Skip to main content

Bird on a wire

This weekend, I finally made some time to visit (and I use the word carefully) my feedly subscriptions. There were more than 400 unread articles, dating back to just over a month ago. Which coincidentally was also around the time I wrote my last blog post. Those who know me will get where this is going - that the 400 unread articles are a sign that all is not well in Grinch-land; not just because I read regularly, but also because I am rather particular about not leaving things unfinished. 'Obsessive-compulsive' is the phrase you're reaching for I suspect, though that's neither here nor there. Or perhaps it is.

Either way, for me it isn't and wasn't normal. And therein lies the tale; even by the standards of an abnormal industry anyway, it hasn't been a remotely normal month. This should explain it with far more brevity & humour than yours truly is capable of. And because of it, I have been forced to ignore the other parts of my life. Leave aside books and blog posts, those will always be around, I haven't even seen some of my friends and loved ones in ages. This includes close friends who are a 10 minute auto ride away, and my grandma who lives 3 lanes away, for heaven's sake! Not to mention the fact that since the time I joined the current place, I have totally gone 2 months without visiting Pune, which is not a record I want.   

I took up the new job, full of optimism about doing great work and having more fun. It's been 3 months and all I can say is that my optimism was horribly misplaced. Along with energy, inspiration and hope, I have lost 3 kilos. And I'm pretty pint-sized as it is.

My days are either bad or worse. My weekends are no longer my own. More than once, I've fantasized about resigning and walking away from the shambles that masquerades as my workplace. This past Thursday, I was a 'Send' button click away from doing just that. And yet, here I am typing this, knowing that my hunched and defeated shoulders will present themselves in front of the attendance roster tomorrow.

There are many ways to look at this situation, one of which (and my favourite mantra right now) is that the job market is so bad that quitting without another job would be career suicide. Of course, there are plenty of people who can and do casually toss in the following:
  • Success requires some sacrifices
  • You'll get to learn so much
  • You knew it would be this crazy
  • This is the way it is everywhere
  • It will get better soon
And other similarly pithy catchphrases.

I don't know how to respond to these things. Perhaps that is just as well because right now, a reckless response, whether to hollow maxims or the strains of the job, would do me no good. Instead, it is time I took a leaf out of the book of a friend who, by his own confession, thinks things through.

Now is the time for pause, reflection and then, a decision... not that any decision would be carved in stone, though a little peace and quiet on the job front would be welcome. All I know is that I can't go on like this. On that note, ta for now.

Song for the moment: Walls fall down - Bedouin Soundclash           

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Night Boat

I usually don't write honest pieces. They're true to facts but I tend to lather my emotions and thoughts with a heavy dose of attempted humour or misdirection. This post deserves some raw emotional honesty, though.

Yesterday, 29th August, a Tuesday (or should I say, another Tuesday) was about me making choices. It was raining quite heavily when I left for office, sheeted down the windows of the train throughout the 1-hour journey to Churchgate and kept going with renewed intensity by the time I made it to the entrance, looking verily like something that had drowned in a gutter and lain there a while before being discovered by a cat and dragged in. I made the choice to go to work as I suspected my boss would be there and not because I wanted to go.

I was right about my boss but that cardiac fizz of being right flattened out rather rapidly once I realised, around 11:30 am, that no one else from my team of 20 had bothered to make a similar effort. And, some of these guys live 5 …

Drink up and be somebody

Dear Reader,

History will boldly testify that your favourite blogger is usually slow on the uptake, a state of affairs that's blooming with each passing year like a reverse-Revital. "Why this self-harshness, G", you may ask? Well...

I've been doing the Bom-Pune-Bom trips for 9 years and it's taken about that long to accept that MSRTC Shivneri, still the best bus service of them all, simply cannot (or, realistically, will not) cope with 3-day weekends. Since my job profile does not allow me to plan my travel in advance on said Fridays, I land up at Dadar, view the queue of potential passengers snaking a long way from the ticket window and mentally prepare to arrive home at the hour of morning reserved for sheepish teenagers and dacoits. The Expressway doesn't help anyone's cause thanks to truck drivers spreading themselves generously across 3 lanes and clogging the Lonavala pass to a point where the traffic jam is about 3 km long. A stretch that would tak…

Country Comforts

Part 1

With timing that was far more impeccable than their usual service, the MSRTC went on strike 2 days before Diwali over a pay dispute. I've traveled on their buses for close to 9 years and know full well just how popular they can be just before a major holiday. The chaotic crowd at Dadar is so dense, one would only need to introduce a few Naga sadhus into the mix and hey presto! we've got ourselves a brand new Kumbh Mela. Albeit one where getting out of Bombay ASAP is the only kind of salvation devotees seek. 

News and newspapers being what they are at present, I was unaware of the jolly bus crisis until Wednesday morning when a well-wisher asked how I proposed to go home for the holidays, flourishing the paper in my face with the reluctant panache of a small-town magician. Realising the gravity of the situation, I looked up train schedules and was stunned to find General category seats available on an outstation train departing later that afternoon. As far as I could see, …