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 :)

And he smiled !

It was that part of a moment when one moves out of the sleep zone and right before when one is awake. Like the dawn of the waking day. She was there. As she waited for the fuzziness to clear out from her mind, she knew something was different about today.She couldn't put her finger on what that was, but there it was, that feeling. She turned around to snuggle into her pillow, but she couldn't move. Something held her in place. She awoke with a start then.
Her eyes found comfort in the fact that it was still dark around her, there was a lamp in the room, the only source of light. Before she could take solace in the fact that it wasn't time yet for her to get up and leave for work, she realised that she didn't have a lamp in her bedroom.And then, she looked at herself and realised why she couldn't move, her hands and legs were bound. She let out a gasp involuntarily and when she heard herself, it was a muffled sound that seemed to shatter the silence around her. And that scared her. It was like she had disturbed the pattern. There was shelter in the silence, a peace to it, she had disturbed it. Maybe if she just huddled back silently, closed her eyes and wished this gone away, she would wake up and put this nightmare behind her.
She closed her eyes and wished with all her might to get back to reality. And she gave it a one minute's pause as a good measure.And slowly, hesitantly , she opened her eyes to her reality.
She screamed. Tranquility be damned, peace be damned, silence be damned. She screamed herself hoarse, until she no longer had a voice. Then the door opened. It surprised her, because she hadn't known there was a door.There was a little bit of fear seeping back until she heard a voice, a gruff voice say something she couldn't understand. But she did shut up then and the voice disappeared with fading footsteps that she hadn't heard approaching earlier.
She wouldn't give into hysteria or to tears. She steeled herself to accepting this present situation. She tried recalling what she last remembered as normal.Going to work in the morning was the last coherent thought she could recall. She had pulled over for coffee or had she? It was too much of a fuzzy memory.
She twisted her arms, her hands were bound tight and the rope didn't budge. There wasn't even wriggling area. She knew what the knot was, she had learnt it from her father. She couldn't remember the name but she knew exactly how it was made.She mentally kicked herself for not learning how to undo it. She looked around the room, looking for something that would let her loose.She was on a bed. The lamp in the corner. She hopped over to the lamp feeling like a kangaroo. It was an old kerosene lamp. There was glass and the flame to use. She pushed the lamp, watched the glass break with a tinkle and the kerosene make a wet patch on the floor.She looked at the door, wondering if the sound had been loud enough for the owner of the gruff voice to walk in again, but he didn't come back. She picked up one of the bigger pieces and tried to rub them against the rope holding her wrists together.She cut herself a couple of times and finally succeeded in wearing the rope down enough to give some wriggling space. A triumphant feeling had start to spread over her, but she ground her teeth and kept at it not wanting to break the spell.
The door opened. More of the gruff voice, definitely yelling now. He went out again, returned in a minute with a bucket of water and threw it over the former lamp and it's mess. She shrank back wondering what would happen to her, furiously trying still to cut open the ropes which probably in hindsight she would think wasn't as smart as trying to have hidden that piece of glass somewhere.
Satisfied that the potential fire was put out, he walked over to her, took the glass piece from her and retied her with another rope that managed to appear out of nowhere. Then, he walked out.
She wasn't sure how many hours had passed since that first waking moment of hers. She had kept trying to find some way to get out of there.She had racked her brains as to why she would be here, true she was rich, but rich enough to get kidnapped? She wondered if someone was paying her ransom at this moment. She wondered if her boss missed her at work and tried contacting her.She wondered if it was evening already and the friends she was supposed to meet up for coffee had missed her.
And then she laughed to herself at the futility of it all. How did all that matter? All that did matter now is that she was at the mercy of her 'kidnappers'. Having resigned herself to that fact she waited for that man to show up again, so she could at least understand what was happening. They had to give her food at least.
Waiting in the silence, in the darkness tore a part of her. For some reason, she could not fathom , all her personal devils reared their head to torment her at this moment. It spurred her into action.She twisted her hands again straining her neck to look for something that she might have missed earlier. She heard the footsteps come close this time. As the door creaked on its hinges, she sat back apprehensively. It was food. He put the plate on the floor and had walked away when she realised he wasn't going to talk to her and maybe that he didn't even realise that she couldn't eat with her hands bound. She just couldn't believe it. She had just about started bemoaning her fate when another guy came in and untied her hands, gestured that she should take off the gag and eat.
She couldn't try anything dumb, especially not with the mammoth sized creature standing with his hands crossed in front of her. She ate, almost with gratitude, when she realised how hungry she was.
3 days later, which she deduced by counting the number of meals she had, she didn't know where she was, why she was there and a couple of escape attempts later she was still where she had started off. They wouldn't talk to her, they wouldn't bother her.
Today, she had another plan. When she heard the doorsteps, she stood behind the door, yesterday's plate in hand. As the door swung open, she swung with all her might right across the face.The man was stunned, she jumped over him and hopped till the edge of the corridor where she could see a window. It was daytime, sunlight was filtering in. There was hope. She fell face forward and was waiting for her face to break, waiting for that crunching sound, when someone held her and broke the fall. He turned her around, so she was on her back. The same man, who had thwarted her thrice already, but had never reacted was now red in the face notwithstanding the bruise that was forming. He muttered something that was unintelligible. She waited for him to fume and she almost readied herself for a blow. She had tried so hard last three days, using all that she could find. All she had thought of was escape, the insanity of the whole situation was driving her insane.Now, it looked like she was stuck in this hell. Something inside her was breaking, the constriction in her throat seemed to be tightening, tears were welling up in her eyes. Her eyes had been downcast, she looked at his face to see if she could interpret the signs of her future in that mask.
And he smiled!
As he did, she realised that the smile actually lauded her spirit. It looked like a father consoling and doting simultaneously a daughter who had tried something and not succeeded. He seemed human in that light.
The tears disappeared. She knew that she would get out of here. The smile gave her the strength.She would not stop trying.

How much are you worth, really?

I feel free. I feel relieved.
Remember the feeling when we believed that our test results in 5th std were the most important thing in our lives, that there was no tomorrow after that.
Remember when that was followed by 10th std results.
And that by +2 results.
And that by Engg. results.
And that by placements.
And that by appraisals at the end of every year.

I am beginning to realise that we seem to spend life measuring ourselves against periodical tests which in the big scheme of things mean zilch.
Oh, I know, they do matter at some level.
My 10th results helped me get into a decent college for +2, where my not so good results put me into engineering where my not so bad results helped me get into a software company, where my yearly appraisals have thus far given me a 50% increment in salary from the time I joined, lots of anger, frustration, disappointment in so called managers, disregard for the whole appraisal system, some tears and finally today, freedom.
I seem to have put myself in a position where I worry about what my appraisal is going to be. I seem to get worried when I cannot speak my mind for fear that a manager might use it against me.It almost makes me feel I care about their opinion(and from that tone, I do hope one realises that I don't)
And, I don't take it lightly that I am so affected.To realise why it affects me so, you probably need a little insight to my past appraisals.
Year 1 :
I got a 3+/5 along with 7 other good friends in the same team (and in the manager's words) because "It won't be nice if we gave one more than the other since you all are such good friends."
Oh and I wasn't thinking of me getting a better rating.One of the guys had slogged so much that he should have gotten a 4 at least and he didn't.
I guess the disillusionment started then.
Year 2's first half:
I got a 3+ again, surprisingly. The manager developed a strong dislike for me since I wanted to look for other projects, preferably onsite, because I was to be released from the team.Notwithstanding the fact that I worked 3 weeks for that team after my official release date.
Year 2's second half:
I had heard at the starting of this period, that, in this team, the manager decides who gets what rating and tells his deputy who then has to assign weightage to the person's achievements so they somehow fall into what was predecided.
Inspite of that scare, Year 2's second half saw me get a 4 , my highest thus far, but I ended up at 3 for the year end average.
Year 3's first half : Now this takes the cake.
While year 2 gave me a problem because I wanted to go onsite, year 3 gave me a problem because I wanted to come back.I was onsite for a period of 6, max 8months and that was the deal. After 2 months of torture or continuous haggling and pleading, I came back home after 10.5 months and worked in the offshore branch of the same team.
At the end of which I got a 2.Now I can get a 2 even if I play hooky from office every single day.
The discussion with the manager was enlightening : "Anybody can work. What is more important is that you did not stay even though we asked you to"
And there I was, thinking that you are appraised on the quality of work you do.
And of course, that was a clear cut case of "You didn't toe my line, I can sc**w you, and I will."
Year 3's second half : A new team. This is where the average of the 2 halves decides my pay hike.So, I worked a little hard.And got a rating on 3.5 for the 2nd half. Turns out, the average of 2&3.5 is 2.
Another amazing discussion resulted in my understanding, that managers have been taught not to say yes or no but to give ambiguous answers.
I mean, I asked "Even if we don't consider the average of 2 halves, since the 2nd half is always given more weightage.Given the fact that out of 12 individuals at the same level of experience, you yourself chose me to be a team lead. You know that the previous 2 was against my track record, you do appreciate the the fact that I can work.Don't you think I deserve at least a 3?"
And he said "What can we tell the HR, why didn't we know that you were a 4 earlier, how did we come to know now.We have to give them a valid reasoning."
And I think I would have laughed at the whole sham if I wasn't fuming.
Year 4's first half gave me a 3.9.
And going on Year 4's second half, for which I decided to really slog and get that elusive 4.
I HAVE been slogging, late hours, 10 min lunches, no coffee breaks for days at an end.Project deliveries on date, venturing into new areas of procuring business, preparing for certifications. Oh, if I wasn't always such a showoff, you would know that those words are true! ;)
And today something happened, without going into details, I can say something silly got blown out of proportions, it got escalated and one level-up honchos wanted to have a meeting.
My first feeling and I ashamed to say this, but since I am pouring out so much already I'll go ahead, was fear.
Fear that this will become the one black dot against all the other good things I notched up so far.I was readying my defense if I can call it that.I was waiting to be summoned to the meeting like I would for a death knoll.
And finally it hit me.What in the blazing heavens was I working myself to bits for?
For a set of people whose workings I have not been able to respect? For a set of people whose decisions have never been fair? For a set of people who I don't care about, I was wasting my time and energy and in the process giving myself a couple of ulcers.
And then I realised, I don't really like the work I do. I get by it. The money's ok, I am in a comfort zone, I haven't seen growth in my personality in ages, if anything I am getting more retarded(if you know what I mean)
My life is more than a series of performance marks. If I ever get philosophical and judge my worth against that, then please take the closest belan you find and beat that thought out of me.
I am tired of marking my worth on some process I don't believe in.I am tired of putting in futile effort which is not leading me to where I need to be in life's journey.
I am looking for that path now, the one where I can be myself, not be judged and find my peace.

Circus

That's the movie I went to watch last night, most of what the movie was about is really a blur to me already, the only thing I remember, rather only thought I came back with was something I saw on the screen before the movie, just after all the Vicco Vajradanti ads.

They played the Indian National Anthem. A habit probably long lost. And I am proud to say every single person stood up straight, people walking in late stopped on the stairs and moved only after it was over.
There is so much pride in us, the sense of belonging, the visual of the tricolour that bonds us together.
The song they played moved me,not just the music which is really beautiful, but also the smiles on the faces of the people who were showing us where they have to survive so we can be safe in our homes.
Here's the link from Youtube : Indian army in Siachen(with national anthem)

Youtube threw up these other links when I searched for the previous one:
Award winning Indian ad ,Respect the National Anthem

HaPpY nEW yEaR !!!

Time again to round up the year ... I think I should make this a habit starting with last year, i know I know, Jan 1st is just a date, like any other... but whats life if you you don't find a reason to make everyday special (wah wah ;))
hmm, so what did happen this year. oh wait I got a good one,

I got MARRIED !!!!

that overshadows anything else :) (smiles coyly)

and with becoming a Mrs, other changes trickled in.
I have my own home now. I have my own kitchen, I cook and clean and do all that home stuff that we generally leave upto our mothers to do. And you know what, it actually feels good to be in charge. I got to play hostess to friends, cook and run from the kitchen to the hall and act all fussy just like my mom.
I get to decorate my home with all sorts of knick-knacks (that Vc doesn't have the heart to throw away :)) )
I visited a couple of new places ..
Top of the list is Leh, Ladakh (Kashmir)
Then there was a lots of local trips, Mangalore-Udupi, Skandagiri, Sakleshpura and of course Bhadrachalam, which I visited twice in 2008 (that's a big deal coz I haven't visited in the last 10 years before that)
and of course it was the Skandagiri trek where I took a tumble and put a stop burning a hole in Vc's pocket( read no more trips to pretty locales, no more shopping, no movies/outings, heck, I stopped getting out of bed too)
Oh an update on my housemaid's knee , I am feeling a lot better now, another month or so and I should be all back to normal and I so need to get there and shed the 15kgs weight that I have put on. It really hurts, I have taken to wearing sarees and all the oversized clothes I used to crinkle up my nose at coz none of my daily salwar-kameezes fit me anymore. sigh. Well, few more months and I can get back to being an M, get back to going on more trips, (I so want to lay my hands on an SLR and click away some exotic nature stuff this year) , and shopping a ton to make up for the 5 months I spent without new stuff and of course most importantly, be able to walk like a normal person.
Which brings me to having fallen terribly sick twice.
Right after 2 awesome throwball tournaments, one where I was actually approached by the referee who asked me to come for the Indian national team selections.
not bad for a year huh ?
and for this year, what I ask for is good health and a reason to smile everyday and spread it. For me and for everyone else!!
Happy New Year 2009 !!!

Some day ...

The door to our home opens out to an Amla tree with abundant greenery to soothe the eyes, the neighbouring apartments with the watchman/car cleaner/errand-runner ALWAYS available, melodious religious songs playing so softly in the background (from some other neighbour's home), that you almost miss it when there are too many vehicles on the road.
Last evening, I stepped out out with a cuppa chai and was soaking in the sights and sounds when I saw that aunty from the apartments. Now, our house entrance opens to the North and what we see of these apartments is the balcony(probably a replacement of the back door of an independent house), the protective iron-railing which can't block the view of the kitchen, the grey fridge with small magnets on it and of course the apron-clad aunty always puttering about between the dining room and the kitchen.
I have ALWAYS seen her in an apron and at times felt wistful that she probably is an awesome cook and yours truly can never even get the salt right in ghar-ka-Dal.
We don't probably realise until we stop and give it a thought that we form opinions of people based on what we see (there's not much else to go on, I know !! :-P).
Now, my opinion of her is that of a cooking-cleaning-don't really care about how I look-apron wearing-housewife. And I sort of have the feeling that she's pretty good at it.
Now, why yesterday was different was because aunty wasn't wearing an apron. And that's why I stopped to think over my perception of her. And oh, there was nothing else different about her, she was wearing some non-decrepit salwar kameez, her oiled-hair was pulled into a tight low pony tail.She walked down to the ground floor, out the corridor leading the gate and I found myself thinking, "Nice, she's going out" and I was sort of disappointed to see her come right back with a circular dish-thing in her hand filled with sand. She had just gone out to get something she could probably use for some kitchen work and immediately, I felt guilty.
I have always sort of known that every person in himself is an achiever. Each one has varied skills/tendencies that make his life special and him even more special.When a aam-aadmi passes by me, he may not catch my eye, but he could be a teacher who liberates young minds daily, he probably has a great imagination and words to transport his students in a land of no-impossibilities. But to my eyes, he's just a old guy on a cycle with faded clothes. The point is, everyone can't show all that they are to everybody all the time. Which gives us a lesser right to form opinions.(Personal opinion :))
Any hooooooo , back to aunty.
Amidst all the guilt I felt in classifying her into one group and feeling sorry that her life seems so limited, I realised something.
I am not going to end up like her 20 years down the line.
I dont know what it means. I don't know why I dont want to be like her.
I know that if someone judges me and I fall short of some expectations, I won't hear it, just like that lady won't hear a word from me.
I know that my life will also probably have a lot of cooking and cleaning, its part of life, nothing to shirk from or dislike.
So why did I think "I am not going to end up like her 20 years down the line."
Life is mundane however much we deny it. Daily life is a normal phenomena.Expecting each day to be an epic adventure in itself will leave most people dissatisfied.
I think, I saw in her a resigned attitude towards life, each day passing by meaninglessly until its all over.And that I do not like.
Someday, I hope I will be able to look back and say, "Yup, I got to be what I wanted 20 years ago"

Housemaid's knee

Its official. I have Housemaid's knee(Bursitis) . Which in turn translates to me not being able to climb stairs / walk / stand / even sit without pain :(
Am 'resting' the poor knee now having taken a week off from work . Today's my last day off. And I don't miss work. I have actually studied the last couple of days, caught up with some stuff and got myself something that I have wanted since 1998 but never could do it.
Have been living at my mom's, enjoying the comforts of being a child again. I enjoy the conversations with my parents and siblings, its not the same when you talk over the phone or even when you drop in on weekends and spend a couple of hours together.
This is my family, my whole life was literally lived in these 4 walls, all my happy and sad memories, all the laughter, the dreams, the area .. this is what made me me.
I know that this is temporary, I enjoyed re-living something I missed. But it has also made me realise that I have moved on. I am not just a child anymore. I don't know if I really like that.
Sigh.
And my knee, I've consulted 5 allopathy(ic?) doctors and one from Ayurveda. It still hurts like crazy. The only painless period is early morning when I wake up and for almost 4-5 mins I don't realise that I have a right leg. I don't realise that it has to be treated special. I don't remember that I can't put any weight on it, that I have to keep it straight, that if I bend it (it allows me start the day with 'not-so-nice' words ) and worst of all that I can't afford to stub my toe on the bedpost like I usually do ;)
I love those 5 minutes :)
Well, 1-3 months time to heal I believe, say a little prayer for me people. Koi sunlega shayad :)
Pretty please with a cherry on top :)

Gems anyone?

3.10 pm Boring Friday afternoon.
I am going to get an achievement award at 3.30 for having stayed in this company through thick and thin, mostly thin.

3.25pm Get up to leave in the middle of a team discussion.Get to know that people who got the award last year were taken out to Grand Ashoka for lunch and given gift vouchers. But people were wondering, with all the recession issues, what would happen this year.

3.40 pm They got people to collect at the ODC, not even the Cafeteria and no mike on top of all else.
Maybe we were going to just get gems (that's a joke for insiders only :))
One by one, people collected their certificates and cards where teammates had wished them.
A couple of seniors spoke about how my company is the place where you can be what you want to be.
Which was appreciated.
Until another lady said "This is not a place where people tell you your role and give you deadlines and say you HAVE to do this"
Right! which s/w company would fall under that umbrella.

7pm I got home and realised, I have 4 years experience and they gave me a certificate for 3 years !!!

Weighty Issues

A colleague came back from a 6month onsite stint and says "You've gotten fat. I didn't realise at first glance, but now, yup , definitely"
I go "hmm hmm"
and she says "So how much weight DID you put on? 8-10kgs ?"

Sigh .

Last week, that salesgirl who kept giving me clothes in the "L" size, and when I finally got tired and said "Show me the stuff in "M" , she actually said "M wont do for you".

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh .

I know I know, I have realised it, not like I am totally blind. But the funny thing is, when I want to actually control my diet, I seem to crave food more.
Uahahahahahaha . Vicious cycle its getting to be for me.