Ever since I have seen the video in the news it is running in my head with a replay button on. The video is blurred and is being aired with a warning stating it contains disturbing images and is not suitable for children.
Leave the children alone, it is haunting me.
Little less than 5 hours from the first time it aired in one of the news channels we are having all kind of debates, arguments, discussions and panel meetings of how the ministers are responsible for the cop's death. The channels, the internet is flooded with sms’s and tweets.
I am angry. I am sad. I am pained.
I know I am echoing the emotions of the many who are seeing this story on the news or will wake up to it tomorrow morning’s headlines.
Every sms and each tweet trying to make a point. How the two ministers (one of them - the health minister) should be sacked and for some, hacked for being so incapable. How the high ranking officials in this case the collector and Health secretary who were present at the scene have been inhumane. How the police is ill equipped to save themselves. How the common man (yes, of course, how can we leave him behind) is not safe.
Please look closely into the video, read the facts and probably things may appear a little different. Besides the two ministers there were minister’s security guards, dozen’s of police men, the common man (in this case a dozen or more men) and the cameraman who shot the video. They all could have done something. At least some one could have done something.
I am guilty. For me it was a collective failure. I choose to believe everyone present there is/was responsible in more than one way.
This responsibility doesn’t end by expressing our emotions over tweets and sms polls but only begins by actions.
It is a story about some remote village in Tamil Nadu. And it is a everyday reality in my city lanes and roads. India ranks first on the list of death due to road accidents. Some of which I have witnessed up close in person and have been as incapable and inhumane as any one else in this case. At least twice in my life I have frozen, not knowing what to do. I still carry that guilt somewhere deep down within me. Have you come across a situation where you were left frozen? If yes, then join my circle of guilt.
Did I want to help? Yes. Did I want to do something? Yes. Did I do anything? No.
I froze because my intention lacked knowledge and skills. I realized that in spite of the fact that I wanted to help I couldn’t, simply because I didn’t know what to do.
So did them.
So did you.
I am a believer. I believe there is a Good Samaritan within all of us. I have a strong conviction that we all have the intention. In this case too I believe most of them had the will but they lacked the skill. I am not surprised that the health minister and health secretary didn’t have a clue about what to do. Don’t wish to open up the casket of ugly truth. What about the others?
What about people like you and me? For me one person with basic knowledge of first aid would have made all the difference. I don’t know if it could have saved his life but it would have given him a fair chance. We would have given ourselves a fair chance.
The day we take responsibility, I believe it would be the difference..
From the usual weekends when I would normally trek and travel, this one was different.
Friday night I consciously decided not to do anything but to laze around..
I thought of not doing the usual things that I would otherwise do..
I decided I would take things as they happen and not plan anything unlike other days.
Saturday, 22nd Oct 2007
Unusually I got up by 7. As I lay still, I remembered what I had planned for the day. Nothing! So I chose to keep my actions in line with my mission.
No plans, no scheduled activity, no regular stuff, no routines.
Nothing at all!
Only to realize that even doing nothing takes an effort.
I closed my eyes to go back to sleep hoping to have some dreams. Oops, no dreams. Remember no routine stuff. Thanks to the traffic outside my lane, my task became simpler.
I tried various postures and positions to go back to sleep. Twisted and turned around, even buried my head under the pillows but finally I was not left with much choice but to get up. Even though I had slept for about 8 hours I imposed this ‘grumpy’ effect of not being able to sleep for any longer.
So here I was, all set, for a fresh new day - unplanned, unpredictable and totally impulsive.
I decided to have a royal breakfast. Yes, I am skipping my civic activities, everything – from brushing my teeth to holding on to what wishes to be flushed away. Remember it’s a non routine day.
But then how come I am having breakfast? Because like many it’s not a part of my routine!
I am more of “do waqt ki roti..” types.
I was having scrambled eggs, butter toasts, corn flakes with a glassful of milk and then an apple.
It felt nice.
It felt really, really nice.
Change at times is refreshing.
Then as I seated myself on the couch with my legs widespread on the center table, I noticed the newspaper. Instantly it brought tempting thoughts. Usually, I read my newspaper in the toilet.
Why? Why not? It’s time saving, you are multi-tasking and in emergencies the paper it comes quite handy.
Ah but today no newspaper and no such emergency. So I decided to watch television; without going on to my favourite channels I started surfing channels. An exercise which sub-consciously initiates itself the moment one gets the remote in his hands.
I surfed through some 40 odd regional channels; then glanced through some 10-12 spiritual and devotional channels followed by an equal number of ‘sensational’ news channels broadcasting the same news ‘exclusively’ and ‘repeatedly’. I finally stopped at one particular channel where Prerna is getting marriage for the n’th time and her grand children are deciding what gifts to present the bride of Indian television.
If you don’t know Prerna then my friend you are missing out an entire generation in Indian television.
After watching the heart rending ceremony I moved on to the music channels which had more advertisements and jingles than songs. Pretty interesting shows ‘Get Gorgeous’ & ‘Style Checks’ on a music channel. I wonder if the cultural and moral police are watching. If yes and its still on air then there is only one explanation. Nudity and music is acceptable than nudity and fashion. Totally unacceptable. Unusually interesting!
I switched on to Pogo.
There is a kid in everyone. This sci-fi super hero was trying to manoeuvre his space ship chasing the evil dark lord flying away in his warship. True, there is a kid in everyone but not necessarily a sci-fi kid. I was looking out for Tom and Jerry kind of stuff.
After flipping through some 100 odd channels I came across the ‘usual’ channels. Jeff Corwin was on an Alaskan adventure and Steve Irwin was having fun with the great crocodiles. Much against my wishes I switched channels as I had decided for the day.
I realized there was nothing worthy to be watched.
What a waste?
Sadly, I turned the T.V. off!
Change at times can be disheartening.
The newspaper was irresistible now. Reading paper in the toilet is my usual routine so… So reading it in the hall is unusual enough. I know its cheating but these are my rules. And I was still doing the unusual stuff. I started with Pune Times. The first page, the second followed by the third, fourth, fifth and the sixth. I wonder why they call it Page 3. Nonetheless, who cares?
Painfully I abstained myself from the real life stories and just managed with crappy reel life stories.
No sports section!
Change at times is (un)real.
I switched on my PC, screened through 12 GB of my music collection. Ignoring the folder named favourites I navigated through folders which I never knew existed. I just had the patience to listen to 17 never heard before songs.
Change at times tests patience.
I logged on to my email account. I hate forwards and junk mails. But today was different.
I went through my junk mail. 36 new mails in less than 12 hours! I came across every kind of newsletters and promotions offering free products, services and false hopes…
Change at times can be informative.
Just then something happened. Or rather was waiting to happen. My bowel seemed to be complaining to let go off what I was holding onto. It seemed that all that breakfast was pushing for its own place. And for some reason I was not yet willing to let go. And it was lunch time. I do not have the concept of breakfast and lunch. I eat when I feel like. The only meal I never skip is dinner. Though there is no fixed time for that too. So here I was holding onto last night’s dinner and some part of my breakfast and gearing up for lunch. I hope some of you know how it feels.
Change at times is uncomfortable and challenging.
But keeping to the norm for the day I analyzed the situation. When the going gets tough the tough gets going. To make it tougher I decided to have lunch. Usually, when I am at home I cook my own food as I enjoy cooking. Today, I dialed the Chinese restaurant and ordered ‘veg’ fried rice. It’s very unusual of me. No not the Chinese part but the vegetarian part of it!
Veg Fried Rice. So much for taking myself seriously!
I surfed the T.V. all over again till the food arrived. The Austin Steven’s series, was too tempting but I turned it off. Soon the food arrived.
Veg Fried Rice. I tried my best.
Usually, I don’t waste food but today was an exception. With great effort ate a little portion of it and decided to keep the rest in the refrigerator. This was by far the happiest ‘unusual’ thing so far. I decided never ever to experiment with the eating preferences.
Change at times is a blessing in disguise.
So now I am both. Hungry and bored!
It was unusually a hot evening. Even the weather gods seemed to have joined me in the game. I decided to go out. The obvious choice was movies. Not so obvious choice today.
Hmm.. the mall adjacent to the hall?
I reached the mall and it was not so crowded! I passed by a whole range of products and more variety of people inside. Ever walked around looking at everything but not seeing anything in particular?
Window-shopping? There was so much around me, yet I saw nothing.
The urge to watch a film was strong. So I stood in the queue, bought a ticket for a Kannada film which had started half an hour ago. I continued to take my tour around the mall.
Change at times is idiotic.
By now the urge to use the restroom was compulsive. I held on to it. I wasn’t going to give up so easily. It was just a matter of few more hours. By the time I finished my aimless tour I had spent nearly two hours. It was a great sense of achievement! I finally managed to spend a good amount of time doing nothing.
The crowd had begun to swell up. Now my hunger pangs were digging onto me. Ideally, I would have gone for the scrumptious fast food around me but today was different. I ordered for a plate of fruit salad – cubes of papayas, apples, a slice of pineapple topping and lots of bananas. I hate bananas. The ‘chaat masala’ did compensate for my fast food taste bugs but mostly it gave me the much needed respite from my hunger.
I had managed pretty well so far without falling into my daily routine. Moreover now it was a matter of just few more hours. I already felt victorious. Only to realise it was momentary. It just got tougher. The fruit salad just seemed to have added on to my bowel movement. The situation which looked all under control suddenly seemed to be slipping away. Literally..
Change at times brings volatility.
Now it was getting unbearable. I decided to go home. As long as you walking it is still endurable. But the ride back home proved to be the most testing one.
Change is painful, at times very painful.
Once home I rushed past my parents, who were glued to Meesha Madhavan, it’s not a hasty spelling error but a Malayalam film,straight into the rest room.
And within moments it was all over.
The day was over. It's over when you feel it is over.
A day doing nothing usual!
To end it on this unusual manner I skipped dinner and decided to sleep early.
I switched on the fan, turned off the lights and drew the curtains to make my rooms darker. Triumphant, I laid down on my bed looking at nothing but a thin ray of street light peeping through the slit of the curtains. Then with my eyes closed I remembered the day that was!
A thought floated by, of how my routines, my schedules, my time-tables and my life style had made me so mechanical that it took effort to do something different.
A lot, actually..
Change often leads to new discoveries..
Nothing unusual about this..!!
PS: Its a post written two years ago. Posting it without any edits and changes.
Releasing my hand, after having checked my pulse, the doctor jotted down something. “I will need this blood report by tomorrow evening before we go ahead with the surgery.”
“Oh sure, definitely!” Impulsive yet confidently, I replied with a cursory smile. I guess its pure coincidence that he told me about the test after he had taken my pulse reading which I believe was now beating faster.
I placed his test recommendation slip in my pocket and started walking down to the lab. After walking through clean, alleys I located the bold red words “Pathology Laboratory” at the end of the hallway. I told the ward boy about my test and he directed me to sit out with the other patients waiting anxiously for their turn.
There were about 7-8 boys and girls, who later I discovered had come for routine check up under corporate health policy, waiting for their turn for the blood tests. These patients were unlike the usual ones – ill, pale, or ailing. They were very much like me. Healthy, fit and well! One by one they were going in and coming back with a folded elbow. Some with triumphant smiles and couple of them with tears.
With each of them coming out my turn was getting closer and inevitable. There was something that was bothering me now. Fear! I must say. They all had it. Unlike them I was not carrying it on, kinesthetically.
This is where things get slightly messy.
Fully aware of damaging my macho image, I confess that I am totally scared of needles! This red, hemoglobin rich liquid, by nature, should be inside my body. I am perfectly fine as long as it stays there. The trouble starts only when somebody straps a black band around my arm, asks me to tighten my fist, injects a sharp needle inside the bulging nerve and sucks out a few milliliters of it. Phew!
Finally it was time. I reached the lab. I placated myself saying that those days I was a little boy, now I was a 26 year old. Though that never actually put me to ease I tried to believe it. I was now sitting at the hot seat which was hotter than the usual.
The lab assistant approached me, needle in her hand. I turned away and stared at the open road when she took my right arm in her custody. I felt my whole body going cold. My forehead, I found, was sweating. I knew this feeling. The same feeling I have had as a little boy.
The problem with having an imaginative mind is that, it shows images in your mind that are far worse than what is actually going on.
While I looked up and saw blurred images of the medicine racks someone loaded the film roll and turned on the projector in my minds eye. Vivid images of the needle puncturing into the nerve, blood rushing in with great velocity as the piston draws back, blood spluttering out through the small orifice made by the needle, after the syringe is pulled out.
GOD! As I said, I should rather have looked at what was going on instead of turning away.
At times in life there are moments which seem like ages. These are such moments of my life. And I know I have many such more waiting for me. And these moments last more than you wish them to much unlike to those which you wish to last.
I staggered out of the lab and walked out I started getting a funny feeling. Rejecting it as yet another fragment of my imagination I walked and crashed on to the bench outside. The guy next to me completely perplexed in the change of personality in me offered a smile
“Better?..Feeling better?” “Er..hm..what..yeah..” “Drink some water. Wash your face” “Yeah..hmm..yes…er” “Blood test?” “Nope, HIV test” “Oh! don’t worry things will be fine, I can understand how you feel!” he smiled sympathetically, which was nothing more than a smirk.
I did not reply knowing that he would take leave, stay home, roll all over the floor and laugh at the joke for three full days and two full nights, share it with his friends…
I simply smiled back and then kept walking towards home…
And for you who now know that I am scared of needles I have something joyful to share.
“The guy who drove you to Mumbai this weekend died due to a heart attack at 4 in the morning.”
Ideally this news should have just given me a momentary pause from my busy work schedule to grieve for him. Ideally I should have just forced myself one last time to remember his forgotten face only to forget again. Ideally I should have just spoken some good words as condolence about his good mannerisms. Another sigh and a pause should have been perfect and it was all over.
If it was then why are my eyes swelled up with tears? Why did that momentary grief which should have lasted for a few moments continue to linger and overshadow my thoughts? Why that is then this forgotten face is trying real hard to be remembered?
All I can recollect is a small, thin, soft spoken, modestly dressed figure. Some of this I didn’t notice even while I was with him. But that’s how it is now. My interaction with him was just limited to an enquiry about the route or whether he needed a tea break?
Do I know his name? Raju?
Then why? Why doesn’t he just leave me alone and spare me this agony? Why am I not immune like many other around me? Is there something left unsaid, undone?
Something more than the just obvious!
Why there are tears in my eyes for a stranger whom I had known for only few hours? I fail to fathom.
While he has departed for his heavenly abode he has left behind this despair. Why didn’t he just take them along? May be he did!
Unfinished business, unfulfilled promises and postponed dreams for a day which he would now never see.
Did he get a chance to contemplate with them? May be he did. May be he didn’t. Does anyone do?
Is it really about him? Or is it about someone else?
** This is an e-mail I had sent to my colleagues on completing one year in PLI (Pragati Leadership Institute)
Dear All, Today I complete one year being a part of ‘Pragati Family’.
I found it really difficult and almost impossible to sum up my gratitude in a thank you note.
So in a state of pure joy for this accomplishment I wish to take liberty to share this write up which I had written a couple of weeks ago.
The other day while I was sitting with an old hostel friend, who is now employed in the booming IT industry, we discussed about our jobs amongst many other things.
He was expressing our transition from real freedom to assumed freedom. I am here talking about our transition from our college to the big competitive corporate world. He was comparing the good old days of hostel with his experiences of the so called glamorous and fun filled IT industry.
The days we used to linger around spacious hot open grounds and noisy class rooms. Those days when with just 100 Rs. in pocket we used to plan the whole week within that budget. But now we wander along the well cleaned, fully air-conditioned corridors with about five to six credit cards in our pocket planning where to swipe the cards. Credit cards eagerly waiting to eat next month's salary. Financially we just moved on from a lower level financial stability to a higher level of viscous financial instability.
It’s difficult to believe that it was just couple of years ago 100 Rs. seemed to be thousands and now even thousands seems to be nothing.
College canteen, cutting chai at our own chaiwallah were our favorite hot spots where we spent hours together, having a hearty chat with our buddies forgetting the whole world. Today Café Coffee Day, Mochas, Baristas have taken those places. With mostly numbers, deadlines and targets being the reason of conversation.
What a coffee cost 5Rs couple of years back has now gone up to 50Rs a cup and yet its tasteless, meaningless.
Those precious days where we used to laugh for nothing, even when we failed in our papers because we got 30 marks for an empty paper. But now we rarely smile except the smile for the forward we just received or the smile to your our colleagues to impress them.
Hate and Ego were words unheard in those days. You smash or hit your friend for some reason and the next moment you walk along him with hands on his shoulders. But now you don’t like the guy sitting beside you because he's getting a salary 10k greater than you or he's always being appreciated by your Boss. True friends are hard to find here!
In college if some one talked bad about our college we found our blood boiling inside even though we didn't like our principal.
But here loyalty is the lost word; we just look for opportunities to criticize our company.
We had seen the late nights only on the eve of the exam, when we relied on a friend to wake us at 1or 2am. The only time tension ever grappled was when we were just entering the examination hall to realize that we forgot to revise an important question that my friend had suggested will surely appear on this exam. But today you work at least 5 days a week till 1 or 2 in the night to deliver something to your unknown client who is at US or UK. You are aimlessly typing at the useless word document that your Boss asked you to finish with his tailor made smile.
Tension, stress and migraine being an integral, inseparable part of us!
With calls from home and your eye lids eager to kiss each other; you promise them to allow it a little later.
My friend ended his monologue with an analogy where he said “It seems I have been in my own desert where I have realized that I am running away from the warmth of the Oasis to chase a mirage. A mirage that has lots of promises, but it’s still just a mirage. When I turn back I find thousands chasing that mirage with an ID card around their neck. I wish them all the best.”
Once finished he looked at me for a nod or a sigh as affirmation.
I smiled.
I continue to smile even now while I write this piece.
Only if I could resonate with his experience or agree with him!
Writing all this to celebrate my first anniversary with Pragati where I have an experience which doesn’t match with anything that my friend accounted for.
Thank you all for your love, care, guidance and most importantly friendship during these 12 months which gives me a reason to smile.
It has truly been a blessed and wonderful year!
Yours truly, anish menon
PS: I joined Pragati Leadership Institute on the 28th February, 2007.
I heard a distant mumbling.. Then I was drawn towards this voice.. It got louder and clearer when I reached the pinnacle..
“Persuade them to work 7 days each week, 10-12 hours a day, so they can afford their empty lifestyles...”He said.
A deep husky voice.. I was amused and mersmerised..
I listened more attentively.. "Let their lives be motivated by numbers..targets and deadlines...
Let them live off coffee machines and junk food..
Keep them from spending time with their family and soon their homes will offer no escape from the pressures of work!
Then take them to the best discs and pubs only to refresh and rejuvenate themselves over smoke, beer and upbeat music..
Entice them to play the radio or cassette player whenever they drive and to keep the TV’s and their PCs going constantly..
Invade their spare time with ‘Sudoku’, 'Solitaire' and ‘Snake’..
And even their driving moments with skinny, beautiful and handsome models on billboards..
Make them fall in love and then fall out of love.. Then loose faith in all relationships..
Let their presence be felt by their friends through those unwanted forwards.. Flood their mailboxes with such junk mail..
N evn if dey sms mke evry lettr count..
Then send them to malls, sporting events, amusement parks, rock concerts, and movies instead..
Tempt them to spend more than what they earn and then make them work even harder to earn, borrow and loan..
Keep them busy in the non-essentials of life and invent innumerable schemes to occupy their minds..
Let them be lost and misguided about the mere essence of life.. 'to live rather exist'..
Crowd their lives with distractions so that they cannot hear that still, small voice..
Even if they do..
Confuse them..
Discourage them..
Make them doubt themselves..
And then give them headaches too..!!
Keep them too busy to go out in nature and reflect on its wonders..
to pause..
to reflect and
to think...
Keep them busy, busy, busy..!!!
And it will work..!!”
Then I heard my alarm go berserk..
Then through the day I kept thinking about this dream.. Wondering whether I should I be thinking about it at all..!! I don't know.. It was quite a plan!
But then I should worry only if dreams ever come true..
Tired yet in a hurry, I was trying to cross over the road which separated me from a glimpse of the last few overs of India Pak finals.
The usual busy road had a deserted look today and this reaffirmed my conclusion of being the only honest and hardworking employee in the town.
Though I was missing the action I had plugged on to my earphones, patiently bearing the over enthusiastic RJ and his umpteen breaks but religiously keeping a track of the score.
And as I was just a stone throw away from home I removed the ear plugs and leaped forward to cross.
CRRRAAAASSSHHH..!!
It took me a while to realise what happened.
I was flat on the ground and in pain.
I saw a hand reaching out to me to with an expression of aghast all over his face. Apologising profusely he enquired whether I was ok.
I guess I was.
Meanwhile I enquired with my intimidating looks to understand what went wrong. Apologetically he offered me to drop me home but then I wasn’t that hurt. While taking complete control of my senses I heard something crackle under this stupid motorist-turned- Good Samaritan’s foot.
It was my 3230..!!
Though I survived the accident, with minor injuries, it proved to be fatal for my 3230.
Without another word being said this stupid motorist-turned-Good Samaritan-turned-murderer decided to leave.
All that was left behind was me and remains of my 3230.
While collecting of what was left of my 3230 scattered over the tarred surface I remembered the time when my father had gifted it to me, when he failed to understand this gadget.
I was upset!
I reached home to a nail biting finish of the finals which finally overpowered the grief and loss of my buddy. Glad that such a game exists which makes you forget everything and cheers up the spirit.
Only if I had the slightest clue of what was coming ahead I would have been better prepared.
After we won the match, excitedly I reached out to call up on friends and share the joy.. But.. Call whom.. Or rather how.. That’s when I realised the gravity of my misery.. Till couple of hours back I had my entire world in my hands and now even though they were still there somewhere in the cosmos I had lost them..
Technology not just empowers but over dependence can at times paralyse you.. Unlike few years back, I used to remember some 50 odd no.s at the back of my head..but today I didn't remember any..
Happy yet lonely I retired to bed while the whole nation was celebrating.
Soon it was dawn. There was no bright sunlight beaming into my room. No nightmares, no bad dreams. And I had a sound sleep! It’s a divine gift to hear oneself sleep..and not many are as lucky as me.
Everything seemed perfect! It ought to be a good day.
I habitually reached under my pillow but could not find what I was looking for. I looked around whether I dropped it while performing my usual sleep acrobatics. But not a trace of it.
Paused.. Thought.. Flashback..!!
And soon the good day had a spill over effect from yesterday. No wonder why I didn’t hear my alarm go wild and vibrate all over.
But then I think I did pretty well to get up on my own.
Yesterday is past. And today is a new day.
With this encouraging thought I dragged myself out of my bed to the drawing room to see the time.
Mom, dad had already left for work so it was a quiet morning as usual.
The clock ticked 09:10.
09:10..!!!!
Damn I was late for office. And I thought I was up early.
Hurriedly I did my daily chores cutting short things that could be avoided. Cosmetics can make you feel good as fresh as ever.
By 9:30 I was at the bus stop waiting for Bus no. 246 to arrive.
I glanced around to see some familiar faces and some friendly eyes to get assurance that I wasn’t that late. But with no luck! I soon realised I was late. Sometimes even hope gives up on us.
But then I did see some new eyes. Pretty! That’s all what you can see when the entire face is wrapped around resembling some Taliban outfit dressed in colourful prints.
Finally the bus arrived and I got to board it with some use of muscle power. It supplements my daily exercise, thus giving me more time to sleep.
The bus was more crowded than the usual. May be beacuse the whole world got up late!
Ever been in traffic jams when you are in most hurry?
Ever been in a situation when its jam packed inside the bus and you are holding on to your life by one hand and your bag on the other. Then struggle for couple of inches to stand on your toes. With someone’s arm around your waist fighting his own battle and one of the pretty eyes from the bus stop right under your nose.
And exactly at that time, when you most vulnerable, a tiny drop decides to roll down from your forehead bisecting your eyebrows with great precision, roll over your nose and hang on the tip trying to defy gravity.
Followed by an itch rather a tickle and a strong urge to just reach out and wipe it off.
It’s quite spine-tingling!
Usually when you fail to do anything else, just a slight shake of neck and there it goes.
This was something similar.
At times it can get quite uncomfortable especially when you don’t have any other means of distraction.
Its about 90 minutes ride to office. I am not a book enthusiast. And in any case one cannot read under such circumstances especially when your nose is also having a treat to different odours some artificial and some purely natural.
So like many others I had found a way out. I listen to music. And today I missed it more than anything. I realised how effective it was to be in bliss and ignore the different experiences one comes across in daily life. Once you are tuned into your favourite playlist or radio external stimulus doesn’t really affect you.
Now my growing impatience was directly proportional to the time ticking by, which I had absolutely no track.
I had a presentation at 11:30 which I was sure I could make on time. I had to or else I was screwed!
To be on the safer side I wanted to inform my office but then ‘How’.
My good day was turning into a not so good day.
I finally reached office. Anxious and cautious I logged on to my system at 11:20 am. The room was full when I had entered and my boss had this huge question mark about where was I and placed her hands near her ear and mumbled something. Though I am horrible at dumb charades I got the words correct! “Why didn’t you call?”
Only, if I could explain myself.
The presentation went well and that saved my ass getting fired.
Over lunch I shared my misery of how handicapped I had become in these few hours. And it was interesting to hear my colleagues empathise with me and admit to similar experiences.
I realised how much this “three two three zero” had become an integral part of my lifestyle. In fact it was not merely a part of my lifestyle but was more of an extension of me. It had served me good. It had been with me for over 2 years, so no wonder I had become so dependant on it.
And now when it isn’t no more I had to get a new one to get over this whole cycle of dependency and helplessness.
I wished to speak to my brother to enquire which one to buy but only if I remembered his no. So decided to call up mom to take his no. but except the fact that she has an idea connection I had no idea about her no. either.
I thought I was a good brother and more importantly a loving son.
I still think I am..
Finally after two days of similar struggle and lots of research I finally bought a new partner.. 850i..
