Day 59 : Work Life Balance

For past few days I've been having my morning tea at office with some newer colleagues of mine. People who have joined the company recently. Senior folks who've had a lot experience in bunch of other establishments and somehow now find themselves in the next cubicle with a secret stash of Game of Thrones mugs and posters in one of his desk drawers. 

I like mingling at work, that's one of the good things about me, I am sort of proud of the fact that I know most of the people in my floor by name and shoulder fists. And they have same of me. So undoubtedly I talk to all the new folks, find something we have in common so that when we happen to stand close at the Men's there are no awkward silences while we both try our best to look straight at the wall in front of us.

Today while having tea and breakfast with these folks, a topic that started with getting smart about financial investment went on into past girlfriends in college, to wave boarding, and finally to work-life balance in all of their previous companies. I agree those are quite a lot of tangents in a 30 minute conversation. Well you are bound to have a lot of those when you are in conversation with me.

Anyways, apparently this has been a major deciding factor for all of these folks while switching companies. They all have had at least own rotten experience in their life where they've had to spend more time in office than at home, something they all despised, and having going almost broke paying medical bills for stress and exhaustion related ailments. Most of these men are at least a decade older than me. So most of their part of the conversation involves them lecturing sage words of wisdom about work in IT life. I really don't mind any of it, honestly. I actually do enjoy listening to stories of other people. It makes people very personal and relatable. I like that.

There was one person who used to work in a Dot Com start up back in the 2000's when it was in its last throes of glory. Back when a sites' success was not based on the shock value or media buys. Not every website had to sell-out to be a success. He seemed to be passionate about it, a lot more than he is about his work now. Well he has been into this for over 15 years; I guess the heat wears off in time. He likens his time at the startup to the time in every relationship when the romance has just started and you've just begun shacking it up. You are discovering new things about each others. Each part is a mystery, and you enjoy solving the mysteries. Both about her and about you. But soon the pace tires you out. You are beat and breathless. The passion weans out. And you begin to think to cut loose before things get a lot worse for you. You quit/breakup.

There was another person who used to work in a hardcore tech environment. His company used to develop software for various industries to manage their invoice and inventory system. All very complex and technical. Highly crucial and high profile stuff. Very stressful, a lot of money was on the line to afford to goof things up. He worked there for 5 years. Had to be hospitalized twice, destroyed his relationship with a long time girlfriend and now has nothing but a car a lifelong heart disease to show for it. The sad part was that he never realized things were that bad when he was there. There was no epiphany, or a moment of clarity where he came to realize how this one job was dragging his life into the gutter and he quit. The fact was that he was laid off during the recession. He gave up all the good parts for this company and it gave him up for a newer and a much younger prey. I think he hated that part the most.

There was another guy who used to work in the IT department of a banking firm. He seemed to have a much more relaxed work life. A bit too relaxed as matter of fact. He worked there for eight years. He was in his twenties when he joined right out of college, smart and energetic. Also very young. So he obviously enjoyed all the free time. He used to leave work soon while all of his buddies were still toiling away at their desks. He had a lot of time for himself. And he spent most of it high on booze and "playing the field" (I know. That's exactly what he said!). He spent all of his 20's like that. Got married when he was 31, arranged by his parents. Now has a kid. Has a job that doesn't really pay as much as what his experience and role might usually get him. All because he spent a little too much time goofing around while his mates were able to work long and learn more, what he learned in his previous company is now obsolete. Now he says he is too old learn new stuff. And he has a family to support now, he cannot risk with a lower paying job and start from the ground level again. He has to take what he gets.

Yes. That was my early morning breakfast conversation. Delightful isn't it.

Today, I need to find a lesser depressing crowd to hang out with for lunch at least.

Day 58 : Optimistic Nihilist

Do you ever notice that you always keep changing your mind about things way too much? I always do that. I start out actually having a strong opinion about something and by the week's end I will be having radically opposite notion about the very same thing. I cannot really come to be of a strong conviction any one thing really, especially when it is something of the future. 

Do I want to write? Do want to keep doing the work I am currently doing? Do I want to quit and go do college again? If I do, do I want to learn something creative? Or do I just go ahead get a master in the field I am already into? Or do I just quit and go to the Himalayas in search of enlightenment?

I get so confused with these decisions, what do I really want to do with my life? I guess nobody really has an answer to it. But still isn't that the big question, what the heck are we doing with ourselves? Is this all there is to it? Is this what we are all meant to do? There are people out there who do amazing things with their life, right? The magazines are filled with pictures of their accomplishments and great feats. Isn't that what is to be our aim as well? Go out do big things and get our faces pasted on the cover of Time magazine. Isn't that THE dream? To be somebody.

But then I had a really good look at all the "somebody’s that I know/heard of. The famous artists, musicians, actors, intelligent people, thought leaders, party leaders, mass murderers. A big chunk of them became "somebody’s only after they were dead and done. Sure most of them knew a bit of fame when they were alive but a lot of them only came about to be the legends they are today only at retrospect. I respect those somebody’s. The ones that are revered and remembered. Ones that will be remembered even twenty years after they are dead and decomposed.

In today's day and age, there are a lot of famous people doing the rounds. It has become rather easy to become famous these days. All you have to do is have a reality show, have a big butt, or just post picture of a dress on Instagram with questionable color hues. People get famous all the time. And then people also get forgotten all the time. I can guarantee you, for example, thirty years from now you will remember Jennifer Lawrence for her scene outside the theatre in Silver Linings.. More than for her nude pictures that got leaked over the internet a few months ago. Because that is somebody who deserves the fame. She has got the skills. (And the fact that she is irresistibly adorable)

I don't suppose that we are all that memorable. I don't have high hopes that a lot many of us will be remembered more than those coming in the next generation, and only a handful at that if at all. But I do think that if we really got into it at all we are all capable of doing something worth remembering by. I am an optimistic nihilist. While I agree there is no point to any of it, we are all just dead people who just don't know it yet. I also believe that we can also create something  worthwhile and enjoy the time we have on this planet. The whole idea of morals and right and wrong is trivial but gratification for ones desires or hunger or lack thereof, should be our goal.

Today, create something out of love, just for your own sake.

Day 57 : Stop Copying

Have you noticed that these days people do not really converse to each other as much as they used to. I remember when I was a kid, where I used to hang out with a couple of older kids. They lived in another apartment building but ours shared a playground with theirs so we would bump into each other often. Mostly near the water tank after playing a game of cricket or football (I was no good at either of them). We used to sit there the rest of the evening with our back to the cool concrete of the tank and talk.

These kids were complete dorks, I realize now. But back then they I thought them to be really cool, they would talk with me about terrorist beheading and animal mutilation and such; things that the adults would never talk about around me. Do remember, I was in sixth grade back then, though I did look much bigger for my age. I felt smart around them too. They used to include me in their conversation. They played video games, were big fans of Contra and Mario. I'd only get to play the game rarely when I was a kid, I've never had a gaming console all childhood, my father disliked anything remotely addicting. But I did get to play ones with them.

We used to play those WWE Superstar Trading cards. You know, my Mark Henry's biceps beats your Triple H's. We used to play cards, abuse each other, talk cartoons and terrorists, drink cola, abuse each other some more, go home dirty head to toe smelling like piss and mud, but happy through and through.

Now, I do not know where those two kids are. And honestly I do not even remember their last names. But I do remember their faces, and the amiable smiles even they know what this kid three grades below them was talking about something completely lame. You see back when we were kids, we were all stupid, we knew we were stupid to some level, but we never made it a thing to point to other's stupidity and make it like it some big accomplishment if were able to make someone feel dumb. We didn't feel threatened by intelligence, we didn't belittle smart people. We were in awe of them. We inspired to be them. We were kinder back then. We were as we were, natural, unadulterated, and pure. We did not imitate. We hadn't yet learned how to.

Today we are so exposed to external characters and their tailor-made monologues that we can choose to portray any persona by just repeating the dialogues of any of the characters we come across. Want to be sarcastic? Copy Chandler Bing. Want to be snarky smart ass? Copy Sherlock. Want to be the seductive female? Copy that lead in Femme Fatale. Want be the big bad man of the group? Copy Tony Soprano. Want to be the adorable nerd? Copy Leonard Hofstadter. Want to be the bad-ass nerd? Copy Walter White.

There is already a template available for all sorts of people out there. I guess that is why whenever you drift off from someone, you always have a ready excuse for it. 'We never really connected completely.' Well, of course you didn't. You were not being yourself, neither was that person. We are all busy trying to behave like some ideal character that half a dozen spent a decade developing, and earned millions off of it, that we think that we can just copy the same and get cool and liked just by its merit. It doesn't work that way.

People like (or liked) other people, by connecting with that people on a closer, more personal level. By trying to be cooler, and fake, you are hiding your true self. You will never act foolish or be vulnerable around someone if you are hiding yourself away behind an image of someone else. Nobody is perfect, and for me at least, that just works fine. I don't want perfect. Perfect reeks of fake.

Today, stop copying.

Day 56 : 2013 - The Absent Year

Today started rather odd. On my way to office while boarding the train to work, a random girl started smiling and waving at me. I naturally thought there must be someone standing behind me and that enthusiastic wave is meant for that person. Don't you just hate it when that happens? I ignored this girl; I got into the train, took a seat, put my earplugs in and carried on with the book I was reading (Gone Girl, by G Flynn).

Soon the trained reached my station, too soon actually I was getting to the part where Amy's diary gets discovered, and I got down from the train. And there she was again, this time right in front me, looking straight at me. Surely there was no confusion anymore, I took out my earplugs and asked her if I knew her. She poked at my arm saying, I am being a typical guy, and of course I knew her. She used to living in the same hostel building as me in Pune. We used to eat dinners together in the canteen at times. We did? Did I ever eat in that canteen? I always had a serious dislike for canteen sort of food. There was no way they can afford chicken at those prices, who knows what sort of bird they we end up eating in those places. Plus the oil, there is always a layer of oil floating on top of every curry they ever make.

I just pretended that I did remember her, asked how she was, how come she is in Mumbai, does she work here now, blah blah, the usual. All the while I was trying to remember her name. Damn, I've no clue who she was and here she was talking about the biotech course that my sister (she remembered even her name!) was taking in college. Did I really talk about my sister with her? Who is this girl?

I was practically jogging by then, trying to reach my office building as soon as possible to avoid extending this conversation any longer than it needs to be. Don't get me wrong, the girl was not hideous or anything. Actually she was really pretty in a way. Small and petite, that's always cute. Remember, I am a really tall guy walking fast, so she probably had to run to keep up with me. And that she did. She talked all the way to office. We reached her office first, she demanded my number, got me to promise to keep in touch and we departed our ways. Her joking about something related to a blue moon or something, or was a glue cartoon? Not really sure, she talked way too fast to keep up with half the things she said.

Now here I am at work, done with the pending tasks from yesterday and the crucial ones for today. And all I can think about is that girl. How can I not remember someone? I am always the one who remembers faces. I recognize people I have only met once decades ago and still remember stories about them. My memory might be devastating when it comes to math and such, but with people I am really good.

So I sat there and started to recollect the hostel that she was talking about. It was a mixed hostel, had both guys and girls staying there. I remembered that distinctly. I also remember that there was a canteen near the hostel where folks from there used to go for supper. I can remember

 Only two people from that time, and one of them only because I actually knew him before 2013.

2013. That infamous black hole of my life. Damn, whenever something of this sort happens I can easily map it to this period of total chaos. There were so many things constantly happening with me and to me, I still have no idea what truly went down in those twelve month. Them shrinks call it PTSD or something. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, does that mean there was something that bad in 2013 that my brain is trying its best to completely record over. Damn, no I am curious what that might be. In our totally mediocre daily routine, I'd be really shocked to know that something this traumatic can actually happen to someone. It’s not like we are the 20-somethings fighting war killing people. Or out there getting abused on a daily basis. I sure hope no one is.

2013, draws a complete blank inside my head at times. So if you met me during this time. Or if there was something I did or say during this time. Please don't think too much of it, I was probably working on auto-pilot all that time. And if you had loaned me some money during that time. Definitely, forget about it.

Today, I plan go through my 2013 Facebook and Blogger posts. Maybe I'd find some clues to the puzzle there.

Day 55 : Lie and Bullsh*t Continuum

Life today is like a bunch of back to back totally made-up stories of grandeur with intermittent sprinkle of cheating and pizza. We spend a lot of time inside our own made up universe, so that the outside world doesn't seem too real and disappointing to us. Inside our heads we are chic and cool, speak all big smart words, walk confidently and smell delicious. While the truth is half the words you say cannot be understood by anyone, and you walk like Cramer in Seinfeld, and you smell too much like a funeral home with all that perfume you drowned yourself in to cover the stench of sweat. People sweat a lot more than they think they do!

Every time you open your Facebook or Twitter or WhatsApp, you will find a bunch of pictures of people travelling to exotic places, throwing big parties, wishing each others on engagements or a big promotion. Then you also join in with the other cattle and 'moo' in your congratulatory words. All the while, you gossip with the person standing next to you (or the voice inside of your head) how the person who got that promotion had an affair with his/her boss. Or how the person who's been travelling to all those exotic places has a drug problem. Or how that colleague who is throwing a big party, for which you were not invited, is gay.

All that stories you yourself heard from somewhere may or may not be true. And frankly, you wouldn't give a damn either way, because lying has become such a part of our daily routine that we tend to unquestioningly consume every story about everyone. The more controversial they are, the more it spreads within the masses. We have grown to enjoy scandalizing everyone's life so much that there are some people who actually feel disappointed when they find that there aren't many stories been circulating about them of late. They begin to feel like they have let themselves down.

That's the part that I do not get. When did we all begin to worry so much of the stories that people perceive about us. Oh, you bought a new tank top? Please do take a picture of you in it and share with the 1000-odd strangers you have on your Facebook, and the couple of future stalker pervert you added unknowingly because they had mutual friends with you.

It is not only the girls that confuse me. Historically this idea of a "Man" has been to keep his feelings locked inside, and just flex his biceps and grunt his way through life. The more emotionally available and mysterious a guy is more appealing he is to the female crowd. Now, I see Twitter being used like a shrink's couch where every single guy just feels compelled to push his innermost feelings and thoughts about every single thing on this planet. No matter how inappropriately creepy or offensive they may be.

Our lying in social media is like a gateway drug for our real one. The way we portray ourselves in the Facebook, bleeds into our social like with real-life human beings. Questions like 'You seemed so smart and articulate, how come you are such a dork in real life?’ are much more common these days.

You are not what you show yourself to be in there. You cannot pack your dog poop in glitter paper and sell it to people as Sneaker bars. It just doesn't work that way. You are what you are, weird pithy and unique. Just like the 8 billion other people on this planet. You are not going to change yourself just by putting up and allowing yourself to be tagged in only the good posts in social media. Just like the billions of other people on that site.

You are never going to be all that grand in real life. But that does in no way mean that
the ordinary you are any less special.

Stop lying. Stop bullsh*tting.

Be good. That's all that counts.
 

Day 54 : Writing

"Why do you write?"

I don't know. Writing is a sort of outlet for all of the things that one needs to speak. Everyone has something to say. Most of the time it does not all that groundbreaking or unique, but for the one who is writing it, each sentence that he/she manages to form is a huge accomplishment of its own.

Everyone who writes will tell the same thing. Every time a person opens up his word processor on his computer or sits in front of a blank page on his desk with a pen in his hand, he will for the majority of the time just stare at it thinking where to begin. It is sort of easier when you are in the middle of a story, you look at the past few paragraph get a feel of how the plot's been progressing and get back to that place inside your head where all of this is actually happening and you got it all done, creating a whole new universe out of thin air.

A lot of people keep saying that you are what you write. There is a lot of nascent confession in whatever a person writes. I suppose that is right. Most writers do want to make readers feel like they relate to writer. The writer is not an alien being with long limbs, pale skin and one eye on his forehead. He/she is just as common as you and I are, only that he is spends most of his life indoors cooped up on his sofa binge watching television series and cursing at how good they're written. At the end of each awesome season finale (Breaking Bad!) he enthusiastically pulls out his laptop on the coffee table and starts punching keys away feeling inspired. That last for about six pages. Soon he realizes he has written himself into a corner and doesn't really know where he could take the plot from there.

But as frustrating as it can be, writing is actually a lot of fun; especially when you actually get to complete something worthwhile. It is such a rush. It does get to be a bit exhausting, and you do have to invest a lot into it. But in the end, man does it feel so good!

Writing is one thing I enjoy a lot - creating stories, and people, and plot, and surprises. This week, looks like I will be completing first draft of my very first short story!

:) :) :)

Day 53 : The Voices In Our Head

There is a little flower that blooms on the pile of garbage, on a piece of bark, on a moss of green.

I've never seen a sight more hopeful, this flurry of color, on brown and dirt, in the midst of stink and reek.

I look at the life of those around me, and mine. At the toil and the gripe we feel it to be. At the helplessness we feel trying to cope with it.

There must be something that still pushes us forward. To live each day. Survive as best as we could, not give in to the despair. Why then must we think of putting up with this torture each day?

I see strength when people to put a strong face and go about their lives. Or is it pride?

We are all too strong for our own good I guess. We are all maybe waiting for someone to hear our silent calls for help. We are all needy but hate to show it.

We still dream of it. We think someone will come save us. So we wait, hoping for the day to come.

That is why we all do not give in to the voices in our heads. After all, nobody will hear our cries with the barrel of a gun between our teeth.