TATA bye bye

My 5 years in my first company has drawn to an end. And as I look back, I know that it has been one heck of a roller-coaster ride.
I learnt how to actually use a computer - 4 years of engineering and the internet age couldn't make me do it, but work did.
I moved from calling IT and Computer Science engineering graduates as IT guys and included myself in that group of 'techies'.
I was forced to learn computer languages ;0 Harder than that was learning 'People interaction skills'.
Work is never really painful when you look back, but I remember complaining, cribbing that it was so hard and never finished.There were lots of late nights where friends would wait for each other to finish. Then there were the fights - cold war style with so many people who had made life mini-hell for me.Turns out every incident good-bad has actually taught me something, while there are still somethings that I continue to repeat for the heck of it, some are real lessons about what to stay away from.
For the longest time, I hated the open politics or at least the un-acknowledged undercurrent that runs through every team, every office, every group of people. I hated,still do, it when I saw people 'butter' their way through life, though I had lots of people telling me to fit in , I think I took pride in stubbornly staying me. One of my achievements, 5 years in an IT company and I am still BLUNT. Guess thats why only my friends can stand me ;0
I did get a chance to go abroad to the US of A. lots of new things that opened up.
I have made friends for life - that's my favourite part of all the above lot.
It really is funny that at the end of such a long 'journey', it's the smallest things that come to mind.
When I was leaving, I remembered the first time I walked into a lobby and how awed I was at the receptionist talking smooth and juggling 10 calls a minute. I remembered being wow-ed by the entire wall in the ladies room being a mirror.My first look of a cubicle that I had heard so many jokes about.My first manager, the first late night stay, the first appraisal, the first friends, the first team outing, the first salary, the pride in buying something on your own, and so many more. And of course, I did get married while I was in this company.
Sigh, no matter how prepared I was for leaving - 1 month notice is a lot of time - putting on the tag one last time, submitting it to the HR , it did tug at my heart when I saw the big name board on the building one last time, I felt so senti when I was taking my vehicle out the parking lot for the very last time, and the worst was when I was passing the gate for the last time as an employee - I knew it was over - no more turning back.

An ode to the flame

Friday, January 2, 2009

It happened !!! It finally did, the cooker stopped after just one whistle and then died on us. Vc walked in to find that the cooking gas cylinder had finally run out.
It lasted 8 months almost. It gave us a scare a couple of times in its 5th month when the flame turned orange and all thought that it was finally time.
It stood by us when lots of people, parents, friends, the gas agency guy too all ridiculed us that it lasted way longer at our home than any other home they knew.
I will miss the first household appliance that Vc got.
Here's to it's memory !!

Myu tata

Saturday, June 21, 2008

Its about time isnt it ! I mean I am cooking every day and this blog doesnt get all the attention that it actually deserves. yeah yeah rub your hands in glee, coming up is my next 'mis'adventure with cooking :)


What I used :
Pillsbury vanilla cake mix.
Oil
Egg

What I did :
followed instructions on the back of the Pillsbury cover ! duh !!!

And for laughs:
Well, I didnt know that microwaveable bowls cant be used for cooking in the microwave!!
After putting in the batter into the bowl, I realised that my microwave doesnt have a temperature setter, ah well, cant do anything after having come so far, now can I?I put it in anyways and set the timer for 25 mins. I settle down comfortably with a novel waiting for the ting ting ting 'Your food is ready!!!'
I am not sure how much later but I get up to get a nibble since I was getting hungry, and I see smoke billowing out of the kitchen. There's no fire, thank God but the source is ,you guessed it, the hero of the story- my darling mirowave!
I turned off the switch and pull open the door, the plastic bowl's half gone, melted onto the glass floor, bursting as it died onto to walls of its confines changing the palette of heaven to that of hell.The cake was still there, it dint vaporise!!! darn!!! but it had turned into stone(the mister checked)

End Result :
The smoke caused far too much of coughing and brought about a mini-breathing issue not to mention burning eyes!
Its been 3 days and there's a faint burnt odour in my kitchen and not just when I open that darned door!
The inside of my brand new microwave oven has turned from white to a dirty brown(not on the outside though, its mishaps are its to hide ;))

Moral of the story: Dont get into cooking extra stuff just coz you got home early from work !!!

Peas Pulao

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

What I used:
Rice(Cooked)
Peas
Onions
Green Chillies
Oil
Salt
Cardamom
Cloves
Ginger-Garlic paste
Sugar

What I did:
Started with the rice cooker, got to have the rice ready before we start.

Chop up the onions and green chillies.Heat some oil in the kadai(and definitely do no add ginger-garlic paste now!!!) Add the cardamom and cloves, followed by onions and chillies. And now the ginger garlic paste. Wait till all looks fairly cooked and add the pretty peas :D. Give them some time (and don't let them get squishy!) and add the rice, some salt and a dash of sugar. Mix it all up properly and tadaaaaaaa......

and for laughs:
I got to move Vc away from the tv and come running into the kitchen ! All I had to do was heat the oil in the pan and add the ginger-garlic paste directly. It spewed it all out like there was no tomorrow, I had stand at the far end of the kitchen and watch all the oil spurt out all over the clean ledge and all the utensils kept around. We couldn't even reach the stove to turn it off, the brave knight tried to by shielding himself with a towel, but just as he reached out to turn the stove knob, a nice drop of boiling oil landed right on his wrist and he hopped back into the safe zone ! I ended up with a half burnt pan and it took me 15 mins to clean up the oil splattered all over the walls and the floor , not just the ledge ! and I did have an oil coated cucumber to contend with ;)
and of course,Vc says "Tv isnt as interesting as the kitchen ;) "
Made my day !!! uahahhahhahahaaaa ....

End Result:
Not happy with the result :(

Good 'ol Indian Pizzzzzzzza ...

Saturday, March 8, 2008

What I used:
Mozarella cheese
Pizza base
Veggies:-
Beans
Carrots
Cabbage
Capsicum(I know, Its not there in the snap)
Onions
Green Chillies
Tomato sauce
Garam Masala
Oil
Salt
Microwave Oven

What I did:
Chop up the vegetables.Heat some oil in the kadai, chillies go in first, followed by the onions until they are a light brown. The veggies go in next. Add salt as per taste and a sprinkling of garam masala. Toss it around for a while till properly cooked.
Spread tomato sauce on the base, the vegetable fry goes on top of that. And grated cheese right on top, generously please.
Set the microwave oven in convection mode at 190 deg C, pizza on a microwaveable plate for 4 minutes.
and tat-ta-daaaaaa.

and for laughs:
Well me cooks and you don't get a laugh or I don't get scolded, nah, not possible!!
I had put one in the microwave and was getting the second one ready and I smell smoke.I was worried the pizza was burning, but nah it wasn't that.There was smoke coming out of the electrical socket.The poor thing had fused.And yours truly decided to do it the old fashioned way. Put on the dosa tava on low heat and put pizza2 on that.And 5 minutes later the base had fried out, charred black.
I had dad's lecture about not being patient enough to wait till he got another adapter.Mom saying she was trying to make it while waiting (scores a point).HeHeHe

End Result:
All still standing and it was rather good, if I may so.

Desserts galore

Monday, August 11, 2008

Will you believe it ?? I actually made Gulab Jamoons and Coconut burfi last week !
I am so happy I could do a somersault :D not really no, all my 'colleagues' would be scandalised.

Gulab Jamoon was rather simple. Of course it always is when you have a ready mix packet in hand ;)
I used 100gms of the GulabJamoon mix, a dash of water to make it into dough, Sugar and water to make a sugar syrup. It took me just half an hour to make it.

Mix sugar:water at 1:2 ,set it to boil. Mix the dough, it takes verrry little water . Keep aside for 5 minutes.
Make small balls of the dough (the size of marbles is good enough) . I made them the size of the jamoons that are ready to be eaten. I was sort of heartbroken that 100gms of powder yields only 5 Jamoons. I mean, when my mom made them , I could eat 5 each day for a week and they would still be some left for others too ;)
On a medium flame, 'fry' the batter-balls in oil till they get to a honey-ish brown colour.
And then the fun part, dunk the roasted balls into the hot sugar syrup. They semi-sink with a hiss (I did jump back a bit not sure what woould happen, but other than the fizzing , nothing else did) .
I left them in the syrup and by the time I was done cleaning up, I saw them becoming big, soaking in the sugar and looked like they were trying to escape from the vessel. Had to put them into two seperate vessels.
We finally ended up with Gulab Jamoons the size of Ragi mudde uahahahahahahaa .....

The coconut burfi was right out of a recipe on the net. Grate a coconut, fry it slightly.Add elaichi powder to it. Make sugar syrup , make sure its 'tight'/ and put the fried copra into the syrup.
Voila ! Its done!
But how can we leave at peace, what will happen to us adding a touch of individuality to it??
Vc saunters in, adds badam powder (to change the color), he tilts his head left and then right,(he's not too happy about the color). He (hold your breath) peels badam and adds it on top.
I was almost going to wait for it to harden so I could make squares and then cut it(like in the shops duh!) , but turns out the syrup was more than the coconut could handle.
We had the sweet today morning . Sort of had to drink it like a soup ;)
uahahahahahhaaaa

Hero

I saw one of the weirdest movies yesterday, weirdest EVER. The plot is about a supposed-psycho who does some really whacko things all through but in the end - he's the hero, he's the scarily-selfless sacrificer and that makes it a happy ending.
His idea of making friends is - ask a guy if he knows how to swim and on learning that he can't swim, push him into the water, wait for him to struggle and call for help, save him - then say 'I helped you, we are friends now'. That people, is the opening scene.
He acts like he's a PERFECT guy in office and has everyone literally bowled over, in walks the heroine, and he kisses her as soon as they are alone in a lift - their first conversation. And there were people laughing in the theatre at this.Imagine, in real life, a guy kissed a total-stranger-newcomer in a lift. I am sure there will be a dozen committees waiting to take that guy down. The heroine complains to the HR and the HR tells her she is hallucinating, because the hero is PERFECT and wont do that. And there people guffawing uncontrollably at that scene.
Sigh, I was really worried what I had dragged myself into.
While, as an actor, the hero really made me believe he was off the hinge, he did an amazing job at dancing, really outstanding. The script writing was probably different/unique while I am not a fan of the story, I can acknowledge the script writer and the art director for putting out something sort of intelligent on screen.

Oh - the movie is Arya-2.

It sort of got me to think, why I was uncomfortable with a weirdo for a hero. Why I was uncomfortable that he was uncouth with the heroine is definitely not being questioned ;)
We are used to a hero being, well, a hero. Extremely well cultured, well mannered, perfect (really perfect, not fake perfect), can fight 2 dozen men gun-toting men single-handedly with bare hands, who absolutely adores the heroine,always does the right thing.
Now, I think, we idolize heroes and expect them to be like that, because that is what sets them apart from being ordinary- that is why he is THE hero, duh!! If he breaks/doesn't conform to any of the above aspects of his definition, he is like us, so how can he be the hero.
It doesn't matter if he doesn't get the girl, he sacrifices her for her happiness/for traditions/some other unwritten law that binds him and makes us realise his greatness in doing it.A hero has to be great, has to do what no one else can do, has to be amazingly God-like, otherwise, it'll be an ART FILM!!!
he he he
Well, I did adore the hero in Magadheera - he could kill 100 men and still stand, he is reborn again to claim the woman he couldn't get in the past birth where he sacrifices his love for her since the king demands it against his honour.
That's my hero - honour, valour, belief in the power of his word.

And the weird part is, by the time Arya-2 was ending, I sort of pitied the hero who was giving up the girl he loved because he loved his friend more (even if the friend hated him). I realised that since we can't get all the qualities of a legendary hero, we make do for a few and overlook all the scary-psycho-weird-freaking parts.
Just like we accept other people in our life - s/he is like this and that, but s/he has these great qualities, so , I like him/her. No back and white anymore, we live with the greys, eh?

Would I recommend Magadheera, without even thinking once , forget thinking twice. But would I recommend Arya-2 .- hmmm, ummm , uhhhh , maybe you should check it out for yourself. Maybe you will have fun seeing a 'different' movie.

yayyyyaaaaayyyyayyy

I lost a kg ... and I am loving it. tralalllaalaalllaaaa ...
oh and 10 new dresses actually might be a reason too.

La la land

When people see me sitting with 600-700 page novels, 90% of the time, their response is varying levels of shock, wonder and partial pity on me that I am suffering through so many pages of the written word.
And the very same people who don't know even as many authors as I do(all of 4 - Ayn Rand, Robert Ludlum, Robert Jordan and John Grisham) love to snicker when they see me reading a Mills and Boon.
I don't understand what the big deal is. There was a phase when I went through my share of MnB, way back when I was school. I remember it being totally unrealistic, hopelessly romantic and always with a happy ending. And then I went through a phase for the last 10 years or so where I looked down upon them. How I caught that view, I have no idea! But recently, when I wanted to read a light book, the first thing that caught my eye was an MnB.Predictable plot line, warped sense of feminism, exotic people and location, fairytale romance - it had it all - and surprisingly, I didn't mind it.
I think I got tired of all the novels dealing with the reality of suffering, pain, death, honour, various kinds of subterfuge and the other set of novels set in pure fantasy of dragons, magic, kings and what nots.
This book was such a refreshing change. I tried reading other chick-lit - Danielle Steel-but she kills too many people in her plot - sad touch again. Whereas the dear MnBs restrict themselves purely to the 'tension' of 'does he like me, does he not' and since we know 'he does', we are happy for the heroine too :)
Next time you look down on an MnB, just remember, it could just be your escape into light, reading and some amount of romanticism. Real life is all around you anyways, why go looking for it when you read for pleasure !!

Software project

I am taking on a project which I hope will do some good to organisations that help the needy. A friend of mine was organising computer education for the masses with the help of engineering students and while discussing with him, I realised there was an opportunity for something mutually beneficial.
Most NGOs dont get the recognition/ media mention inspite of all the work they do. A small thing like presence of a website on the internet will open up more support for them. Or maybe internal software for things like accounting, or keeping track of resources used, etc. More often than not, they cannot afford to pay someone to build software for them.
All engineering students work on at least 2 projects in the 6th and 8th semester and most of the times, the projects are not reusable/ are just discarded having served their purpose.
So, I propose this. What if the students worked on projects that can be given as a product to any NGO/group that needs it. The students can use freeware/open source tool and languages. Software professionals can be involved who will help them design and execute the projects or probably even the lecturers can mentor that.
The students will get to work in a real world scenario of Requirement gathering, Analysis, Design, Development, Testing and Delivering and I am sure that will look great on a resume when a student can say - "I built this website and an organisation is using it"
So, what do you think .. will it work,can we make it happen

Software project

I am taking on a project which I hope will do some good to organisations that help the needy. A friend of mine was organising computer education for the masses with the help of engineering students and while discussing with him, I realised there was an opportunity for something mutually beneficial.
Most NGOs dont get the recognition/ media mention inspite of all the work they do. A small thing like presence of a website on the internet will open up more support for them. Or maybe internal software for things like accounting, or keeping track of resources used, etc. More often than not, they cannot afford to pay someone to build software for them.
All engineering students work on at least 2 projects in the 6th and 8th semester and most of the times, the projects are not reusable/ are just discarded having served their purpose.
So, I propose this. What if the students worked on projects that can be given as a product to any NGO/group that needs it. The students can use freeware/open source tool and languages. I will provide involve software professionals who will help them design and execute the projects or probably even the lecturers can mentor that.
The students will get to work in a real world scenario of Requirement gathering, Analysis, Design, Development, Testing and Delivering and I am sure that will look great on a resume when a student can say - "I built this website and an organisation is using it"
So, what do you think

The other side of 70

I finally gathered the courage to actually check my weight - I've crossed 70 kgs. It's not a big deal or that's what I had thought. But, now, I have been putting together a lot of small details that happen in daily life and I realise that being 10kgs more than normal really does affect me.
I put off buying clothes so I could wait till I lose weight and now, I have a daily crisis situation to dress up for work. There was a time when I wouldn't repeat a dress in 6 weeks or so , but now, I wear the same clothes next Monday which I did this Monday. I have to buy clothes in the 'L' section and they are all so misshapen and ballonish. I have stopped wearing jeans coz no one sells wearable T-shirts above S and M.
People who are just meeting me assume that I am this real old 'aunty' who wears sarees all the time, oh yeah, I went through a saree phase coz they fit faithfully no matter how many shapes you change.
I keep worrying about eating less. I always start on diets only to be scolded by everyone around me about the side[read - bad] effects of dieting. I joined yoga classes and in just 1 session, the knee pain kicked up and I had to quit the classes to ensure my knee doesn't worsen.Its so frustrating to feel helpless about not being able to go for a walk without wondering how much harm a measly walk can cause.
I just checked my Picasa albums, turns out last year there were 42 albulms, and this year, hold your breath - 1. I have gotten rather agreeable about not going on any trips and that sometimes feels downright bad.
On the surface, when I think of it as a third person, it feels downright silly. Its just vanity. I can accept myself for the way I am, that in time, I will get back to being my own self and I really do that, but sometimes it gets hard.
The thing is, in the last month, I have found that there is this immense energy/will power/josh in a person just waiting to be called upon. I have set forth with a new enthusiasm for life, I am beginning to work on multiple ideas simultaneously and literally giving the good old wheels in the brain a royal wake up call.
I am just so glad to be out here and realise that I have so much potential to make a difference.
I always had this huge thought in my mind - If everyone dies, no matter how much they have achieved/ what difference they have made to others/ how many people remember them, what's the big deal about living.- And I suddenly got the answer that, its not just about living, its about how you lived it. Like they say, its not only about reaching the destination, its about enjoying the journey.
And the best part about this realisation is, I cannot allow myself to feel sorry for myself or let me take a backseat when my life is chugging along full speed. and that my dears is an A1 feeling.
there was this scene in wake up Sid , where Sid is with his friend, the one who is worried about her weight and calls herself an elephant.It is a very touching moment and he says 'You are not an elephant,........ bhains maybe'. And that was really worth a smile.
Who cares who you are, what you are or where you are, as long as you can really live the way you want to .
For now, this is where the ramblings stop, but coming up will be lots of exciting stuff ...
Coming soooooooon

Yappy budday

Happppppppppppppppppppppppy Birthdayyyyyyyyyy hubby dearest

Just to write

Been a zamana since I have written. Not sure why I didn't write and not really sure what I have sat down to write now.
Since this is a weblog, let me start off by updating my 'diary' about what's the latest that's happening.
I am finally going back to work, though currently just to talk to managers in hope of finding a nice project - Work status is ' bench '.
Other than that, everything's looking great ... till next time ... toodalooooo

My daddy strongest

I just saw an episode of 'The Wonder Years', the one in which Kevin goes to his dad's office and learns a lot about him - his dreams, the work he does, how he handles stuff, etc. He sees his dad as a man with power, just in the way he punches the numbers on the telephone/ the way he handles people and he feels proud for his dad and thinks that he is the best man ever and one who is too good for this place.
And just then a superior walks in and blasts his dad and the whole dreamy world of 'My daddy strongest' is swept away in the blink of an eye.

Aren't we all just like that? For the longest time, I believed[and a part of me still does] that my dad was the best man in the world, that he was the strongest - he could beat anybody up, he could make all my bad dreams go away and I would never be afraid if he was around, that he was the smartest, that he talks so well and can get any work done, he's just so dependable and of course - I do take it for granted that it is so, especially since he is MY dad and he is the best in the whole wide world.
Fathers are mostly made out to be the distant parent, just the providers for the family and bad at communicating their feelings/showing them. But I think I never found my dad not-approachable or was ever really afraid of him.
My aunt loves telling this story about when I was around 6-7 years old and had done something really dumb and totally freaked out my dad.It seems he took a belt in his hand and was walking towards me. It seems everyone in the room was horrified[because my parents never hit their children and never have until now], but me, I was the only one who was completely calm, without a trace of fear, for I was sure that I wasn't going to be beaten. My aunt still recalls it with awe, that I just stood there so casually.
As the years pass by, you do realise he's not the most powerful man on earth, that he too is human just like me. That, I feel, makes it all the more special. The special bond of the father-child, where you feel safe, secure, loved, happy and look forward to being with your dad. I have learnt a lot from him, still am learning and I know, there are so many things that he is good at, that I may never even learn them. He's still my idol on so many levels, it's surprising.
And as I think of it, I realise that I still am that child at some level.
I just read that and it seems like I forgot about my mum in all this, but I know what an angel she is[and that's for another time]. The pillars in my life- my parents, they rock.

Update

Turned out physiotherapy caused me more pain and had my knee sport a swelling the size of a lemon. Alright, that was gross, I know ;d
And this time the doctor told me to go in for an arthroscope where the surgeon will remove the part of the cartilage that is torn and also do a 'Lateral Release'. I was convinced that this was the only option left. An operation and finally release from my knee pain, even though it meant at least 6 weeks of physiotherapy and maybe 6 months for complete recovery.
That night, calls went out to all the doctors that all my family members know, with the result that surgery is the last option/worst case scenario and that I should not do it unless the doctor was THE best and after I had exhausted all other options.
A family friend came up with the idea of going in for ayurveda/nature cure d try the Puttur Bone Setters.
While I was initially against the idea, I did go ahead with it. Anything that may help, has to be tried, right.
I never knew that it would get this bad. While I am not wallowing in self-pity, I do wonder if I should be handling this better, I do get the feeling that I crib and complain more than necessary.The pain is bearable 60percent of the time, I AM tired of struggling with almost every task but when I see people telling me that they have ligament tears over years and haven't gone in for surgery, I know it is wrong on their part to delay the inevitable surgery and hence the healing process, but they are taking it and still doing lots of athletic stuff- it makes me wonder.
Maybe I am more susceptible to pain, maybe I am afraid of letting things be and getting up one day to realise that there is irreversible damage.Maybe I just want my normal life back. And fast.
I do wonder if I still remember what is normal.
Recently, I saw this scene where a woman sank to the floor, knees first, to talk to another person sitting on the floor. The feeling that 'I may never be able to do that ever again, for all my life' suddenly hit me. Not a good place to be in, most definitely not.
Well, I know, its not a big deal for anyone other than me and my family, but us, it's a real problem, dealing with it on a daily basis is daunting. I am beginning to feel like some invalid.
Just last night we got tickets for all to see the Preview of Terminator Salvation and my mom chose not to go because I would have to be home alone if all went to the theater.
WHOW, that was morose.
Well, there still are options out there. I will heal. That is a fact. And therein lies hope too.
In the meanwhile, I am spending all day lying down with my leg straight [ did you know when you have to keep it straight, all you want to do is to bend it], an occasional hour or so at the laptop, some on tv[catching up on all the ads on tv, having no cable for a year can do that to you, but that's a story for another time, reading 2 novels simultaneously[The Sword of Shannara somehow reminds me of Lord of the Rings and Jeffrey Archer's twists have stopped feeling 'out of the world' to me].
That's it for the update and finally sitting up long enough to write something.
Maybe its time for me to put my time and energy into something constructive. Any ideas?

One measly month

This is a continuation of "Discoid Meniscus"
I applied for a month off, so I could give my leg complete rest and give it a 100% chance of recovery so I could avoid surgery.
The person who is 2 levels above me got the news on Monday noon. I was to have a discussion with her on Tuesday for which I waited the whole day and it never happened. Wednesday, I was asked to call her. I did at 1pm, when she was busy. At 3pm, when she was busy again and asked me to call at 5.30pm. At 5.30pm where she didn't even consider it necessary to pick up and waste her breath to tell me to call back again, so the call was cut.
Thursday afternoon, my manager says "She's available, call now". I call and she says
"I have wanted to talk to you about the leave, you haven't given enough notice."
"I got to know on Friday evening and informed my manager on Monday. And this is a health thing, not something I could plan in advance."
"It's not like you are having heart surgery today afternoon, then we can consider"
(If I have a heart surgery today afternoon, she will consider, I suppose I should thank the Gods for it)
and some other nonsense later, she continues
"Anyway, the client will want 2 weeks notice"
"But this is medical. Also, the onsite co-ordinator has already said that the client will be ok with it since it is health related".
"Why is there this miscommunication, the client has to always be informed 2 weeks in advance"
(Probably even if I am clutching my heart and dying right now, I will have to wait 2 weeks to get a doc)
"We have been very considerate towards you, we already let you have almost 3 weeks off in December. You have to show some responsibility towards your project"
"I remember our conversation in December, you accused me of lying and faking a problem"
She laughs (she has the bloody audacity to do that)
"That is what I thought then, but this is different"
(How so, I beg you, enlighten me)
"I will finish any KT in a few days, the client won't have a problem. Please think about it from my point of view, I don't want to risk it any more"
"You are being so stubborn, thinking only about yourself"
(Like she's going to do anything for me if I HAVE to get a surgery done. And at least she's supposed to consider what I need)
"But it is my health. How can I take another chance. Do think from my point of view"
"I am thinking from your side. I have offered you two weeks"
(And this is where any semblance of polite talk disappeared)
"But that is what you started off with, you haven't offered me anything!!"
"If this is how you want to do it, my answer is no, you won't get leave, I need to think about it. Two weeks definitely. I consider this discussion completed."
"This is necessary for me." (a pathetic, grovelling, embarassing, last ditch effort from me)
"My final answer is NO".

One measly month off at a project I have worked 1.5 years on, in a company I have worked 4.8 years in.
What do you think I should do now?

Discoid Meniscus

This is a continuation of Housemaid's Knee.

The 6th doc I consulted told me to go in for an arthroscopy where they will put 2 pins between the knee cap and the bone, so your pain can be avoided.
The 7th doc to whom I went for a second opinion told me not to be hasty and asked me to get an MRI done.
That in itself is an experience, I was given a gown that reminded me of Silas from The DaVinci Code, it was a full length, full sleeved roomy robe in a deep hue. I had seen the MRI machine in many episodes of 'House' and thought that its absolutely no big deal and best thing, it's painless!
It's like this huge tunnel looking thing with a sleeper-cot at the center, I was asked to lie down, the technician put two pad-type objects above and below the knee and put on earphones around my head(For a second, I did that this was reallllly cool !!!) and then he said, "The machine can be really noisy, this will reduce it for you. This may take around 15 minutes". Sigh ;)
The machine had a steady hum, like an extended heart beat with musical noise in between. I was rather getting used to it when the machine started up like a a car/generator powering up. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was , I admit, scary. For no reason at all. The noise reminded me of the start of the song "Pyar karke pachtaya" from Pyar ke Side Effects, there's a weird noise in it like a stuck record.
I couldn't lift my head to look into the tunnel, I had been warned to make absolutely no movements. And just when I realised that I make sure that I don't move and forced my concentration on that , my leg twitched !! uahahahhahahahahahaaa .. I did worry that they would ask me to do it again since the image might have gotten distorted !! And then stopped, so I made myself concentrate on the left leg, it didn't twitch but just shook like I was about to start on a dance move! This concentrating this is a real pain, I put my mind onto seeing the pattern on the ceiling and then there was no sign of twitches, but I did notice 2 cracks in the ceiling , that the MRI machine was made by Philips, that the lights were pretty, and I think I would have gone on like that, till the sounds stopped and it was the steady hum again.Had it been 15 mins? I didn't think so, and the whole ordeal happened again for the 4 times that the machine stopped and started - changing angles I imagine.
Well, I went back to the doc and he said, Nope, definitely not Bursitis(which he had told me the previous day too). Turns out my knee joint was jolted out of place when I fell and the ligament got stretched(thankfully, not torn). He said, "I want you to undergo physiotherapy for a month and then we can see if there is improvement and decide if there is need for surgery. We can release the ligament from under the bone with surgery then"
Yippppppppppeeeeee ! I am relieved that I know what the problem is.
Try being in constant pain for 10 months plus.
Try having to shift out of your beautiful home since you can't climb stairs.
Try having a conversation with everyone where the first statement is invariably "Hows your knee now?"
Try not being able to stand long enough to cook a simple meal.
Try not being able drive for more than 20 mins without immense pain.
Try going to places that have only the Indian style restrooms.
Try having put on 15kgs in a few months because you can't walk/jog/join a gym to lose weight.
Try having only a measly fruit bowl for lunch every single weekday.(and still not losing any weight)
Try having to keep away a dozen new dresses since you can't fit into them anymore.

Well, it does help having a husband who does all the work without complaining (while I lie on the sofa) and tells me I don't look fat at all (even when I weigh 70kgs).
and that is why I am relieved that I know what the problem is, finally!
At least, I can get my physiotherapy and fix it. Or worst case scenario, get a surgery done (and that is something, I most definitely don't want to do)

Home sweet home

We've been looking for a house to shift for some time now, another rental. The search in itself is tedious but humour finds its way in sometimes.
There's a Real Estate agency that calls itself L.J.Hooker and always advertises on the net by the name of Rekha. I have called them multiple times but its always a guy who picks up and redirects me to another guy who is the 'area manager'.
There was this guy who picked up the phone and said "Hello" with an accent that showed that he was more comfortable in the vernacular(yes, my assumption, but it sounded very very south Indian), so I spoke in the vernacular and he turned around with a "Yes, ma'am if you tell me what you are looking for ... ", so I changed tracks and said "We are looking for a house in the X range with Y amount of bedrooms and a car park, it should be a residential area ...... " it took me close to a minute to say all this and he says "Eh, yenu?" and I had to repeat all that in Kannada.
One of my faves was this guy who I spoke to only over the phone, the conversation went thus :
"Hello, I am calling about this house advertised in XYZ .. "
Sorry please, the amount is not correct please.(It showed 5k lesser than what the owner was expecting)
That's ok, is it on the ground floor?
No, please. It is on 3rd floor please.
Does the building have lift?
No, please how can 3rd floor have lift please. No please no please.(and he put the phone down)

I seriously didn't know how to find the info amongst all those pleases!!

There was this guy on a TVS 50 who was showing us a couple of houses that were available. He would keep zooming on the main road on the wrong side and find his route through the shadiest looking gullies and finally come out in front of some wonderful houses, but the journey was scary enough to wonder whether we could make it in on our own! He tried convincing me that there is barely any need to climb stairs to get to the first floor!!

We went searching in the by lanes for a house once and stopped to ask directions and the guy turned out to be a real estate agent who wanted to show us other houses.

Then, there are the shady types :
I call up this guy and say "I am calling about this house, which you have advertised as being close to the X landmark, is it still available"
"Yes, it is"
"Exactly where near X does it come?"
"Exactly near X ma'am"
"Near the bank in the front of X or the restaurant behind X?"
"Near X ma'am"
Now that was getting nowhere, so I ask, "Is the house on the ground floor"
"Yes"
"Does it have a car park"
"Yes. When will you come to see it"
"Is Saturday ok?"
"Ok. What is your budget."
"X"
"For X, you wont get car parking ma'am"
"But you just told me that the house I called up about has car parking and it says that the rent amount is X"
"No, that was for a Y+1 number of bedrooms, you want only Y"
"But you just told me ... "
"Yes"
"So is it available or not"
"You come and see ma'am"
"Don't ask me to come if you don't have anything that suits my requirement"
"Ok Ok"
and the phone gets cut !! (was I fuming then !! )

There are probably many other stories but sigh, I just want to find a pretty little house.

There's no place like home

This was written while waiting for my connecting flight to Bangalore at the Mumbai airport, in the wee hours of the morning , having just landed back from foreign shores. I was so excited and so unable to sit still that I needed something to occupy myself and I took out the laptop and started writing what I was feeling, it is incomplete of course, since I was more interested in hearing the call that 'The Bangalore flight is ready for boarding'.

The first thing that I see as soon as I land in India is the dis-obeyal of rules. Made me smile.Then there was the queue to get through migration and we had the usual jostling and 'breaking of queue', people slipping in left and right and the concept of personal space totally violated.There was this lady who seemed to think that shoving her bag into my back was a way to move faster.and hence my first irritated expression which I haven't felt in the last 10 months, at least not for the same reason.Then there was the airport security check, they had just one row for a few hundred passengers and having said that I must mention that it moved very fast.security did seem lax for there was a water bottle in my bag which almost always resulted in a personal human baggage check and me having to lose 15 mins extra coz of that, but here, the bag was just kept aside and I could just pick it up and go my way.The staff was helpful though, turns out the metal detectors that are used for the ladies, seem to pick up the back pocket buttons also! that was a little weird , the lady kept trying to check what made the beep and it was quite some time before I realised that the pockets had buttons on them.
and finally !! most importantly, the first thing I thought of when I landed was "Yeh jo desh hai mera , swades hai mera" and that put on the biggest smile on my face.There seemed to be not as much excitement as I expected considering that I spent the last 7 months waiting to get back home, but honestly , being in a flight full of Indians(I just typed desis and had to erase it and make it Indian, coz of obvious reasons). There is something that totally tugs at the heart strings, the feeling of being back in India, of being back home, seeing all ladies in sarees.. It doesn't seem anything like people warned, I was told there'll be a 2 month withdrawal period before you get back to accepting what I spent 23 years of my life in.Well, maybe early to say so considering all that I have seen is the airport only so far.
But baby, It feels great to be back home! I am loving it ! No more McD's , no more SUbways , plain old masala dosas and vadas and sambars and chutneys ... Yummmmmmmmy !!
Friends, family , familiar surroundings... sigh, what I have been pining for for the last 10 months, almost since the day that I left .... I am home . I keep saying that to myself as I sit here in this airport lounge and wait for the last flight that I want to take in a journey that started exactly on October 25 last year.I think outside of home and office, if there was a place that I spent time in , it was in airports.
I really do wonder if I achieved what I set out to do, a part of me wanted to explore more than the limited pond that I seemed to grow up in , another part of me wanted adventure and something new and exciting... a part that wanted something new ... I wonder if I found all that in the last couple of months, I know for sure that when I got my tickets in hand to return to Blore , the first thought that ran through my head was "Is it 10 months already, what have I done in all of these months, I am going to go back home and everything is going to be exactly the same, nothing has changed , nothing will, I am probably the same that I was 11 months ago, just feels like the page of a year of my life has gone by without much having happened" but then I also know that I have grown up, learnt to be a little more self-dependant, learnt to be my own person and have sort of formed an identity of my own, I have had to face all my shortcomings in the face, I had to face my worst fears, I had to learn to depend on myself, in the same breath, I also learnt that the actual independance that I was seeking is impossible,man is a social being, nothing can get done in the best possible way if you don't have the support or advice of someone who's been there before or done it.

A dime a dozen

I have been reading this past week and how.

The Da Vinci Code
Deception Point
The Prodigal Daughter
A Matter of Honour.
Dhammara
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's stone
and currently
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

I couldn't finish Dhammara though, it was really boring. I didn't know I had THAT much free time at hand.
(whoa, that's almost a book a day !!!)

Cleaning out my cupboard

I did the darndest thing yesterday.
It started with me rolling up my sleeves(literally) to clean out my old lot of 'gifts/greeting cards'. I had three big bags of them to clear and started sifting through them and as was inevitable got into the flashback mode for many of them.
The oldest I had was from when I was in the 5th std. A friend had given me a 3D card of a sailor and a small boy waving to a ship at sea, move the card and the ship moves. This girl now has her own 2 year old daughter!
There were lots of birthday cards, best of luck for exam cards, festival greetings, a bunch of letters from a penpal, pocket sized telephone directories and birthday remindes.
I found a piece of paper that was torn off from a Hindi text book, the corner part, where I had written down the birthdays of 5 of my 12th std friends in about 1.5 inches of space.
I found a packed which had around 10-15 friendship bands from the 12th std, some from my college, some from my tuitions, and best of all, I still remembered who had given me which one.
There were of course many cards which had "All of us" signed at the bottom and no year, so I wasnt sure which gang this was nor which year I had gotten it on.
Another card that a couple had given to me saying that "This is the first time we are doing anything as a couple". It felt so good to see that.
Then there were a few lines of Shayari written on foolscap sheet by a friend, a budding poet 10 years ago, not sure if he still keeps at it. I wish he does though.
It was a nice walk down memory lane, one that brought back memories I hadnt raked up in years. Its nice to know that I havent forgotten so many of those incidents. But I do wonder how many I have indeed forgotten.
All these were the gifts of my school and then +2, I wonder what happened to all the gifts I got during my graduation and working period. I guess, they turned to be gifts that are in the showcase at home, at school, I guess a card is the most affordable, the older you get , the more you can spend, right.
Yup, coming right to the darndest thing point. I think I mentioned a phone directory stowed away in the midst of those cards, I was going through the name (I actually couldnt recall some of the people's faces even with their names and numbers in front of me).I saw a name , A, a friend from 12th, actually, my friend K's friend. K was a really good friend to me in those two years, we'd spent a lot of time in labs, lunch and after school hours, we'd end up in her house pretty often talking for hours. Probably my closest confidante of that time. We finished 12th, I moved to another college while she continued on in the same one for her graduation and somehow we never met after that. It is pretty surprising, now when I think of it. I lost of a close friend out of sheer negligence of keeping up a friendship.
Like my mom says, life always puts new people in your path, most of the old ones drop off with time and the new ones sort of fill up that gap till the next new one comes along. The few that stay with you are the ones for keeping.It isnt that they changed or like you lesser or any logical reason, things just happen. You live with it.
Sometime after I got onto Orkut, I tried searching for her , lots of times, but for the life of me , I couldnt remember her last name, I still sifted through hundreds of records with the first name and gave up thinking that she probably isnt on that website.
On a whim, I took the phone and dialed A's number, this being a landline, I hoped her parents would be able to tell me her current number and I could get to K through her at least.It really didnt register on my mind, that the number I had was 10 years old, that her parents might not live there anymore, that she could be married/working/studying somewhere continents away, that she may not be in touch with K. I guess I need to do things like that more often, just do it before I can think of all the reasons it will fail.
As luck would have it, she was there, (I am sure her father wondered why I called up on a landline and asked if a Ms A lives there and then introduced myself as a 12th standard classmate to him) but of course she had absolutely no idea who I was.
I tried giving some 'clues' about me, "I was on the college throwball team", "We used to sit in the cycle stand after classes and discuss Mrs. G's latest funny statements", "I used to hang out with K in labs". Absolutely no go, I rattled off a few other names from their group and she at least was convinced that I am not a total nut case and there's probably some authenticity.
But, bless her for this, she told me that K was on Orkut and gave me the mail ID.
I have shot off a friend request and have my fingers crossed that she at least remembers me :)

Writer ?

This is going to be true ramblings, I have been meaning to write something for over a week now and havent been able to think of a single thing to write about.If I were indeed a writer, I guess it would be a wonderful example of writer's block.
I wonder if I will ever be a writer, as in write something that I can think of as a piece of readable, interesting, well-put, well thought out litereary piece.
Maybe not. But then who knows, the future may need 'would-be-authors' like me.
There was this movie I forced myself to watch, just so I could get to the ending, where this writer has writer's block, she is trying to figure out how to kill the main character of her novel and ends up going to bizarre places and doing even more bizarre things just to get inspired.
She goes to a hospital emergency ward and realises that people are getting healed here inspite of the urgency and severity of the problems, so she asks one of the staff "Where are the people who are dying, who will die, where do you keep them?" and gets this weird look in return which could be interpreted to mean, "May be you want the psychiatry ward for yourself".
Then she rolls off her car into a lake in winter just to see how the dying person would feel and realises that she wouldn't like it either when she's shivering sodden wet and smoking her trademark cigarette.
Wow, it is so much easier to describe something that you have seen or read rather than to try and come up with something original isn't it?
For instance, lets say you can beautifully report something but you just don't have the creativity to invent characters and situations, does that make you less of a writer or does that just make you someone with limited creativity.
Hahahhhaaa, I like that word limited, it is such a wonderful way of saying almost none.
One wonders at all the words and phrases that are in use just to sugarcoat the actual essence - take for instance- vertically challenged, would you honestly be able to say that a person being called vertically challenged will take that description better than being called short? Won't s/he know the difference, rather, the lack of a difference?
We shouldn't call a spade a spade.
Isn't that a big part of writing, the more accomplished writer you are, the directly proportional the size and obscurity of words that you use.For a long time, I assumed that someone with a good command over the language and a vast collection of big words undoubtedly assured your position as a good writer.
Turns out, its not true. When I read something, I believe I need to feel the emotion being spelt out, understand the story and have fun while doing it.
It can be looked at from another angle where, if the reader is as educated as the author, then maybe he enjoys the finer nuances and higher intellect more. So, if I was an author, I would want all to read my stuff, so that would mean, the max length of words I use wouldn't probably cross 8 letters.
There was one occassion in Hindi class at School that I remember, where the teacher, after admonishing the class for lousy Hindi skills, called out my name, asked me to come to the front of the room and read out the answers I had written. I barely had time to wonder if mine really was the worst of the lot, when she said "Her answers are so well written, the simplest words possible but she gets the point across and thats all I need".
I know there was a compliment in there somewhere but at the 14 years of age - frame of mind - walking to the front of the class - mix, I wasn't sure.
But I take that as a compliment now. The point is to get the point across.
Hope you got the point.
Uahahahahhaaaa, if only she were here to see the mess I have made.

An incomplete attempt

She looked at the clock. The hour hand hadnt moved.Why did'nt it? She had patiently waited for a year, but this last one hour was taking forever. She looked at the clock again. Did it move ? or were her eyes just playing tricks on her? She looked around her. There was almost no one else in the station, just the porters lying around. She got up, went and got herself a coffee. It did nothing to soothe her nerves. She walked up and down, sat on the bench, the beautiful sunrise went un-noticed. She paced up and down the platform more than a hundred times and yet that darned clock hand wouldnt move.
"I will be back on the 17th". There was no hi-hello, she picked up the phone at the first ring and she heard the hoop of joy and "I will be back on the 17th". It was the 17th today, all of 5.30 am. Then she heard the whistle of the train as it chugged into the station. Her eyes looked searchingly at every door, into every window, where was he?
He found her before she did him. She was knotting and unknotting the edge of her dupatta. She always did that when she got nervous around him and it always made him smile. Everytime he had heard her voice over the phone, he had imagined her doing that or throwing her long plait over her shoulder like she would when playfully teasing him. Sigh, he had missed her so much the last few months. As he looked at her now he felt it more than he had in all his moments of loneliness, than all those moments when he spent hours looking at her photo and cursing himself for having gone away from her.
She saw him, he was half-hanging out from the train. He was here. The guy with the cutest smile she had ever seen, the guy she had her first crush on, her best friend, the love of her life, her husband was here. He had his broadest smile on, head half tilted, that unruly mop of hair falling over his forehead. She broke into a smile and then into laughter, the whole year melted into nothingness. The train screeched to a halt.He got off the train and walked towards her. Time stilled around them. She was laughing, her happy laugh- oh how he had missed the sight of that.

She stretched out her hand and touched his face. She let her palm linger over his cheek, she felt the slight stubble.As her fingers curled backwards, he held her hands to his face.Her soft fingers against his skin felt like pure magic. He sensed her moving her fingers away maybe because of the place they were in, but he dint really care. He pressed her fingers against his face and close his eyes, letting the sensation sink into him. He opened his eyes and saw the expression on her face had changed. She was trying her best not to break down.
The tears were welling up within her. She dint want to make a scene. It hurt to be so close and have to be away.

An evening at Ananya's

She walked in to find Shreya crying, no, she corrected herself, Shreya had just finished crying and was trying to calm herself.Her face was streaked with tears. She wasn't sobbing, so it wasn't the hysterical sort of thing, something she remembered perhaps, there was nothing about her that she could connect to un-happiness of any sort.She went upto her and put an arm around her, the poor kid hadn't noticed there was anyone else in the room.She looked into Ananya's face to find a warm comforting look but also the famous raised eyebrow which was the unspoken question. She knew that she didn't really have to tell her, but it was Ananya. Anyone could pour their heart out to her, she would listen patiently, not once interrupt till you get everything off your chest.Then she would tell you how to handle it if that was what you wanted or she would convince you that you had done only what you could or something else, but you would always walk away feeling lighter and maybe with a smile too.
Ananya saw the hesitation on her face and knew that she would tell her what was wrong. She had come in to look for Shreya, no doubt, her presence was being missed. As it was. they were running short of hands to help and she herself was away.The hostess. The crowd was piling up and Jeevan wasn't that good at handling big numbers as Shreya.Ananya had just walked in after parking her car and noticed the huge crowd waiting outside her restaurant.A couple of minutes later, she realised the cause and thats where we comeback to the beginning of this story.
There was no point in reprimanding her for being away from her post when she obviously was in some form of discomfort.She got her to take a chair while she took the stool next to it and asked her "What happened?What upset you?" The story came out in bits and pieces and as the girl started to replay the events, she seemed to lose her control again and started sobbing. Trying to soothe her and understand her garbled words, Ananya finally made sense of what had happened.
Today was a very busy day for the eatery, people thronged and generally did not mind waiting an hour to be seated. Turned out that one of the patrons wasn't happy with the seat that he had been shown to.He was a regular too.He had been outraged that after waiting for close to 45 mins and being a regular customer too, the staff hadn't shown him enough courtesy.He had been given a table in the smoking section.That for some reason he had taken as a personal insult. He had come back and told her that he did not want the seat he was given, she not knowing why, tried to convince him. With his temper raising, he had told her that he did not want to be in the smoking section, she had the line of customers in front of her to tend to and this guy was talking to her in raised tones. So, she told him , "Very politely Ma'am" , to wait a few minutes and Jeevan would attend to him.Less than a minute later, he came back to her and started shouting at the top of his voice about courtesy, common sense . So, she told him to give her a couple of minutes and that she would find him a table in the seating area of his choice as soon as one became free.Nothing seemed to pacify the man and he kept screaming at her.Nothing abusive thankfully, but very rude.When she could not take it anymore , she had just walked away just in case she lost her temper and would say something to him that she couldn't take back.
"I'll go back now ma'am, I guess he would have gone away by now. I don't know if the hotel has lost a regular and I am sorry about this Ma'am, I should have handled it better."
,"Its not your fault, I know you well enough to say that you have handled the toughest of customers.This guy must have been something totally out of this world to have affected you.Not to worry. Now smile a little, go freshen up and come back when you feel up to it. I'll handle it till then"and she gave her a big smile.
She hoped Shreya felt better as she walked back to meet the crowd. She took a deep breath and told herself it was ok, you can handle this.Taking care of the details, the behind the scene work was her forte.She liked staying in the background and observing what people wanted.Studying people, their reactions, expressions, animated voices , all that was what she enjoyed doing.She always tried to shirk away from facing people.And now, it had to be done. As she walked back, she wondered who this guy was who had created such a huge ruckus that had actually ruffled one of her best.Must be an old geezer probably uptight about smoking.Old world grandpa with deeply set notions of how senior citizens are to be treated.She conjured up and image of a retired military guy, bald with snow white moustache which is generally treated as a symbol of pride, walking stiffly and upright like he was marching under orders.And laughed. She could imagine him towering over Shreya while she helplessly tried to convince him to wait for a couple of minutes.
15 minutes later, she was too lost in checking in on the service, finding the right seat, keeping track of which tables were getting freed-up, which were in the dessert stage , so she could add them to the next openings, at least now people were contained into the seating area and not overflowing onto the street.It would show the Banerjee's on the other side how good her business was but she had always thought it was demeaning to have to stand on the street in a queue just to eat food. And in the same tone, she tried not to let it happen at her hotel.She would have to open another branch soon , she knew it but had been postponing it. The brand was in the making,it had good wishes of quite a few regulars, people came from halfway across town too on special occasions, there was a lot of good will that she could cash in on.There was the investment for that, she had to get the right building , she had to start scouting for locations, then there was the ....No, she firmly told herself, not now, think of all that later leisurely.Not now.Almost waiting to break her chain of thought, if she hadn't done so herself, up next was a man whose face was a weird pink. She smiled at him and she made the usual statement "Good evening sir, welcome to Ananya's.Will it be just you or will someone be joining you?"
"Ah, you are a different one.Let me start from the very beginning. It will be just me.I want to be seated in the non-smoking section." Pause."Is that clear enough or do I have to repeat myself?"AHA ! so, this was he. She stood silent for a second before replying to him. She was about to open her mouth when Shreya opened the door to come in, one look at the guy and she stepped right back out in that very instant.She laughed.She couldnt help herself, the poor girl had to choose that exact moment to come back, didn't she.
"Something you find amusing?"
She looked back at him, the ring of laughter still in her tone, and said,"Yes, you seemed to have scared Shreya, the hostess for the evening. I had no idea that someone who seems as congenial as you do would have that effect on people. As for your seating request, I am flattered that you like our place enough to have come back after that mini-show you had put on.

More reports ?

She walked away as fast as she could. She could still feel his stare.It made her want to jump right out that window, anything so she would never have to face him again. As she reached her desk, she was fuming,what in the name of the heavens did he think he was! Muttering to herself, she sat down to re-work her last 5 hours effort. That would mean another late night at office, more answering to her parents who would start off with the usual, "Being a girl, working so late, cant u tell your manager to let you go before 6". She could never give a straight answer. Damn the equality business, wouldn't it be great if you could cash in on being a girl. And what's the point being a girl if you cant make any profit out of it!!
Even as she thought it, she knew that, she wouldn't really try to back out of work using that as a trump card. She actually liked what she was doing, she always had fun,she had a great group of friends, and all seemed to be going good.
In fact, all was going good until that stupid manager came out of the blue, just to make life miserable for her. Why couldn't he have remained onsite? A weekly status report and he would keep out of her hair, and he didn't seem half as bad on the phone as he did now."Monster" the word escaped her lips before she realised.
And he materialized at that very instant.
And wouldn't he, its like he knew exactly where to be at the exact wrong time when she slipped. like today, when one wrong entry in that darned report needed for all the others to be re-worked. She didn't really have time for all that flashback, he was standing right in front of her, hand casually placed over the cubicle wall with a bemused smile.
He did have a nice smile,she grudgingly gave him that and then he opened his mouth to speak.And that was it, all thoughts of his stupid smile being cute went out the window.
"I am sorry sir, I was talking to myself" she cut him off. His smile became wider and she felt like kicking herself, why did you have to go and apologize for something that he probably didn't even connect to himself." Was there something else to be added sir? I have just started on the rework".He said something and she wasn't sure what it was, he was probably talking to himself. Well, why doesn't he go to his oversized desk and talk to himself, why bother me. But since she couldn't say that to him, she just put on her prettiest fake smile and hoped he would not hear her teeth gnashing behind.
"Do you want me to help you out with that? I know you spent a lot of time on it, its pretty unfortunate that you have to do it again"
Her mouth literally fell open, he! His Holy Majesty was offering to help !Did she hear him right? Was he mocking her and telling her that he doesn't believe she can get it right again? No, don't jump to weird meaningless conclusions, he's just offering to help. Maybe he realised he was harsher with her earlier that required.
"From next time on though, make sure you have the numbers right, it will save us the double effort when you could be doing something else"
How could you even think that he would help you with no sarcastic reprimands! Just a second back, she was almost going to say "Yes", she could go home early she had thought eagerly. Now, there was no way,stupid over-egoistic show-off, I don't need any of your help.
"No sir, its ok, thank you, I'll manage it myself. I'll mail it to you before I leave".
Another of those maddening all-knowing mocking smile and he was gone."Good riddance" and she immediately bit her lip, in case he was still hanging around. Thankfully, he wasn't.
She started on the task. Almost every entry she made, she had a curse ready for him.
Why did he have to come back here?
Why was I the only one who has to report to him?
Why couldn't it have been Ananya(she had gone home 2 hours ago!) or Saahil(he was around somewhere doing God knows what)?
Why me!!
Why couldn't I have confirmed the stupid number with him before having started off?
Who would have thought that he had a 'latest' report! He doesn't expect me to hallucinate it does he?He probably would.2 cups of coffee, a visit from the security guard checking and 4 phone calls from home later she was finally done.
Now to mail it to him and be off with it.He was probably in bed snoring away to glory. The choicest of abuses came to her, but she stopped herself, it was her mistake after all,and she was the only one who could do those reports and he did offer to help, she had been too egoistic to accept.
She stretched to relax her body, she had been in the cooped position for too long. She couldn't feel her legs. She rubbed her eyes wearily, the dark circles from today would take a week to go away. Another bout of curses for him came up.
"How are u planning to go home?"
"What the ... You scared me sir"? Scared would be a gross understatement, he had scared the living daylights out of her. She almost nearly fell off her chair,she told herself, not that she would,but she felt she could have.
"I am sorry about that, I got your mail, I thought you might be ready to leave now, do you have a ride back home?"and that smile of his again,Stop staring at him and answer to what he's asking.
"I .. uh ... no.. I don't have a ride. I mean, I ... uh .. I will book a cab now sir".
Stop stammering stop stammering stop stammering.
"I can drop you if you want"
hmm, he actually stayed back. To drop me? hmmm.
"Well, I stay in XYZ, its probably out of the way for you sir, I'll book a cab"
"Not really, I don't mind at all, in fact, I would appreciate the company."
No you wouldn't, not my company. She had heard that he was an absolute terror to people even onsite. No one could manage one proper conversation with him. People would go out of their way to avoid him.I would definitely not enjoy your company.and he was walking away, he turned over to say "Give me 5 minutes, I have to finish up something"
Oh, so, he was working.
She went to freshen up and one look at the mirror, she looked like she had been toiling in the hot sun without respite for a few weeks, how in the name of the heavens did he manage to look like he had just gotten up after 10 hours of sleep, all fresh and grinning from ear to ear like a donkey. Damn him.
She washed her face, set her hair, sort of satisfied with the end result, she walked out.A sudden thought popped into her head, and why did you have to make sure you weren't looking too bad.Before she could answer her own question, she saw him.
He was good looking in a good sort of way. She had never really noticed him like she would a guy before, he was always Akash, Akash the monster. He was just the boss, not a guy. He wasn't that bad looking at all, she thought as she tried to read in his features without seeming obvious.He was on the phone. She remembered, he stayed with his parents in ABC, that was way out of the way from XYZ. He was probably telling them, he'd be late.
When she came close enough to hear what he was saying, she realised he was on the phone with the client, at 2 in the night for heaven's sake. Doesn't he have a life of his own? Then she also realised, he was one of those untiring, unrelentingly hardworking people for whom work was life. She knew that all the people who were wary of his company or the people who were scared of him,anyone for that matter, would, without blinking say that he was probably the only reason the whole team was on this project. He was good at what he did, all respected him , just that no one saw him get pally with anyone. He was always barking orders. And all seemed to be on the receiving end of it, that definitely doesn't earn friends now does it.
With a start, she wondered, if he felt lonely around all the people he was surrounded by. suddenly, she was almost pitying him, he always went alone everywhere, he didn't really have a fixed lunch group, he probably missed lunch more often that he had it. But he never seemed a loner, he was always something or the other to all.It was like she was seeing him in a new light, he wasn't really a monster, now, was he. He's just doing his job, maybe a tad more roughly than one would want him to.
He was winding up the conversation, and did a "Shall we leave?"gesture. She nodded and they went towards the parking lot.

I am me

It’s been over 2 years now. The same office. The same route to work everyday. The same people. The same faces. The same meaningless conversations. The same canteen. The very same dreaded canteen food. The same old work under the guise of new.
She never really liked what she was doing. So, she bore whatever work fell into her plate and did it with the required amount of involvement and a pinch more than that of indifference. She had long since come to understand that it was just means to an end. She did not look forward to feeling elated or like shouting “Eureka!! “ every time she made some amazing breakthrough. She was good at it, didn’t mean she had to like it. And it paid more than she could earn elsewhere, if she even knew what work she could do elsewhere. Seemed like years of training and repeated-constant exposure to her environs had turned her into what she sometimes despised in others – a modern day slave who harbored illusions of being different, being something more than all the other sheep, who was pure brain and had great potential just waiting to be recognized. And of course, one given 8*8 sq feet area, walling the slave in as much as they believed they used it to wall out the others.
That is the problem with knowing so much theory, being able to think out something, rationalize it, think of your situation as if you were seeing yourself through the third person’s eyes. You just lose track of what you want to do, what you are, what you can be, what you truly like and what defines you. You become another wallflower. And she was at the brink of falling over that line.
She looked at each place and identified it with the people that made it as it is. It gave her more pleasure than most other things to be surrounded by people who were waiting to be read and understood without them knowing it.
There were people she used to like to work with, people she liked talking with, people she would meet up over weekends for a cup of coffee and fun. But it all seemed so long ago. Sometimes, she felt like the survivor of some war, one who could only search for people who were part of her surroundings once but are no more. She looked around and felt like strangers had occupied the place that belonged to her friends. Like the table they always sat at in the canteen, many a time, was occupied by people she had never seen before. And she always felt that twinge of regret of have not gone away herself.
Moving to a new place seems to be less taxing on emotions than to live on in the same place with space and memories to fill in the gaps.
She moved forward suddenly as the bus stopped with a jerk. She had reached her slave factory.
As she got off the bus, she smiled wistfully at the thoughts that had filled her head through the journey and she shook her head. Another day, another beginning. There’s always hope, you just need to want something badly enough.
She saw a friend waving to her and moved towards her with a big smile and said hi. And she heard in return.
“Hi Stuti”.
That is me. Remember it. I am not Employee Number 213456. I am Stuti. I am my own person. I have hopes, desires, wishes and a life to live all by my own rules. Remember that and today too will pass by without you wondering why you feel like a part of you dies everyday just by being here.

The Silver Lining

It was a day like any other. The habit of having coffee at 11 now ingrained deeply into her, she set off with some of the other wilful slaves of routine. There were the usual jokes, the camaraderie, the rounds of laughter, discussions that were meaningless but being spoken of as if they would shake the earth's very foundations. She almost smiled at the futility of it all.

Sometimes, she wondered at herself. She was very capable of being in the midst of a throng and feeling very alone. It wasn't visible to the others, she would be saying the right things and responding at the required pauses but she felt like she was looking at the life of another, through another's eyes while being aware that there were no two people, it was just her.

She would be talking and simultaneously processing how the people around her would perceive the sentence, who would respond and in which way. And more often than not, her brain would foretell what would be said next and for that it would have prepared a response too.

These were two clearly seperate processes, both intimately aware of the other. The talking-process sometimes wondered what this is, if it is normal to have the voice in your head pondering about the clouds in the sky when you are talking of that model walking down the ramp on tv.
She was walking towards the coffee dispensing machine in the cafeteria quite lost in her own thoughts when she saw him. The first thought that ran through her mind was "Now, that's what good looking is". She was gawking at him and felt absolutely no need to feel ashamed about it or avert her eyes in case any one was watching her.
Just looking at him refreshed her, it was the weirdest of emotions, that voice inside her was telling her , trying to reason out what it was that she was doing, but the very same voice also grudgingly agreed that she was right. There he was minding his own business, unaware of her, just waiting for his cup of coffee and she felt like she had reached some special point, that something had changed all in that one second.
He turned around and left , oblivious to her and she moved along with her crowd and got her own cup but she didn't dare look for him.She didn't scan the cafeteria for that cute guy dressed all decently to look like he was one of that crowd, but he wasn't . She just knew.
Nobody realised that she wasn't in the conversation, but she really didn't care, the turmoil she was in mentally right now astounded her.
She had seen so many guys before, probably better looking than him, she had been in love too but this emotion that she was feeling based on one look was new to her. It made her feel wondrous, almost giddy with that feeling filling her up.
She leaned back on her chair and savored the moment. It was her ray of hope, it was that silver lining, she was still alive. She had feelings within her, they just needed that catalyst to bring it out.
She stood up with a smile and turned around to walk towards the door. He got up at the very same moment and as he did, he looked up at her. At that moment, not for the last 15 mins when she was agonising, questioning, understanding, accepting and finally enjoying that feeling that was coursing through her, he chose this minute to see her.
A thought popped into her head, what would he think if he knew I was smiling because of him.
He was still looking at her, time seemed to slow down to see exactly what effect this guy was having on Stuti.
She was surprised at the calm she felt, if she ever noticed some guy 'checking her out', she would immediately escape from the situation, either with a scowl on the face or swearing under her breath. Not now, now, she wanted him to see her, she wanted to know if she would affect him the same way.
As she passed by him, she knew that she wouldn't even have to look back.
He had felt it too.

gimme more

I come home last night tired from another monotonous day and surprise myself by whipping up rice, rasam and a curry in less than 40 mins. And while I was washing up to set the table for dinner, Vc goes 'You didn't make chapathis? I thought I saw the belan in your hands.'
Grrrrrrrrrrrr .
P.S. Luckily I didn't have it then, otherwise it would have caused a nice bump on his head.

Aren't the rains always to bring good times?

My maid didn't turn up for work yesterday without informing me in advance and I didn't give it much thought, even though I know she has never done that before.
She came in today and spoke half in tears.
She told me that her sister had a baby on Sunday night. That the baby seemed ok in the beginning but developed some sort of respiratory issues and the doctors said "We can't fix this, take the baby to another hospital".
And these people went out in the rain with a new born babe to another hospital where they said "We don't have a bed, we can't take the baby in"
The rain caused a fever and the baby died.
Where is the sense in this? How pathetic can a medical organisation get that they turn out a babe saying there's no space! How much space do they need after all, the size of half a hand ??
Do they not realise that a life that was nurtured for 9 months, something that was awaited eagerly all lost because they went to a hospital that couldn't fix something and then were forced to go to another heartless place.
What is the world coming to if life is not the most important thing there is ??

Tired

Have you ever felt tired after having done absolutely nothing?
I have fallen into that evil trip, for since the last 2 weeks, I have had absolutely no work to do but I reach home dead tired.
It's mental boredom that is translating into physical tiredness.
Its like my brain is decaying out for I am forced to stay at work for a min. X amount of hours whether or not I have any work.
Who came up with that rule anyways? And what does it achieve? Chaining a person to his/her desk for 9.5 hours when they don't have any work. What good can you possibly foresee coming from that !!
Ask me, and I'll say NOTHING!

Vous parlez Francais?

Remember that feeling on the last day of exams when you would study enough to get through and plan more for the celebration of having survived another year and another bout of never-ending exams.
Remember knowing that tomorrow you will be free, you wont have to study with droopy eyes tonight, you are free of that tension.
Remember knowing that you will be awake at 4am or 5am tomorrow even if the alarm doesnt ring because you have spent the last 2 weeks getting up at that time to cram in the last 2 chapters just before leaving for the exam hall.
Remember feeling relieved that its all over and looking forward to having some fun over the holidays but also feeling sort of wistful since you know you wont be able to catch up with your friends everyday now, you can't play in the recess time, you can't share food from 10 boxes and so many other small things that we take for granted.

I have this weird feeling today, the type you get when you know something is over, something that has gotten to be a routine part of your life that is now going to change.
I dont have to get up before 6am tomorrow. I wont be able to drive down empty streets and watch the sunrise over SankeyTank. I wont be seeing the people in my French class whom I have been seeing everyday from 6.45am to 8.15am. EVERYDAY.I wont have to try thinking in a different language.I wont be laughing first thing in the morning when I hear everyone trying tongue twisting french.I wont be able to learn something and find it fun at the same time(thats coz of the teacher Ms.V, she's plain amazing!)
I think I will miss it. The people. The place. The language.
But worst of all I dont like that my course has ended, since it changes my routine.One that I liked.

Until the next time I find something that I liked so much, I am going to 'bali-fy' anyone who crosses my path
Vous parlez francais?

Its always the little things .. Always

Do you think God conspired with men to make life difficult for women ? You'd think , there's got to be a reason !!!!

No, I am not talking about the general safety on the roads, age old customs and rituals where women have to be content being the lesser beings, not even harassment at workplaces or anywhere outside home(or sometimes even at home). Those are the big grievances. I am talking of the smaller daily ones.
A few examples might help you in understanding why I am cribbing.

I was planning to indulge in myself with a massage at the parlor, when the lady says "If you are planning something, you should let us know, we cant do it in all conditions"

If you didn't get the meaning, don't worry, I was in your shoes a couple of months ago. It means if you are carrying(for the really duh ! people, it means, if you are pregnant), you wont get a back massage.

Duh ! Thanks for YOUR precautions, but I just want a massage and I have a brain !!

Another one was about a couple of month ago, we were at Vc's boss's(Mr. P) place for dinner along with a dozen other colleagues and their families.
The start itself stunned me. There were a few couple already in the sitting room, around 6 couples (us included) walked in together (by coincidence) . All the ladies (ALL) just got up from the sofas, joined the other ladies who arrived and moved into the children's room. Just like a herd.
And yours truly was caught in no-man's land .I didn't know whether to stay with menfolk or retreat behind the purdahs like women of 10 centuries ago(if then)
The consternation on Mr. P's face showed only when I turned around and asked him "Why did the women leave?" (Oh come on, how am I to know that you are not supposed to ask questions like that!!! I know I know, I should think before I talk, its not like I am in the college canteen... :D)
He gracefully handled the latest addition to the group saying "I don't know, you can sit here. That should bring them out. " I smiled my fakest smile and turned to find a place where Vc and I could sit together, when Mrs P came with the drinks tray.
Now, me thinks, maybe that's the reason the ladies left, they know its "Drinks time" and dint want to be around , but hey, if you know your hubby drinks, whats the big deal in being around , anyways.

Take a look around carefully when you are on the road, you will always see people veering clear of cars with women drivers.
But of course, God forbid, if there’s one out there who manages to overtake a guy, he will use all his prowess to to overtake her again, and then he will stick to her like fevicol irritating her like there is no tomorrow.


The house owner had come visiting once, and he was shocked when Vc went in to get refreshments, the look saying in all. ‘YOU’ are sitting here and THE husband has to do the lowly kitchen work. It was hilarious. I think I liked seeing that look on his face, but I had to put him out of his misery, I went in and sent Vc back, but by the time I returned with the tray of loaded goodies, he had escaped.

And of course, there are those old fashioned people, who get scandalized if I sit on the sofa where they are – a 3 seater mind you. All grandpas, a girl’s place is 10 paces away.
Then, there was this lady who’s husband had gone out when my dad and me had gone over to give the guy something and , you wont believe it, she stood behind the kitchen door and spoke to my dad. I was literally dumbstruck. I mean, in this day and age, she still followed the “Don’t talk to a ‘Paraya Man’ , stay indoors’ , where’s the removal of the purdah system!!

Then, there’s a family friend of ours, where, the ladies have to sit on the floor next to the sofa if the men are around, even if the sofa is empty. Beat that.

And of course , the fun stuff of being a woman.
You have to struggle no end to wear six yards of misery around you, with 2 dozen pins stuck in to keep you safe, a constant worry of what’s slipping from where always on your mind and of course, you cant jump around or sit cross legged or do anything normal !!!
The end result is good, I grant you that, but I just need to meet that human who invented the saree, just once.

Have you ever seen a girl with real hairy legs wearing a miniskirt ?? Its almost like impossible ???
Why then do we have to suffer gorilla-style hairy-legged guys in shorts !!! why , why why !!
Why do only women have ‘hair’ problems, ever thought of how painful it is to remove one strand of hair from the root! Try that all over your hands and legs and of course the eyebrows! Scary huh?

I’ll probably add the rest later, but for now, I rest.

Its a matter of time

I came home on Wednesday(day before yesterday) at noon and it was so hot and stifling that a fan working at max speed was to be the only solution.Having switched it on, I was just about to sit and I hear this loud thud, and I see that this new clock - a pretty one with a wooden frame - that Vc got and kept gloating over had fallen down from its resting perch, face down onto the floor.
I was literally scared to turn it over and see that the cracks in the glass face.Surprisingly, there was not a scratch!!
Yesterday, my sister and I went out and I put my mobile phone into her handbag, she left with it and now my only phone connection to the world is my BSNL landline.
Today morning, I got up without hearing "Minchagi neenu ... "(my alarm tone on my mobile), checked the clock on the wall and it was showing 2am.
The clock stopped working, I don't have my mobile, I never use a handwatch unless I have to (which means, I spend 10 mins searching for it every time I am required to wear one).
I didn't know what the time was.So, I checked it on Vc's mobile.I come back home from class and Vc's gone to work, and I don't know what time it is.
P.S. I am using my laptop now as a clock :)

Say a little prayer for me.

Today was an important day for someone very close to me. A test of sorts.Something that the person has worked hard for. I pray for you that you pass it and get what you want and worked for.
Good luck D!
P.S. anyone who reads this, please send up a prayer from your end too.Maybe it'll reach the ears of the right One. :)

et tu?

Ever get that feeling "Why am I here again?" I am currently buried under the weight of that emotion.

Pain .. pane... payne... paen ..

Have you ever really given thought to the concept of pain? Not why it is caused or how, but the feeling of pain. I have, in some detail quite recently and I realised a couple of things:-
-> You always live through it. No matter how bad it is, even if you faint since your body cant take it, you always have to get up and pick up the pieces.
-> The memory of pain puts fear into you and also a hope that since you have already borne it, if it ever happens again, you can face it better.That doesnt happen.A memory turns out to be a pale recollection of the actual pain. Always.
-> You never get used to it.It is always there at the back of your mind waiting for you to get out of your safe cocoon, even a little slip.
-> Cribbing does no good, it doesn't lessen the pain, sharing doesn't reduce it for you(nor does it help the poor soul you offloaded on).It is your part of suffering, you have to carry it not matter how many helpful/sympathetic shoulders you find along the way.
-> It teaches you some lessons to remember.It steels you against making the same mistakes again.It fills you with a fear that it dares you to conquer.And it always is that one fear that you overcome makes it easier to overcome others.It shows you a glimpse of life outside your safe haven, life isn't a bed of roses, never was- you appreciate what normalcy more.
Whew, that was a morbid, morose what not piece of writing.
what brought about that was having Hydrogen Peroxide(I think) put on your 10 inch long skin wound and seeing froth build up on that while you feel like the thing is going to burn its way right into you!
This is my 3rd dressing for the wound, the first one on the night of the great fall, and I had thought betadene(I think) burns like mad.Dressing 2 saw the nurse pull out the first dressing that the new skin was trying to grow over and hence reopening the wound(and to think doctors would know this in advance!!!)Dressing 3 with the peroxide stuff that hurt so bad I had tears streaming down my face.Dressing 4 was the least painful of all. And now finally I can stop using a bandana/scarf/shawl/long sleeved outfits/dupattas to cover my war wounds, it still freaks out some people when they see my hand reaching for the 2nd floor button in the lift , they look at my face with a weird look of half pity and half fright, takes me a second to understand why and by then, I am out the lift!
It'll be as good as old in 2 months, until then, all sport under hold :)

To fly . . or not to fly...

Sunday was supposed to be the hottest day in the last 35 years in Bangalore.I spent the whole day in an open ground frying/baking/boiling and mostly just waiting for my turn at paragliding.
We reached at 10.30am, waited till 6.30 pm when the light was going down.And then realised that we wont be able to do it. And my whole Sunday was wasted.
Got me all grr and I gave a teeny-tiny piece of my mind to one of the organisers , about organising for all the participants and caring for our time.
And I wish I had left it at that.
He came back a few minutes later and said, we can accomodate just one person now, inspite of the fact that there were 4 of us who had paid up and equally wanted to experience the thrill of flying with the birds above.
The process looks simple but is rather complicated. You get into this set of straps which is attached to a 'wing' (the parachute-type thing) and there is another guy - the pilot behind you also strapped in.There is a rope hooked into the strap and the other end goes a km away to a vehicle that winds in the rope.Both the people run for 2-20 steps, the parachute balloons up with the wind and suddenly you are off into the skies, climbing steadily. .After you reach upto 100ft, the rope is removed and then you, you fly with the birds, making lazy turns steering wherever you want
Here are some of the pics.
I got all strapped in, ran a bit and just when I thought I was taking off, I fell, face down, the guy behind on top of me. The vehicle that was pulling the rope did not stop.I was doing a "SuperMan" along the ground for 4-5 seconds. There was a calmness in my mind that I find hard to believe now.It was like being in a void, I could hear nothing, feel very little.I was conscious and awake to what was happening but it did not register.I did not feel pain, I knew my skin was being scraped off, I wondered why I pushed for taking the last ride, I was confident that nothing would be really wrong, I felt bad for my family who were watching this.And then I stopped moving.
Someone tried to pull me up but couldnt since the whole contraption had collapsed on me.I finally got to my feet and was trying to convince all that I am ok.My right hand was a bright red with few remnants of skin hanging on.My knee was ok, luckily no complications there.I was a little dazed, yes, but totally aware.
And luckily that was it.My brother's face was a dark cloud.He could not believe it.My sis was trying to apply some salve to it.Vc's face was unreadable.And I found a reason to smile. This was to be my birthday gift - flying in the air.
So much for wings of wax.
Thats the bad stuff.My birthday of course was wonderful, couple of cakes, couple of temples and I got to spend time with the most important people in my life and I turn another year older, wiser and hey , I have the scars to prove it now !

RULES OF WORK - from a forward, had to put it up !!

1. Never give me work in the morning. Always wait until 4:00 and then bring it to me. The challenge of a deadline is refreshing.
2. If it's really a rush job, run in and interrupt me every 10 minutes to inquire how it's going. That helps. Or even better, hover behind me, advising me at every keystroke.
3. Always leave without telling anyone where you're going. It gives me a chance to be creative when someone asks where you are.
4.. If my arms are full of papers, boxes, books, or supplies, don't open the door for me. I need to learn how to function as a paraplegic and opening doors with no arms is good training in case I should ever be injured and lose all use of my limbs.
5. If you give me more than one job to do, don't tell me which is priority. I am psychic.
6. Do your best to keep me late. I adore this office and really have nowhere to go or anything to do. I have no life beyond work.
7. If a job I do pleases you, keep it a secret. If that gets out, it could mean a promotion.
8. If you don't like my work, tell everyone. I like my name to be popular in conversations. I was born to be whipped.
9. If you have special instructions for a job, don't write them down. In fact, save them until the job is almost done. No use confusing me with useful information.
10. Never introduce me to the people you're with. I have no right to know anything. In the corporate food chain, I am plankton. When you refer to them later, my shrewd deductions will identify them.
11. Be nice to me only when the job I'm doing for you could really change your life and send you straight to managers' hell.
12. Tell me all your little problems. No one else has any and it's nice to know someone is less fortunate. I especially like the story about having to pay so much tax on the bonus check you received for being such a good manager.
13. Wait until my yearly review and THEN tell me what my goals SHOULD have been. Give me a mediocre performance rating with a cost of living increase.. I'm not here for the money anyway.
Tell me you did not nod your head for at least one of those of them !! This totally made my day , starting my day early in the morning laughing out loud totally works for me :)

Taking a day off ?

I applied for a leave of 3 days in April to attend an out-of-town wedding.

In response we(the whole team) just got this mail from authority one level higher up who got it from one more level higher up.

Approval can be done only for 5 leaves max per month for offshore team.Depending on how many leaves have been taken by an associate in the project till date, leave approval will be done.

This is for my team which has 9 members. Do the math. In case you didn't, it says one person can take 6-7 leaves per year at max.
Oh, and the 2nd statement was put into effect purely because of yours truly, what with me having taken off most of a month already, how dare she think she can ask for leave again.

What can I say, not much since I am trying very hard to stop laughing. ;)

The art of story telling

When was the last time you heard someone transport you to another place with mere words, I am not talking of a visual like a movie where a character says something, nor am I talking of a book which has similar powers, I am talking of listening to a person standing in front of you narrating to you a story. We listen to anecdotes from friends all the time, "You know what happened today, I was at this place where. .... " and you can imagine the expression on your friends face or imagine the place he is talking about. But what of a story that is just that , a story, like the one your grandma used to tell you when putting you to sleep on her lap way back when you were still in pigtails. I remember my mom and grandmom do that, cousins all around them, on the terrace on summer nights listening with rapt attention to some sort of a Jataka tale or occasionally a true story with a dash of humour added or even some made up tale of fruits and vegetables(don't ask)
The words help you conjure up images in your head driving your imagination crazy. My aunt could put images into my head of a "Potlakai antha Police Officer in a Jampandu antha Jail" - which roughly translated would mean a "Gourd sized Police Officer in a Guava sized jail" (don't ask again). It's an art, modulating your voice to make a ghost-sound or a high-pitched scream, knowing when to put in that knowing smile or wink, the body language that showed you how a brave prince jumped in front of a sword to defend the princess, and most importantly, letting the narration be controlled by the audience's response.
Those were the days, those were the times, I wonder if story telling is a dying art. It is probably alive still somewhere, maybe everywhere, almost every mother shows her children the moon and tells them tall (but believable) tales about it just to get them to eat dinner.I hope it never goes out of style. I know there is more power in it than I could imagine.

We went to an IFA associated-Motley Production of "Ismat Aapa Ke Naam" yesterday at the Chowdiah Memorial Hall. Three short stories written by Ismat Chugtai were narrated by Naseeruddin Shah, Rathna Pathak-Shah and Heeba Shah. The stories that were chosen were almost tragic, they made us cringe in places, smile in some, wonder in amazement about how the human mind works, worry about ourselves as a society that reacts stupidly(for want of a better word) for some scenarios, how hard we try to fit into a place and then try harder to convince ourselves that we are better than the rest.
Heeba's narration was nice especially her rendering of a 'curse-mouthing' begum, but it didn't have something that I was looking for.
RPS's narration was a treat to watch, I could literally see Kale Miyan saying "Ghungat uthao" And I must confess, I half hoped she would find a way to put in "That's soo middle class" somewhere ;) (for the uninitiated, that's something she keeps saying in Sarabhai vs Sarabhai) . She did get some of the biggest laughs.
The performance of NS took the cake, his voice, the energy, the expressions, the pauses at the right places, transforming himself by means of body language to a man, a woman, an old man with a paan filled mouth, a village busybody. He had a presence on stage, it seemed more interactive.
As much as I rack my brain(and I am half ashamed to say this) I can't think of any of his onscreen performances other than Wednesday and Masoom.
As I saw the progression of the stories and the different people rendering it alive, I realised, a story teller needs to be an actor too, he needs to make you feel it.
And I must mention, the simple props made a huge difference with each setting, the music score in the background and the lights were amazing, they added a lot to the whole thing.
The show got a standing ovation.
I would recommend it for a dekko, but I wasn't completely satisfied. It was a different experience, an appreciable one, but maybe I have been exposed to movies for too long to give this a 10 on 10.
At least, this is my first step backwards to when I was in my pigtails, anyone going to tell me a story, I am all ears :)