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8/6/2019 New Entry of Blog
http://slidepdf.com/reader/full/new-entry-of-blog 1/1
Welcome to the first day of the rest of my life
2. Listen to rohit pandey get worked up over some point in some process of the company while arguing
about some idea that no one really gives a damn about. The world could end this minute and I’d be
sitting at my desk, trying to catch up my backlog in design, or acting as though I care about some guy
not moving to implement my idea.
3. Day progresses geometrically, heat rises exponentially. More depressed. Million things in mind. Job
in jeopardy, girl frnd hates me coz she got thrown out of house over me. Mom still remembers me asthe school topper. So much potential rotten away. Taste of Himalayas, life, lingers on my tongue like
the bouquet of a priceless vintage. I hold on to this psychedelic anchor in this maelstrom of madness. I
had a taste of what life should be, and instead of getting exited about getting there, I am depressed at
the thought that I might never get there.
4. Towards the end of the day, storm clouds roll in, trees with branches it’d take 10 men to shift, dance
lithely in the wind. The sky turns red, then orange then ochre. Like a refrain sifting down from the hills,
in some remote corner of my brain I am listening to the rolling stones’ gimme shelter wafting through
the air. I get up, walk out in the rain, ride home, eat , come to my room screaming whoooooooo at the
top of my lungs, as I plug in my speakers and the melody finally mingles with the pitter patter of rain. I
finally feel as if all is well with the world. And that everything is gonna be okay.
WELCOME TO THE FIRST DAY OF THE REST OF MY LIFE.
“If you, have an ounce of decency, and don’t want my blood on you hands; for the love of God, give
me a plan today. I have high blood pressure because of you. I haven’t seen anyone as insensitive, or
incompetent as you in my 30 years of service. You! An engineer, and a GET at that!! GET!! The cream
of our company!!”
My vest sticks to my back, and my briefs are clinging to my nether regions with a tenacity that’d put
the most ardent of lovers to shame. This after a 3.5 minute ride to the office from my hostel, at eight in
the morning. As my sweat cools without evaporating, I sit and listen to my boss rant, telling me how
worthless I am, and how I should have ceased to exist out of the sheer weight of shame I should have
felt at my callous attitude towards my job if I were a decent human being. And he’s right. I am not a
decent human being by any standards, but we will get to that later.
In the background, the central air conditioning drones on, fighting a losing battle against the merciless
sun beating down on us through the huge glass windows, whose tint does nothing to abate its intense
glare. I am sitting in a badly designed office, full of mechanical design engineers. Talk about irony. It’s
the height of a hot and humid summer in Jamshedpur. Welcome to the first day of the rest of my life.
I sit in my dreary office, with its depressing faded cream colour décor, take in the dreary day outside,
and get on with my dreary job, dragging one of the fifty seven separate projects long overdue and lying
on my desk. There’s a problem, I don’t know how to solve it, and the people I work with are
incredulous at the revelation that an engineer doesn’t know such a simple thing. They think I jest, so I
do what I always do: shift things one by one to one corner, then shift them one by one to the other until
my boss comes to ask what happened to such and such project and I stare at him blankly till he goes
away. The time is nine thirty, I have to be present at this fair organised to generate ideas from the
workers. Its part of the work I do for another department. I work for two departments. I am that useless.
My work as a design engineer has stagnated to a dead end, I know nothing of engineering or design.
The other department I report to is PRIDE, its supposed to motivate our workers and managers by
making them think the company values their opinions and ideas to make the workplace a better place
for them. What a load of crap, the only thing a company values is profit and saving its own hide. You
mess with that, and you’re history.
My reporting boss in this other department is a spare, neat, God fearing Catholic who hasn’t listened to
Hotel California because someone in the church told him it mocks the Bible. I don’t believe in God
anymore, but he doesn’t know that, so we get along well, for now. So, I go to this fair, watch the empty
shells of carbon compound that pass off as life in this place file in, gloat to each other about some
insignificant micro political victory they had at the office, sit down and give their valuable ideas for the
betterment of our esteemed organisation.