Wednesday, January 28


Before pitching tent for good in Pune, there were 2 previous lives for me. One was in Abu Dhabi & Dubai... years characterized by nothing pleasant. The other was Bombay... ancient memories of which seem more akin to those fashioned from fading smells rather than any clear images or experiences. I left Bombay in 1988...

Today, after the drama of the last 3 weeks, there's no feeling of triumph... none even of vindication. Just a simple, slight relaxation of the shoulders, more due to exhaustion than relief & I walked out.

I've got my first real full-time job, starting Monday.

21 years on, I'm returning to Bombay.

At long last, school's out.

Song for the moment: Break the night with colour - Richard Ashcroft

Friday, January 23

Dead on Arrival

It's all very well to bandy about the phrase 'watch the paint dry on the walls' with a lack of appreciation for the excruciating sense of boredom that accompanies the dubious pleasure of actually watching the paint dry... for 3 straight days.

If the above sentence has not put you in the know as to my present mood, go duck your head in some cold water & then read it. If light fails to penetrate even then, congratulate yourself on having a cranium denser than a collapsing star and try not to engage in any complicated activities. Breathing, for instance.

To exacerbate the flavour of my current state, supposed well-wishers are fighting to line up with their book of handy homilies and provide assurance that things will get better or that everything will fall into place & of course that it'll all work out. To which I have resorted to caustically enquiring as to how they know that. At least in this time of doom & gloom, the resulting goldfish-like indignant gapes provide some relief.

Not that I do not appreciate the effort to instil positive feelings into a decidedly funereal atmosphere, but I am in no mood for hopeful "Kumbayahs" being yodelled from every direction with the expectation that I will join in, raise my hands and start praising random entities in fervent entreaty. Yet, considering the concatenation of circumstances so far, a religious experience may at least make life a little more interesting. Does the Flying Spagetti Monster make house calls ?

The delightful surprises in this universe make my life even more appealing. I've just been informed that a gaggle of relatives are descending (or is that ascending ?) on us this weekend. Glory, glory, hallelujah !

Song for the moment: Run like hell - Pink Floyd

Wednesday, January 14

Bulletproof... I wish I was

Fate has called on me, delivered his usual crushing uppercut & made a quick exit. This being the first post of 2009, there was a hankering to write something cheery, hope-filled or some such sentiment. Instead, thanks to the disturbingly consistent Kafka-esq existence that is my life, I am writing this.

See here folks, I'd always wanted to come back to India... to work & and to live. However, wistful romanticism apart, one has to face up to reality. Being 26 and jobless, with degrees that can only be of some use in that Alice-in-Wonderland aka the Non-profit / development sector, is scary. Not only that, all and sundry are working (happily or otherwise), bringing in various parts of the swine. Leaves one wondering about one's purpose in the greater scheme of things and all that.

So, I did what I thought was enough i.e. interviewed with an NGO in Bombay and was eventually given an offer. So far, so good one would think. Then, this happened. At this juncture, any semblance of intelligence should have indicated that things were going pear-shaped but when one is determined to get one's way, life's little banana skins are there to be laughed at. So, I did what the very first living organism in the universe did not; I made the stupid decision.

I hotfooted it back to India on the strength of vague transcontinental conversations held with the the project coordinator at the NGO (which shall be nameless) who assured me in between her mumblings that there was nothing to worry. Which, as we all know, should have told me that I ought to be shivering in my socks with worry. Again, I plead sheer idiocy. Which, inevitably, Fate does not give a shit about.

The coup de grĂ¢ce came today at precisely 3:06 pm. In between my "what the... why the... but, but, buts..." came the gentle announcement that the NGO was initially looking to hire someone ('someone', mind you, not even 'me') in January but were now looking to do so in February.

Late February.

Comprehensively KLPD'ed. And if you are not in the know, that can be roughly explained as the equivalent of taking a sledgehammer to what has tried to pass itself off as my fledgling career, while I look on, grinning foolishly.

In all seriousness, if any of you is aware of any NGO looking to hire, do let me know.

Happy New Year ?? Yea, right.

Song for the moment: Lucky Man - The Verve