To be or not to be...

At times I am at a total loss about what to do with my life. Eating, sleeping, reading story book apart, and add to that the little bit of regular work I have to do to earn my living, I find my life to be quite quite aimless. It would be quite depressing if I sit down and think - thing is I don't allow myself that provision. I tend to push myself to remain busy with something or the other. But fact of the matter is that none of these things that I deal with, actually belongs to me. The job is a contractual one and will go after 3 years. Yes, unfortunately it is 3 years, I had misinterpreted it as 5 years. It was a 4 years project with  a clause to extend for another year, which we won't be going for, and one year from that time frame was already over by the time I got recruited. Some issue with release of fund it seems. For these 3 years too, it is renewable every year, so it is actually not a very reliable thing. My family is indeed the reason I returned here, and every moment I get the feeling that they really don't need me the way I need them. I wonder if at all I am valued by anyone. And Eid Mubarak to all, but holidays are scary because if I manage to finish my existing story book (I finished the last Agatha Christie I bought, and by the way, she wrote about Daily Budget, which might have influenced J K Rowling's Daily Prophet...me and my discoveries...), unwanted thoughts would rush to my mind and make me quite miserable, try as I might to look the other way.

It is a pathetic life. I don't have a single person of my age whom I can call a friend, who I can hang out with. Yes, if I keep to myself, I have one of the best lives. I have ample money, in fact in a relatively poor place like Kolkata, I feel over privileged. How hard people are working everywhere, just to somehow manage their daily minimum expenses. Cribbing in such an environment for self satisfaction seems like a luxury. If these poor people would get to know my reasons for unhappiness, they are sure to make a face and tell me, but you don't need to worry about what to eat. But then if I try to explain to them, come on, you didn't have to struggle to make friends, to get married, to have kids...I don't have any of your advantages in my life, they won't probably understand. They won't even get it if I tell them that I am still young enough, and I don't really want to live this nun's life. In a society where little girls get raped in their schools, organizations that are battling crime against women might retort saying, you are lucky to be the way you are.

I am not the person who prefers existing rather than living. But then, this is a life I only have chosen. What else was there for me to do? I knew I want a different life, I did things to ensure it, and screwed it up to the ultimate extent. I am incurably shy, I cannot reach out. I am an egotist, I cannot plead. A colleague in the university has become almost like an elder brother. He was kind of scolding me the other day. What do you think you are doing with your life? Think of something - get married, adopt a kid, decide on some means of sustaining yourself in your old age. He was not wrong in saying that, even I know about the necessity of doing something. I have been pushing my parents to speak to that prospective Iniesta look alike's family. I can't describe how difficult it was to bring up the topic itself with them. I do feel at times that they have given up on this, or they were never really interested much in this. They'd rather have their daughter safe than sorry. I have seen how Boo's parents or Anand's parents were hell bent on getting them married. My parents are not like that. Even after my coaxing, they called once, and haven't really followed up since then. I tried to live in my bubble for a little while, way I do. Refused to check out the person on the net, just wanted to dream about his virtual self for a while. And then a time came when I felt like throwing things at that image of his. Grrrr Mister, I don't need your virtual self, I need the real you. Ever since my childhood, all I have been looking for is a friend who'd last, a friend who'd stay by my side. Because it always seemed so impossible, that someone would care for me to that extent, I created my dream world. But now, 34 years later, I am sick and tired of it. It is reality I crave for. Flesh and blood, not bubbles, thank you very much.

What's wrong with me really? I am not ugly. Though my hair is thinning a bit, and I frequently have bad hair days, and I have a very oily skin, I am definitely not ugly. I might be overweight but I am not voluptuous and shapeless. I have brains people would literally die for. I can talk intelligently and with humor too. Yes I am a little eccentric, but I strongly believe that people should be a little mad to survive on this earth. I am hugely successful in my work place, anywhere and everywhere I go, people are appreciative. In the recent audit that took place in my current project, the auditors praised me so much that I believe the professor in charge of the audit got a bit envious. He started saying things like, yes, she has a flare for such things, that is why we have hired her, so that she can complement our work. Flare for financial audit? Excuse me, but that's something I have never done. As if you'd be able to handle the technical part if I give up, I had a good mind to say, but controlled myself. Life or no life, I can't lose the satisfaction of being employed, you see. And pocket money is required even when you are at your most pensive state. And the last bit shows that I am a practical person. Then, pray tell me, what's wrong with me, that I am not even being given a chance to live life properly? Oh girl, but don't you read current affairs? But of course I do...why, Boo called me the most intelligent girl on earth, because I knew the place where most number of serial killers have materialized. I am a wiki holic, and I spend most of my spare time reading newspapers and surfing the net. Then girl, you should not ask for a life when people are dying in Iraq and Palestine and when planes are crashing one after the other. So many people are simply dying, and you crib about not having a good enough life. Shame on you.

Well low salary and other humiliating stuff apart, got this beauty for myself, from my project (at least till next June - provided I don't leave this job before that or I am not thrown out before my initially agreed one year term). Isn't this a new reason to live? - I ask myself. No, comes the answer. I'm still getting accustomed to it, you see...I still prefer the ease of a purely Windows based machine (with proper right click and both backspace and delete keys). But ya, music sounds divine on it, and it shuts down and boots up in less than a blink. I am ready to take the trouble of carrying it to and fro the university, so that I can use it for listening to music and watching movies. My own HP laptop is so overloaded with softwares and that God forsaken Norton AV, that it is rather an ordeal to use it for entertainment. Well, you see, I am indeed trying my best to live a normal life, despite the handicaps. I rather pity 'I' [Iniesta look alike is indeed a long phrase, and neither do I like the person's name much, nor do I have any intention of mentioning it here, at least till the time he turns up in my life, so till then let's manage with 'I'], who prefers studying at this age (he's supposedly a year older than me), instead of getting married. Well, it is not so difficult for guys to lead a single life you see, if somehow they can prevent AIDS, everything else is well provided for. Oh, don't I sound like a sex maniac? I am not, trust me, but I am definitely missing male company, that is, company of the male species, who don't treat me like a daughter/sister/employee come maid servant. In short, I need a boyfriend, if not a husband. Yeah, they rape you, and throw acid at you and are quite monstrous, if newspapers are to be believed, still, they are quite indispensable you see...

I leave you with the picture of my new acquisition...after the diamond ring, this is something I feel like showing off :P :D

Things that disturb me...

If I don't do something soon to quell my rising anger about everything that happens in my life that are not up to my liking, I will soon die out of high blood pressure. Kolkata is a place for lazy, irresponsible people, the university more so. And I cannot change that. Period.

I see all types of characters here. The professors who won't see their own mistakes. Smoking in public is an offence by Indian law, but here some other law works. More disturbing is the tendency to accuse people. Like, the other day, I was accused of withholding money that is due to the suppliers. Trust me, I don't have a single project check book in my possession. As for signing on their bills that the hardware has been delivered and software installed, how do I do that if I don't have a dedicated lab for my project (I have been given a hell of a dirty room devoid of an AC or electrical fittings and full of old dusty furniture, an absolutely unnecessary wash basin with a sooty mug inside it - and I am supposed to keep iMac machines there. And you see, this is the state of affairs when the project is supposed to be in its second year). Pat comes the answer. Oh, you can get the machines installed in the unoccupied lab in 1st floor, I have been always telling you that (“always” must have been lost in a time pocket, because I seem to have never heard that). And who is supposed to carry the machines to the 3rd floor once the lab there is ready? Oh didn't you know, project management work here includes free coolie work too. One of the professors even suggested me to employ the folks who are working under me. Hello, I am from IT industry (pity that even she had similar kind of experience once which she has obviously forgotten all about) – we really don’t understand the concept of working “under” or “over”. We work “with” – at least the reasonable people do. And ya, neither are we habituated to people being shouted at, because of not vacating the department sharp at 6 PM and hence causing disruption to “part time work plans” (the support function person who has the keys needs to go out on time to attend to his part time work - which he is not supposed to do in the first place as per university employment rules).

I feel myself to be this incorrigible hypocrite when I agree to give a treat to this very same group. In fact, I have no grudges whatsoever regarding people I haven’t worked with yet, who just happen to be employed at the same department. But I hate to spend my hard earned money on undeserving people. Like I said, I don’t like anyone here except perhaps the lady professor I admire so much. I really have a good mind to tender my resignation and then share this article with her. I hope that she will understand and not criticize me any further. But then, you know what? The weakness lies in me as well. I can’t forgive wrong doings, and at the same time, I can’t forget good deeds either. I remember the day when I had the interview for this job. The very people in the support function who don’t care to do a single work I request them for now, were hovering in the interview room to get to know the result and inform me. The professor who shouted at me to hide his own fault had patted me on the cheek in a most fatherly way, as he informed that I have been selected. The other professor was more desperate than me to get me a job and kept assuring me all the time that even if this doesn't work out, she and her husband (who is a another big shot in the university) would surely get me selected somewhere else. May be the treat is to celebrate those good moments and not these sour ones.

The university senior who has been so helpful so far, seems to be in a strange state of mind. He almost seems to regret bringing me here. He is always telling me that he’s planning to leave this place. But at the same time he’d project this place to the new joinee as if this is heaven, whereas IT industry is hell where you learn nothing and become mechanical. Once again, my conscience didn't allow me to be harsh on him, given the favors he had done me when nobody else cared. Yet, how I wished I could tell him to jump out of the well for once. I am what I am because of 2 things – my school, and my work experience in the two IT MNCs. And I now realize what a oasis like place my school has been, in the midst of this desert like city where nobody cares to be competent. Thank God I went to a school that fully funded itself, I shudder to think what would have happened to me at any school run by the government.

The government. Sigh, and bigger sigh. Where is it all actually going? Of the 100% population in India, may be a mere 5 to 10% are politicians. And they are wrecking havoc in the lives of the rest 90-95% of us. Otherwise how can you explain anarchy to this extent. Particularly in this state of mine, which is soon going to be a mini Nigeria, if not to mention my adage of the Hitler driven Germany. People are being killed just like that, as they are walking on the road or talking over the phone in their own courtyard, or even when they are inside the house. Let’s just not bring up crime against women here, for that would make it look like we are in the prehistoric era, or perhaps that the human race is going the animal way. Criminals are shielded, they are not even charged or arrested, even when high court judges are crying foul play. Not only that, as (smelly) icing on the (rotten) cake, the chief minister shares the stage with these crooks. I think about the crime free cities I have lived in, Singapore, Prague, and just wish that commoners here get a taste of that too. But then, you see, they are terribly non ambitious, and behave like a herd, as in, they are always ready to be driven by the Pied Piper, not bothering to think over his/her actual intents. They are so willing to be part of the mob, and know nothing of the crisis it’d cause when it turns into the proverbial headless monster.

Where is the world going? Why are people not protesting about where the world is going. Why are they so engrossed with their own life? Or rather why don’t they simply have the guts to protest? You know, strange things keep troubling me. Way I am being harassed by Vodafone ever since that first issue I raised about them with Grahak Seva. They won’t apply my plans in time, won’t resolve my issues and instead bring up newer issues – almost as if they are taking revenge. Way, yesterday I bought this Slice bottle which neither had a batch number nor MRP inscribed anywhere on the bottle. Way, I just mentioned to dad about a bag lying under the table of a roadside hawker who was selling small purses – mentioning that it must have fallen down while people were checking out his wares, and as soon as I had spoken, I saw this lady(i.e. if I can call a prospective thief a lady) stop in her track and pick it up with a sly look on her face. Both me and dad obviously understood that she is planning to steal it, but she kept standing there with the bag in her hand, pretending to examine it, as long as we were there. There was no way we could accuse her, given her stand. So we just chose to walk on. These small things pain to an extreme extend – lack of conscience, goodwill and sincerity – as if all good things from the earth are going away. I really wish I could do something about this. Or does the problem lie with me? So many people can so easily turn a blind eye to all these things and continue to live happily...is it because I don't have my own family (by family I mean husband and kids, I guess I belong to my parent's family, that is not the family I own), I don't have any life to speak of, that is why I get all the time to worry about such things? I wish I could get an answer to these doubts.

Interview, more books, a strange dream etc...

It is a different experience altogether, when you are sitting at the other end of the table during an interview. Well, to tell the truth, the candidates that turned up were, in short, dreadful. It was an all girls’ party too, guess we had screwed up things somewhat by mentioning it as a walk in in the advertisement. As a result we didn't send out invite mails or sms-s. That created a bit of confusion, so out of the 5 candidates that turned up, three had to be called by us over the phone. And finally the entire panel was so frustrated that we decided to take one of our own students (this year pass out) on probation for six months. We just couldn't go on anymore with the farce that the discussion was turning out to be. The candidates were dumbness personified – one of them seemed to be mentally challenged too, who is supposedly two years older than me and was talking in a sing song voice – but fact remains that she was able to answer more questions than the normal candidates. Now, I have my own ways to judge abilities. I ask people to write out the algorithm for a tricky program, my favorite being swapping between two variables without using a temporary variable. It is simple mathematical manipulation, and those who are unable to write even that are not fit for a software job. I remember, at one point in time we were so frustrated that the only lady professor in the panel had to exclaim about what has happened to girls in India. The other gentlemen in the panel retorted that nothing serious has happened, given there are two examples of glittering merit in Indian girls in the panel itself (she and me). Well, don’t laugh. This is the best thing about the university environment. As opposed to the appraisal blues, here appreciation is omnipresent.  And, since it was the same panel who had selected me a month earlier, there were random mention of how well I had performed during the interview, and that they are not going to let me go at any cost. You might think this is the ideal condition to bring up a pay hike demand. Yes, the salary does make me yearn about going back to my earlier corporate profile – but then, after everything else, I am at least living a life here. I think of the days I went without a job, and feel, something is definitely better than nothing. And on the other hand, I can almost feel the agony of people still on a job search. That differently able girl came up the next day with some more documents etc. which she couldn't produce during the interview. I felt so heartless to ask her to leave, and as a reason I cited that professors were not available, and she should call up and then come in the future, but still I couldn't bring myself up to say that she has not been selected. The only reason it doesn't weigh on my conscience is the fact that she already has a job, in fact almost everyone who appeared for the interview had jobs (except the students), and that brings about yet another question in my mind – all these hopeless specimen are earning, and I with all my brilliance stood unemployed for more than 5 months? The lady professor had a ready answer for that too – she mentioned in an amused sort of way that I must have been over qualified. If I have grown to like any person in the university wholeheartedly, without a prejudice, it is her. Being in close proximity with a great mind tends to inspire you, and I have almost grown to “heroine worship” her. She is one reason why I don’t feel dismal about this job yet.

These days, I spend entire Saturdays sleeping to my heart’s content. I sleep like a log to finish up my quota for sleeplessness throughout the week. Because you see, the week days are hectic. Not that I have a lot of work, no, but wading through the flooded roads to and from office is an ordeal in itself. And at least for two days a week, I have some or the other trip to be made after office hours. I already wrote here about my visit to my uncle’s place. Friday we went to South City. Had a wonderful time there. Had a Subway sandwich after ages, got pastries and cookies from Kookie Jar, got a shoe for dad from Woodlands (that’s my favorite brand as far as shoes are concerned, but only for the guys in the family – as for me, a Rs 150 street brand will do, thank you), and then, finally, when I had almost made up my mind for exit (though Crossword kept luring me, as the sale there was the primary reason I had zeroed in on the mall), thankfully it started raining. So without much ado I turned to Shopper’s Stop (inside which there is this tiny Crossword outlet), and came out with three more books, two at 25% discount, one at 15% discount (the last one was a Bengali book for dad, called বাংলার স্থাননাম by সুকুমার সেন which talks about how places in Bengal got their names - yes you guessed right, my dad does prefer crazy books like that). For me there was yet another Agatha Christie (the fat ones having 4 stories in one book). And as I sat dozing over the book (as I mentioned earlier, Friday night led to the Saturday routine of sleeping) – I had this sudden realization (at a sentence where a lady was commenting on something “darkly”) that may be JK Rowling is a reincarnation of Agatha Christie???!!! May be that is why I have this extraordinary inclination towards reading anything which they write? I am fond of Jhumpa Lahiri also, as an author. But no, The Lowland is lying in my bookshelf untouched for almost 4 months now. I pine away for the copy of The Unaccustomed Earth that is lying with Boo, not only because it was this hardbound copy which I bought on the first day the book was released, but mostly because of the raw emotions that are smeared on every page of the book, the emotions of a bleeding yet sympathizing heart – that simply shouldn't be allowed to stay with a filthy, mindless monster. But at the same time I amply thank God that I never gave him my Harry Potter books. I’d have died without them. But forget all that, let’s come back to the point (no, no, no…I don’t want my books to stay with that degraded person, I want to kick him in the stomach and retrieve my books)…see, their styles of writing have this uncanny similarity, I mean, Agatha Christie's and JK Rowling's. I could pick up liberal uses of phrases like snivelling, gimlet eyes, trust me, I could even identify phrases like imperious and stupefy. Well, if not a reincarnation, I'd at least say the latter was highly influenced by the former. So, as we proudly came out with our books, the rain had stopped, and we were lucky to get a taxi even, after a little waiting time. But no, that was not end of the story. The taxi decided to break down at the busiest junction possible, on our way home, and soon I found the vehicle pelted by honking - dad and the traffic police together trying their best to move it to some place where it won't block the traffic, the traffic police's boss shouting over the wireless about whether he should send in a crane to move the unresponsive automobile, when the engine again kicked back to life. You see, I am born to enjoy all kind of undesired adventure. Lucky readers of my blog, else what would I talk to you about? :D :D

At times I do feel very contented with this simple homely life. I feel I have had enough, it is time enough to retire. But then the sparks in me won't die down so easily. Try as I might, I can never really settle down for a low lying life. Something or the other would keep happening. You know, the other night, I dreamed that I have lost diamonds from my ring. For some unknown reason, the middle diamond looked almost as big as a solitaire, and hence I found it easily (I was groping under the bed), but the smaller diamonds were more trouble to be discovered (in actuality, all three of them are of similar size, as you can probably make out from the photo in ring a ring o' roses). The curious thing is, long after I was wide awake, I'd feel the dream was true, and nervously glance at my ring finger (ya, I am wearing the ring these days in my ring finger - may be in celebration of my new found love with Mr. Look Alike). And it is not a joke...Argentina is in the semi finals. I can't believe my luck. 

Well may be it is time to bid good bye to such frivolous things. No, I am serious. I really need to write about what I actually feel like right now. I can't side track it anymore. Today it is late enough, may be, tomorrow, once I organize my thoughts. Just wanted to tell, as a parting thought, no, it is not always about myself, I am not that selfish.

The Iniesta look alike...

There is no harm in being a die hard romantic, and even if there was, I guess I still wouldn't be able to help it.  Without further ado, let us begin the story. Well, you remember the cousin I told you about, who went on a tour with wife and daughter, while his dad was in the hospital? Not out of any obligation or some such thing, but I meant to visit the uncle for a while now (he's back at home). Since it has been raining almost everyday, our plan was getting deferred. Today as well, around 3 PM it became as dark as evening and the downpour started. But within an hour rain had apparently stopped, so dad agreed to meet me somewhere near their house. I hastily called a professor in the team to inform that I'd be leaving early, and as expected, he had some work ready for me. But he agreed that I could go home and do it. On I set off, and a colleague here also boarded the same bus. Well, there were couple of seats empty beside me, but he didn't care to come n sit, probably in fear of buying my ticket (poor thing missed out - because I only was planning to buy his ticket - but the conductor approached him first - he bought a single ticket and deliberately looked away, pretending he has never ever seen my face, though just a while back he was all engaged in small talk with me at the bus stop). So, after quite some time (and a lot of traffic jam) I noticed dad waiting in a sort of dry place, which was not waterlogged. He had noticed me and was waving at the bus, while I too rushed to the door. The conductor kept ushering dad..."come sir, come in quickly" thinking he wanted to board the bus. I explained to him that he is not waving to the bus but to me, and got down giving him a smile. The conductor was not at all happy - he had stopped the bus to get another passenger, not to witness this happy reunion of dad n daughter. So we walked down to their house, met three old gentlemen of varying degree of age, and a lady slightly younger than my mom. They were all very happy having this young person among them, and started fussing about, asking about my experiences abroad, which country I liked better, how I prefer spending my time - you know - as if I was this celebrity. Age has hampered their speech, not all their questions were quite clear, but I tried to talk to them as much as possible. My direct relative, the uncle, was quite sick, as I understood from the catheter running from his body, but he looked so serene and smiling that I couldn't help admiring him. Anyone can be happy in good health (though people who have nothing wrong with their health also tend to get depressed), but to have the same mindset with a failing health is the real challenge. I was careful enough not to mention my cousin's tour during our conversation, I was not even sure if he knew.

So, discussion gradually meandered to my marriage, as it usually does in all our visits with relatives. Everyone fails to understand why a girl with my sweetness, education and achievements is not able to get a suitable groom. And then the fun started. They apparently have couple of relatives, who are guys of my age, and they are unmarried. In between dad told them that I am not interested in a guy with a paunch or a balding head. So one of the guys had to be ruled out. The other guy is supposedly from my school, and worked in the same MNC I worked. He was described as this very cool guy, who knows a lot of household work, is very caring and can make people laugh. And to explain how he looks, I was told about this footballer Iniesta who plays for Spain, and the prospective groom is Iniesta with a lot more hair (I guess they meant hair on the head only :P)

So, I come home, take some rest, have a sumptuous dinner of tadka daal and roti, and finally set off to finish my work. And what work man, I had to prepare a list of candidates for tomorrow's interview. I was sent around 16 mails with CVs, of which thankfully 3 turned out to be linked in requests, one without an attachment and another with an application for some other project. Still, the rest 11 had unimaginable variety. From Arts graduate to Doctorate - there were all kinds. I yawned on and was quite bored - but there was reward waiting for me, if I finished the work. So somehow I managed it.

Then the stupid girl looks left and right, stealthily opens an incognito window, and keys in the following google search: Iniesta, Spain, Footballer. The practical person in me (who anyways is always being suppressed) - wanted to bang her head and commit suicide. The dreamer whispers, he's ok na d'bhai? Looks kinda cute. Why man, you were told the guy's full name, his current address, just check the real guy in google. Why go on to check how Iniesta looks? But then how do I explain that I want my dreams to linger a little while. See the real guy, like him, then he's not interested. Story gets over. See him and don't like him, story gets over even quicker. I don't like such stories. I like falling asleep, thinking about someone, who looks like someone else, and I don't have any clue about what he is like in reality, so that I can allow my imagination to spin around him. Seeing the real person would spoil the fun na? May be he's written some stupid comment in FB, or has written wrong English in his profile summary (quite unlikely though if he's from my school - you see, we are taught English in quite a fool proof way)...whatever...but no, I'd rather stick to the Iniesta look alike with his shock of hair (I have made it go curly already, to comply with my best friend's forecast of my husband being fair, short and curly haired). Well, no mention was made of his height, and Iniesta is fair, isn't he? So we seem to be quite on track this time...

For a change, I don't have a proper closing sentence today...I baffle myself, and yet, I love myself so so much, just because I can be this girl even after all that has happened in life. But never mind, I am still this staunch Argentina supporter...and I still adore Messi.