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.
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