the eggs (go figure the male brain). The way i heard the story told, there was also some primal growling and teeth baring (by AD) but the monkey's teeth turned out to be scarier after which it seems to have been established that the monkey is the uncontested leader of this household. So much for the census form where we put AD's name under "head of the family".That day i learnt how quickly eggs will cook on top of a fridge.

I will be honest and tell you that for a bit i thought it was AD who dropped stuff and blamed it on a fictitious monkey. But then i had visuals of him looking into the fridge wildly pouncing on a banana, scarfing it down and tossing the peel and then thinking it might be fun to make an eggy mess. Then i shook my head and thought 'naaaaaaahhhhhhhh'. That's a bit extreme even for him!!

Now we've taken to locking the windows. The monkey though still appears on the ledge outside every time AD is in the kitchen. He probably knows its just a matter of time before the window is left open again. You know what this means? This means war.

Pondering

2010-06-06T00:50:00.000-07:00

Here’s an interesting question – almost an existential dilemma if you will. When it comes to difficult circumstances do you follow the whole “quitter’s never win…” philosophy or do you take the pragmatic approach and cut your losses to either start over or try another method.

Do you keep banging your head against the proverbial wall or do you step away from the wall and find another way around it?

Mean & Nasty

2010-05-28T02:45:00.000-07:00

So there's this girl in my office and every time she's within a 4 feet radius i have to fight the urge to gag. Really, cant she smell? or did her olfactory senses die at at early age? Phee--ewwwww. Yuck. Right now i wish my sense of smell had died as well.

Also, today I wrote a mail to client addressing her as"Dear Asstha" instead of "Dear Aastha". Oooops!

I did, however, consider at the time how appropriate the 'error' was. Well i never claimed to be an angel :D

When she asks for apples......

2010-05-23T21:22:00.000-07:00

In my 3 years at my current place of work i have learnt a lot from my boss. That's a given and I'm not debating that. Of course i have also acquired the dubious ability to decipher statements like "When she asks for apples, give her caviar" It simply means stretch a bit and deliver more than expected. Its a very valuable lesson in work ethic but really i couldn't help rolling my eyes at this strange bit of wisdom. Other gems include -

The girl has the right stuff, we just need to sex her up a bit.
Translation - The content of your presentation is all there and good, but you need to make it more interesting

Dress the bride, the groom has to be dazzled when he looks at her
Translation - When you send out the proposal, the document has to make them sit up and take notice

The courting period is delicate, we cant make mistakes.
Translation - Step carefully when speaking to a potential client

Interesting observation, though, is how everything is to do with women, courting, brides & grooms. The food one is new though. It doesn't take a genius to figure out where its all coming from!!!!

Edited to add the latest gem- I am a poor father of 5 daughters, i have get them all married off
Translation - As a consulting firm we have only that many products and services, therefore we have to take a fresh aproach for each client while presenting our services.

On why we work...

2010-05-05T02:43:00.000-07:00

here's a conversation i had with my 19 yr old brother, J, who's getting his first taste of employment (read summer internship)

J: ......I'm going to really rock the world someday
me: really? rock in the sense of Obama or osama?
J: errrrrrr......which one is going to pay me more???

(how quickly the illusions shatter to expose the ugly truth underneath!!!)

Hitched

2010-02-16T21:45:00.000-08:00

For those of you who aren't married, there will come a time in your life where your mom will try to sell you the merits of marriage with the relentlessness of a sales trainee at Citibank's credit card division. And sooner or later you will cave and will actually be quite happy about it. Then your mother will shed happy tears like all you've done up to now was timepass till you to get to this "moment". Your siblings will make lame jokes about finally getting rid of you. Your father will complain about the wedding expenses your mother is running up. And man..everyone will want to share their opinions on your impending wedded status.

Your grandmother will take you aside to let you know that you may be married but you are to keep complete control over your finances (and his, if you're really shrewd!!). Your relatives and family friends will want you to know you could do better. But the best reactions come from your peers - friends, colleagues, bosses etc etc.

Your more romantically inclined friends will get gooey and starry eyed and gush over the romance of it all. Your more feminist type friends will turn up their noses and tell you that well, if that's what you really want this early on in life then of course they're happy for you. Your colleagues will be very sweet and supportive even though they're secretly thinking damn, I'm going to have to do all your work while you're gone. Your single-perpetually-wanting-to-mingle bachelor boss will genuinely want to know whether you will give up wearing trousers, wear sindoor and leave office at 5 every day so you can go home and cook a 4 course meal for your husband. (At which point you should turn around and say "I'm getting married, not a brain transplant"). And everyone's going to give you superior knowing looks and say, 'things are really going to to change for you'. And so it goes on and on and on with you going blue in the face saying that mantras during saat phere don't include magically giving you a new personality.

Here's a couple of things your friends/acquaintances are not going to tell you. You're getting married so you have a new person to hang out with and therefore, I'm sure, you wouldn't want anything to do with me. Outings with you will be listed in my calendar as "dinner with married friend coz i have nothing better to do tonight". Your husbands friends will request your permission to allow him a boys night with friends - "we promise we'll behave ourselves" (At this point you turn around and say "He's my husband not a performing monkey so I'm sure he can make his own decisions"). As a corollary to that, your husbands friends will not ask him to go out as much because a)they're mortally afraid of offending you and b) 'going out for a drink' is man code for 'lets hit on everything in a skirt' which leads back to point a. which is they're mortally afraid of offending you (At this point you turn around and say " He maybe married but he's not blind. We're not going to get divorced over the sighting of a pretty set of legs").

I've given it a lot of thought, and am still unable to understand the sea change in people after one gets married. I'm pretty sure i haven't changed. That would mean they have. Which leaves me wondering - whats my being married got to do with them?!

Power or Money?

2010-02-11T04:05:00.000-08:00

Interesting question for you - If you had the chance to be the most powerful person in an organisation but didn't make as much money as you could would you be happy? Or would you be happy taking home a gynormous paycheck but probably not have such an influential position as the former??

My beliefs lean towards the latter - like a former colleague of mine said 'I'll wash the teacups in your office for the appropriate number of zeros on my paycheck'

What do you think???

Hindiwalas Beware!!!

2010-02-02T00:56:00.000-08:00

So i got saddled with making a useless work trip to Bangalore. I'm not sure how much business development i did, but i did learn a few things about my fellow south indians. They are racist. And that's insane. As if it isn't bad enough that people dislike each other because of religion, now they don't like each other because of geographical region???

The cabbie (yes, yes, another cab driver story) who drove me around, greeted me at the airport with a surly grunt and barely a nod. He refused to even pretend to communicate. And there i was ridiculously wringing my hands, gesturing, and making lame half statements in English/Hindi (since i know no kannada) hoping he knows enough to at least understand that he needs get me to my meeting place asap else I'll miss it. Insufferable behaviour. However, after meeting#1 I got into the car and needing to be thawed out (coz of miserable temperature control at my meeting) i rolled down the window. And because I'm vain and dint want my hair to fly, i put my scarf around my head. Now this seemingly innocuous action shocked him into speech. "Aap muslim hai kya?".

Well well well. Apparently the only thing that will goad a Bangalore cabbie to speak in Hindi is the horrific thought that there might be a Muslim on board. So anyway, i said no, i was from Andra. Which is neither here nor there. But thinking about it later, maybe i sensed his latent hostility and wanted to get him to calm down (much in the way you offer a nasty looking dog meat to deflect attention from your presence). And i was right.

His expressions underwent a drastic transformation and suddenly he wanted to chatter away with me in Telugu and basically know everything about my life. Thinking back, it was quite funny the way i was scrambling through my limited Telugu vocabulary to match this new found eloquence in Mr Cab Driver. After exhausting all lines of interrogation, he tells me in Telugu, "I never speak to Hindiwalas. In fact i try and converse as less as possible with Hindiwalas. I'm so pleased you're not a Hindiwala". Apparently, since i came on the flight from Delhi i couldn't possibly be anything other than hindiwala right?!?! And he wouldn't have figured out that i wasn't a hindiwala if i hadn't shocked him to the core by suggesting (with my actions) that i might be Muslim.

Take heart all you 'hindiwalas'. Apparently in the eyes of south India, you're at least one step above being Islamic. He even asked me about my surname being south Indian when I'm married to a north Indian (yes he'd figured that much out by then - the CBI could take lessons from him). When i told him i dint intend to change it he said "very good. don't bother." Like he thought south indians should not besmirch their names by adding/replacing with a north indian name.

Of course by the end of the looooonngggg ride to Bangalore airport i wished id kept my mouth shut and simply said yes to being a muslim. At least then i wouldn't have to engage in exhausting conversation. Of course the tragic outcome of this rather strange encounter is that the next time any 'Hindiwala' talks about the travails about being/living in Chennai or Bangalore I'm going to have to agree with them. Like a hindiwala friend of mine says , 'yeh ingad bingad bolne wale log kafi ajeeb hote hai'!!!

Errmmm....God? I think you forgot my inner compass

2010-01-30T06:05:00.000-08:00

The last time i drove was way back in August 2009. The next time i drove was today. Its almost becoming an annual event. Now anyone who knows me, even a little bit, knows that i hate to drive. Alright, alright! I'm actually terrified of driving. There are very few things, in my mind, that will make me get behind the wheel. They would be heart attack (only if an ambulance has been ruled out), and impending death - if someones else's then only unless there's no cabs around and if my own then...nuff said i guess. However, the desire to drive (however rarely) is usually incited by a well timed "witty one" from my husband which has me scrambling to get to the parlour even under duress of driving (however I'm beginning to see a pattern here. He's definitely preying on my vanity. Here's hoping I'll resist the next one - but that's another story altogether)

So anyway, there I was cruising along, minding my own business thinking "well I'm not doing too badly", when this guy in a toota-phoota maruti 800 starts cruising side by side, rolls down his window and says, "madam, aap driver rakhlo to behtar hoga." Thinking back now (now being about 6 hours later) i think i should have been insulted because he was being sexist and nasty. And i definitely should have yelled back and told him to mind his own business. After all if he were such a champ driver, his fender wouldn't be lopsided like that. But, me being me, i cracked up. I had to stop on the side so i could laugh my guts out (Yeah, some of us aren't capable of laughing and driving at the same time - so?) My friend who was with me thought it was the driving that was making me hysterical (its a testament to how good a friend she is to get into a car with me). But the guy was right. Gurgaon can do with a lesser number of incompetents driving around.

There are days i thank god i was born in an age where I'm herded from the airport door to the right gate, to the right waiting bus to the right airplane. Imagine trying to follow directions that go like this "So you want to head to mumbai? Go south for 3 days, when you hit the river go south west for 2 days and when you reach the coast walk on for another 7 sunrises and you should be about where you want to be". It makes me shudder just to think about it.

I'm so directionless I don't think even GPS Jane could help me find my way. What if she said, take the next left when you hit the main road. In India how does one define main road. What if that little unpaved by-lane was the main road. You see my problem?? When i go back to my parents place in Hyderabad I'm appalled i cant even find my way home because the large tree which was my marker has gone. Of course why i should be looking so desperately for a tree when i should be looking for the road is beyond even me.

Anyway, I'm fast reaching the conclusion that God didn't make us all the same. He in His wisdom has given me many many talents (modesty chief amongst them of course ;) but driving and directions are definitely not one of them. Now i should probably concentrate on convincing my husband ki hum driver rakhle to behtar hoga!!!!!

Snippets from a weekend at work

2010-01-27T03:41:00.000-08:00

I'm sure it was meant as a sober gathering of professionals wanting to do a good job in 2010. However, here's my takeaway from a weekend spent discussing how we can 'build business in India' -
1. Paise banao and perhaps we wont shut down your business in this country
2. Aur paise banao and perhaps we'll think of you all as human beings and not trained monkeys
3. Sabse jyada paise banao and we'll put a shiny tinsel star on your desk acknowledging you as super consultant. Yippee?! Who wants money when you can have the shiny star?!? (out of context but can i trade my bonus for a shiny star this year???)
4. Given enough alcohol everyone will turn into best friends and, ahem, lovers?!
5. We have the Indian version of Hannibal Lector right here in our office
6. Computer says no - always
7. Single men are single for a really good reason - nobody wants them
8. Single women are single because nobody wants the single men which is essentially the same as the previous point
9. Your enthusiasm for your job is inversely proportionate to how long you've been in the organisation
10. Nothings going to change. Shape up or ship out

If you're employed..then this is your song!

2010-01-19T21:53:00.000-08:00

Build a bonfire, build a bonfire
Put my bosses on the top.
Put my clients in the middle
And burn the whole lot.

The bonus that they give us they say its mighty fine
But this awful number, wouldn’t tempt a child of nine
Oh my I'm tired of this nonsense life
Oooohhhhh I want a new job!!!!

The data that we churn out, they say its mighty fine
But the nonsense that we give out, is no concern of mine
Oh my I'm tired of this nonsense life
Oooohhhhh I want a new job!!!!

(I'd love to take credit for this but i believe this is an old army song. I just changed a few lines to make it more relevant!!!)

The Grass is Always Greener etc etc....

2010-01-18T22:27:00.000-08:00

So i just spent a better part of my morning counselling my recruitment consultant on how she could get a job in my firm. Is it just me or does anybody else see anything terribly wrong here?

It does make you think though. She clearly wants to be in my position. I want to be in someone else's (a much higher paying someone else, to be specific). And that someone else probably wants to be someplace else. With all those 'elses' i'm tempted to launch into a monologue about contentment and positivity etc etc etc. However, we all know that the whole self actualised drivel is only applicable to those people who can afford it - literally.

If I knew then....

2009-11-18T22:43:00.000-08:00

Lately I find myself thinking back to when i was a kid and all the people who gave me what i like to call 'life experiences'. Some good some bad but definitely memorable experiences and considering i moved around a lot as a kid i met A LOT of people. Often i find myself thinking of things I'd like to tell them considering what i know now.

To my dad - if knowing my 18 times tables backwards was going to have a direct impact on the number of zeros on my paycheck i promise you I'd have paid more attention. Not everyone can do it and most aren't interested. I remember one teary lunch time reciting 18 tables backwards "18*20's (sniffle) 18*19's (sob)18*17's....." "WHAT HAPPENED TO 18*18's?" ummm...who cares?
Also numbers is numbers and English is English. Numbers is not English. Why on earth did i ever swallow that one?!?
To the principle of my school when i was in 4th grade - What on earth were you thinking when you called a 9 year old to your office and instructed her to give you a detailed account of what the teachers were upto while class was going on? Did you think i had a promising future in espionage?
To the batman we had in Shimla (age 11) - You're a dinosaur with no more than 2 cells in your head. I am smarter than you. Accept it.
To Mr Dean, one of the many piano teachers - Pardon me for being a snob but manging to belt out old Hindi numbers on the keyboard is no indication of your talent. Oh and all the times you couldn't find me for class i was hiding under the space between the balcony and the roof of the house below. And don't think i don't know you only came to drink tea and eat cake, which you did, regardless of whether i was there or not.
To my 11th class physics teacher - You ruined my 17th birthday when you told my father at the PTA that he should never expect anything but mediocrity from me. Thanks a lot b*@^h. You will be pleased to know that you have become a benchmark against which I measure the misery of life. When things get me down i ask myself "is this as bad as 11th class physics". Most often the answer is no.
To my first boss - For such a great "talent hunter" you took a super qualified person for a job that any 12th class pass could manage with ease. Ever heard of employee engagement? That's a violation of head hunting 101. See? I always know you were talking through you're a**.
To my mom - I could write a book! but I'll sum it up in one sentence "I was right; I was always right" :D

Im sure there are plenty more and i'll keeping adding to this as things come to mind

Great Virgin Sacrifice

2009-10-19T22:10:00.000-07:00

As a teenager, family gatherings often meant overhearing the adult women gossip about so and so's children and what they were upto. Of course the more whispered the tone, the more interesting the content of the conversation! I remember hearing snippets about somebody whose daughter was living in with her boyfriend and they were to be married with the works i.e. the rituals the functions etc. And I remember someone saying "But what's the use of wasting so much money? What is the point of these rituals? Anyway they're living together". (FYI - its not the living as much as the implied sleeping together that bothered the ladies). Similar views were given about people dating for a long time as well. Somewhere the logic seemed fuzzy to me, but I dint pay too much attention at the time. Anyway the conversations always ended with resigned head shakes and my favourite dialogue to this day, "Not enough respectable"

Years later i was living with my fiance and as the date got closer I inevitably found myself chatting about details with anyone who cared to listen. But I soon started to screen my audience because invariably a lament on how such and such thing was not working out as per plan gave rise to the comment, "But its ok na - anyway you're living together". Errrmmm excuse me? What has that got to do with anything?

The light finally went on in my head when at a friends wedding, someone turned to me and said, "They are the cutest couple I know of." I nodded an affirmative as she turned away. Suddenly she whirled around with a really weird look and said , "I'm sure you and your fiance are good together too, but they are just getting to know each other so its sweet right and you guys have been together forever na?." Since there was really no appropriate response to that I walked off thinking , "What a bizarre conversation!" There I was minding my own business and suddenly I was an unwilling contestant in "Cutest Couple Kaun." It then finally struck me that this was just another version of "...anyway you live together."

I started to think over many such conversations and began to link the various implications and came up with some conclusions. I've come believe that in popular opinion unless wedding ceremonies are about the Great Virgin Sacrifice, they hold no meaning. Unless weddings are about binding virtual strangers to each other for eternity, they hold no meaning. Unless wedding ceremonies are about making drastic changes in your life couched in romantic undertones, they hold no meaning. Which kind of sux because here I am thinking weddings are a celebration of promises made and if anyone deserves a celebration it would be people who've already been through a lot. I mean these would be couples who've seen each other through bad days and worse days, flu, stomach upsets, hangovers, bad hair days, days where bosses bitched at us and colleagues screwed us over and a whole lot of really real stuff. And in spite of that, they are still promising to stand by each other and love each for the rest of their lives.

Now you tell me, how does such a strong and mature emotion make a wedding ceremony redundant?

Pati, Patni aur Paisa

2009-09-30T22:28:00.000-07:00

The whole Bombay vs Delhi comparison is based on the belief that both are poles apart. But if theres one thing that is common to both cities is the cabbies who love to talk to their passenger and always unfailingly ask the same question, "aapki shaadi ho gayi?". I'm not sure what they hope to achieve by knowing my marital status - perhaps they just want to know who is this woman roaming around all by herself and whether iske aage peeche koi hai bhi ki nahi

Personally i love chatting up mumbai cabbies - they always have the most interesting take on current events from veggie prices to to murders of prominent politicians and their alleged links with big time businessmen. My personal favourite was this one guy who took me on a mumbai underworld tour of the city on my way to work giving me a blow by blow commentary as we entered and exited various dons 'areas'.

Delhi cabbies on the hand, go straight to the heart of the matter.
Cabbie - aap kaunsi flight se aaye ho
Me - hyderabad se
Cabbie - wahan family se milne gaye the
Me - haan
Cabbie - aapki shaadi ho gayi
Me - haan
cabbie - to aap akele airport se kyon aa rahe the
Me (to self) - Since when do i owe you an explanation
Cabbie - apke pati aapse zyada kamate hai ya kam?
me - errrrrr......
Cabbie - pati ko hamesha zyada kamana chahiye nahin to unki izzat kam ho jaati hai

I mean really, if someone offers me a great salary am i going to say no because i might offend my husband?! A really smart guy (which my husband is) would say "yayyy extra cash" and leave it at that. And here is this guy telling me to not earn too much in my life for fear of upsetting my man. Unbelievable!!! Its positively Victorian. I did not slog through college and graduate school and my job only to pull in the reins because it'll upset some antiquated gender norms.

Bonus

2009-08-26T01:53:00.000-07:00

There's a story doing the rounds in my Company - not sure how true it is but here goes -
One of the employees called a colleague and said "Damn! I just received an sms stating that xy amount has been credited to my account. But dude - why is my salary so bloody low this month?" His colleague said "Hahahahahaha! Buddy that's not your salary - that's your bonus. Pre tax".

Now I'm not going to give you exact percentages and amounts that we get because -
a. The number is so low its embarrasing
b. It doesnt reflect well on my intelligence for sticking around with a company that actually expects a joyous accpetance of such drivel

What I am going to do is put the bonus amount in perspective - almost like looking at the big picture.
My bonus -
a. Does not cover the full amount of 1 round trip air ticket to my home town
b. Covers less than 50% of my monthly rent
c. Is less than 40% of my maid's annual salary
d. Is approx 30% of my annual grocery bill
e. Can be considered fuel money - but I have a diesel car so it really doesnt mean very much
d. Is also known in the organisation as 'pocket money'
f. Will ensure I get laughed out of any financial institution should I take it into my head to 'invest' it

Now lets do some math -
Q: What is x% of p where
p or 'pittance' = salary
x is bonus % where x is an integer and x>0<3

Answer: Nano-pittance (edited by request from a colleague who insists that 'micro - pittance' is not small enough to convey the small-ness of the amount)

Piece of Cake!

2009-08-25T05:25:00.000-07:00

My Company has this quaint little custom of bidding farewell to their soon-to-be ex employees. They bring a cake, invite the whole office to watch the poor creature (well they're leaving-so maybe not so poor) make ineffectual sounds about how much they loved their time at the office, learnt so much from boss and colleagues and will really miss us all. That's right. They loved the company and the people so much, they felt they had no choice but to leave. I'm sure somewhere in this universe running away screaming and pulling out ones hair in disgust and frustration is a sure sign of affection and respect.
Right - back to the 'quaint custom'. So they gather everyone in the pantry for the much awaited 'farewell speech' (which is a bunch of drivel in any case) and then claps politely while the quit-ee makes hesitant incisions on the cake wondering if their last activity in this organisation is to serve everyone cake, like the lame Aunty at kiddy parties who believe no one distributes cake like she does; or wait to be fed cake ala` 'budday party'.
You can always tell when the latter option is being considered by the cake cutter/quit-ee. They always look a little nervous - as if they cant make up their minds as to whether they actually want someone to come and stuff a piece of cake into their mouth or not. The scary part for them I suppose is that what if no one actually came forward to do so - it means that your standing in the information organisational hierarchy is non-existent. Its not the act so much as its the implication of it!!!!
Finally, after all these rituals have been completed, everyone heads for the cake , the quit-ee completely forgotten by the time the first piece has been given out. And then comes my favourite part - when someone is sure to pipe up with the statement that's on everyone's mind, "Wonder what cake they'll bring when its my turn?!"

Anal Banal

2009-07-19T23:59:00.001-07:00

Those two words are the bright lights that got me through the darkest 5 months of my life. In case you're wondering what I'm talking about 'Anal' & 'Banal' are the options MS Word offers as spelling alternatives for the first and last name of my very first boss. Now i know its really stupid and juvenile, but typing out the she-devil's name and then watching spell check correct it gave me a sort of vicious pleasure. At one point i even contemplated learning voodoo - I thought "What have i to lose anyway - the best case scenario if that i might be able to snap her neck off from the comfort of my home, the worst case was that the harpy would remain disgusting healthy". But i never got round to doing it - pity. I wonder if its too late to do it now? What's the statute of limitations on holding a grudge anyway?

Snow White and her Seven Dwarves

2009-07-12T22:08:00.000-07:00

If Snow White were the corporate type her list of seven dwarves would probably run something like this -

Schmoozy – An expert at MAFA (Mistaking Activity For Action). He’s the one who works 5 minutes and spends the next 15 making sure everyone knows who the credit is to go to
Brainy - You’ve got to have one intelligent person onboard otherwise your business will tank
Whiney - Constantly complaining about being overworked yet never actually seems to be seen doing any work
Lackey – Makes a strong effort to schmooze Snow White, however, the difference between Lackey and Schmoozy is that Lackey’s job is completely unrelated to mainstream business yet believes that winning points with Snow White just might be good leverage – for later on
Revolutionary - The one who has a better method for doing everything
Harpy – Has no formal authority but is given freedom to walk all over everybody
Houdini - Aka Finance Girl who makes money disappear off the books

Newbie

2009-06-29T22:15:00.000-07:00

It’s a hot June morning. Its only 9:30am but the heat and the commute makes one anything but cheerful and eager to start the day. And the elevator queue is not helping. However, in this sea of disgruntled humanity of office goers there’s one young man looking expectantly at the elevator - as if they were St Peters gates to heaven. He looks cheerful, enthusiastic and incredibly upbeat.

There’s another person, standing at the end of the line, looking at everyone and everything with a jaundiced eye. As if one was surrounded by nothing but the worst dregs that life could offer. That would be me.

I looked at the kid all the way at the front of the line. “Sucker”, I thought to myself. He clearly had “newbie” written all over him. “Poor soul – he’ll soon learn the error of his assumptions.” And I sent up a heartfelt prayer to God, to take care of him and make sure he got to the other side, if not untouched, then at least in one piece – bruised a little, but more or less alright.

‘Be careful what you wish for’. Clearly, I now wish I’d taken that advice seriously. Have you ever gone to a fancy French restaurant and ordered their ‘famous’ feuillete au foie gras followed by Bavaroise completed by café Liègeois only to find out you’re getting a sausage roll, caramel custard (watery) and cold coffee. Getting a job is like that – at the end of week 6, or thereabouts, you’re thinking “Hey! I didn’t order this!”

Jaws

2009-06-14T03:21:00.000-07:00

If you work in an office with one of those industrial size printers - you will empathise with exactly how much i HATE the one in mine. It seems to know exactly when to act funny. For example, if you have to run out for a meeting where you need 4 copies of a 25 page document, it will say 'paper jam' every 3rd page. Needless to say you end up with just 2 and half copies after wrestling crumpled paper hastily out of the printer (which you just smooth out praying your client and more importantly your boss wont notice) and you're late.

Or if your boss says 'discussion in 5 mins; print this out and come to my office'. 12 mins later you're still staring at the printer desperately willing it to just spit out the damn paper with your boss giving you disapproving looks from where he's seated. Its even worse if you're a woman in the situation, since the next step is to SOS the IT guy who will staunchly maintain that its not his printer, but the way you gave the command from your computer. Exactly how wrong can one click on "print document" be?

In any case what invariably happens is that since the papers crumpled, you're unprofessional;you're late so you don't respect others time, you're unprofessional; you're a woman and panics at the thought of tackling monster gadget, you're unprofessional; you're a woman incapable of handing crisis and therefore unprofessional. With all those 'unprofessional' labels I'm certainly not getting anywhere in the corporate world. Especially not since I cringe at the thought of printing anything longer than 2 pages.

Its one of the top 10 reasons why I'll never get up the corporate ladder. Because the printer just doesn't seem to like me. And i could have sworn my interpersonal skills were above average.

Finance Girl

2009-06-10T05:19:00.000-07:00

Let me introduce you to one of the most aggravating characters in my office - Finance Girl. She doesn't understand anything that's said to her, she needs to be explained everything slowly like shes a 2 year old (maybe mentally she still is 2 years old - like she was dropped on the head). But the reason for which i dislike her most is that every year without fail she manages to "lose" about 30% of my revenue. Don't ask me how - but she does. So Superboss will call and say "by the way (by the way?) you are 40% below target - and I'm sitting there gaping like a fish saying "but...but...but" . Well there really isn't that much to say; and I don't think saying "But i swear i invoiced xyz amount" will help any.
FG not just stupid, she's also annoying - she behaves like she's the one doing you a big favour by keeping track of the money you're making the company. I mean heaven forbid if you ask to do simple things like add, subtract, multiply or - good heavens- divide. I'm convinced that such large amounts are beyond her - after all a human being (and i use the term losely) has only 10 fingers and 10 toes. Beyond that is probably asking too much of her.
So this year again, i find myself having to speak to her (shudder) and ask her, without whacking her (and I'm tempted to do so always), "Where the hell is my money?"

The Organisational Ecosystem

2009-06-09T01:44:00.000-07:00

Some people in my office didn't get the joke. I think its hilarious. But to be fair, it probably appeals to me more as it brings back a memory of one of my bosses in my first job. Its not exactly a bad memory but its so ludicrous that it cant possibly be a good memory either. One particularly trying day (for me, not him) he turns to me and says "its time you realise that in this organisation you are lower than the scum at the bottom of a pond".

At first, of course, i was speechless. Next, i was terribly amused. Then i was annoyed since, clearly, it was meant to be insulting. And then i was amused all over again and have continued to be ever since. What can i say - there must be something wrong with me that i find such hilarity in something that ought to have scarred me for life! But picture this a middle aged guy (well mid thirties but to a 22 yr old its over one hill and halfway over the next) putting a kid, fresh out of college, in her place. I guess you had to be there.

ps: I didn't last in that organisation for longer than 51/2 months. Hmmm - i wonder why?

The Martyr

2009-05-31T06:46:00.000-07:00

My boss's boss (superboss for want of a better word), has a unique take on resource allocation. Its really based on a simple formula. Married employee = reasonable work expectations. Unmarried employee = work your butt off; its not like you have a life to speak of in any case. She's actually been going around telling everyone that these are tough times and everyone's going to have to stretch a bit. Besides since none of them are married, she doesn't see a problem in any case. In sharp contrast is her favourite who got almost a year plus on maternity leave and has now come back to work with the condition that she works from home one week a month. Like a colleague of mine said "i almost feel discriminated against for not having a husband and a baby". My theory is that the Big Boss, who spends a lot of time at work and travelling, feels so guilty about the choice that she's made that she's sort of projecting onto those who don't have to make that choice. I think what she's unconsciously trying to say is that "I've given up so much. What you think you're giving up is really not worth even a mention. I've made the biggest sacrifice so really, i don't see what right you have to complain about anything".
Married woman and the workplace have such an uneasy equation - even in an office where 80% employees are women and its run by a woman (more on that later)

Swamp Inc.

2009-05-28T03:15:00.000-07:00

If you've ever worked in an office you're probably familar with the open plan office - you know the kind with cubicles across the centre with cabins for the higher ups lining the perimieter. You've probably also, at some point in time, looked up to see a colleague's eyes peering at you over the top of your cubicle. Doesnt the action remind you of crocodiles slowly rising out of the water and stoppping with just top of their heads, upto their eyes popping out?? (if you've ever watched Discovery you know exactly what i'm talking about).So what does that say about a regular workplace - you're in a stinky smelly swamp (i.e. your office) and you better watch out for the crocs coz they're always watching you (read the nosy colleague who constantly wants to know what you're doing and is dancing in anticipation for you to slack off so she can tell on you). I suppose it truly is a jungle out there.

Every boss has one!!

2009-05-20T02:28:00.000-07:00

i don't know what you were thinking, but i meant a sidekick. i think every sidekick's induction program includes a spine-ectomy. And they all probably responded to candidate wanted adverts that go like this - "Wanted – Smooth talking candidate with the ability to twist any conversation to obscure its meaning. Ass kissing skills are essential. Blame game playing capabilities are preferred. Those with spine need not apply”.