While waiting for bum ke neeche aag lagna...

Post start time: 1:40 am

I have never quite talked much about my every day life here, those mundane days when things follow their boring well-set patterns and nothing is overtly emotional or outburst-y. For me, somehow this blog has always been a place to pour out emotions and sadly normalcy never found a place here. But you know what? Mundane is good. Coz mundane is what makes 99.5% of our lives and we better learn to make peace with it. 

There is a lot happening currently in terms of lifestyle changes in one's life....the kind that sounds an alarm bell once one reaches the quarter-life. In simple terms, the gym happened. A best friend from schooldays and a MICAn senior on the very same day (eerie na!) extolled the virtues of "weight-loss = looking awesome + feeling awesome + getting attention from boyz" so much that one was convinced beyond doubt that thou shalt live without having a life, but thou shalt not miss gymming.

And so has begun 'The 40 Day Challenge'. 40 days and nights of healthy living. 40 days of working out in the gym, having healthy breakfast every morning, eating fruits everyday and only home/self-cooked food for dinner. (Oh God! Please don't let this jinx it...now that I have gone and  announced to the entire world readership of 22.) "Now why 40 days?" you would ask, dear reader..so here it is. The challenge will end with a celebration of much awesomeness (since weight-loss = looking awesome + feeling awesome + getting attention from boyz) along with one's birthday!!

So every day, these days, I walk down my lane for like 40 seconds, proudly carrying 2 bags - one chugging along the laptop and the other -  the gym wear, cross the road and enter the office building (Ok. This statement was sheepishly added to tell the world that I stay 1 min away from office. Which. Is. A. Big. Deal. Ask any Mumbaikar). 

Now office gym gets limited "hunk footfalls". (Actually Hunks: Non-female ratio is pretty bleak in my office - but one tries to work around the situation). But then it was identified that hunk footfalls is a critical success factor in the successful execution of 'The 40 Day Challenge'. One needs this for  constant motiovation and more so in the case when the one's body shows the tendency of shedding not more than 5 gms/day and hence any self-motivation is a goner. So, after a few days of careful data analysis, it was derived that hunk footfalls are highest in the evening hours coupled with excellent timing of good TV shows (one shamefully does not own a TV and has to do by watching cricket matches of critical importance - including the World Cup Final at neighbour's place). After much calculations of the day's work-loads, work hours and gym timings of the said hunks, one tries to strategically coincide one's timings (while appearing to be highly casual about it) just so one can blissfully huff-puff-sweat on the very next treadmill while the said hunks can throw deplorable sighs at ones measly running speeds. Such is life and all that!

Oh btw, 2 new mckinsey guys, consulting a team whose performance was going down the drain (and more so after paying hourly charges to the said guys) are seen frolicking around in my office these days with an air of well - "consultants". Difficult to probably define. But yeah, once you see it..you get it. And what is with their diet coke consumption? As if they have signed a bond while taking up the job - 'Thou shalt replace all body fluids with Diet Coke with immediate effect'.

Any way, on the work front November was Sweet! :D

My brands (my babies actually) did much better than before (2 of them, with all modesty, did brilliantly!) and my team did fabulous. And so here I am staying up late in the night, pretending to work on a ppt for a v. v. imp meeting tomorrow while munching on Kellogg's Special K cornflakes like a chivda (and an expensive one at that!) 

And that is all that has been happening in my life for the past few days. 

Hoping to keep up with 'The 40 Day Challenge' - shall keep updating about it.

And now I shall return to my ppt that's been shouting out for attention since some time as the proverbial 'bum ke neeche aag' finally lag gayi hai.

Post end time: 2:30 am

Sukh bhare din beete re bhaiya...

The much dreaded 'Existential Crisis' has finally made its appearance. It reflects itself in a lot of ways and always ends up messing with my mind; resulting in a chaotic haze that simply refuses to leave. I report to work each morning with nothing but a big 'Huh?' registered in my mind and leave wondering, 'What just happened back there???' The situation at home is not very different either. The state of indecisiveness is depressing to say the least coz I was never the one to sit on the fence, but right now decision-making is scaring the shit out of me.

Yes, I know this sounds gibberish...so let me explain.

• The 'Corporate Slave' crisis: Since childhood, middle class upbringing pretty much nails the idea that education is the only means of achieving 'success' in the real world. The problem is nobody ever spells out the definition of 'success' back then. Worse even is that one is never encouraged to explore his/her meaning of success. So of course, one struggles through the oft-trodden path of 10th-12th-Graduation-MBA only to finally land up in 'a nice job in an MNC'.  And do you know what's the funny part in this whole scenario? Only after going through the ENTIRE ordeal does one realize that 'a nice job in an MNC' was not what I wanted and I would have been perfectly happy with a small piece of land and a tiny cottage in some village with a well and swing in the courtyard with a few cattle  and a dog and my own vegetable garden and some hot coffee brewing on the stove and good book awaiting to be read!!

• The 'Conformist' crisis: A girl of 24 yrs needs be gotten rid off. Of course they put it in milder terms. There is also a subset called 'You-are-a-girl-behave-like-one!' crisis which one finds stupid beyond doubt and won't bother explaining. 

• The 'WTF!' crisis: An episode in the recent past has left me shaken to the core. Having immense confidence in my parents and this strong sense of self belief that one has groomed the parents well (:P) I expressed the desire of getting a tattoo done. Not because its cool (Ok, may be a little) but more-so coz I wanted to experiment and experience something new. The reply seemed like a rude wake-up call for someone who thought her family was quite a progressive one! "Why don't you wait for a few years till you are married and then get one if your husband is fine with it?" :O  No words. No argument but a genuine 'WTF!' can beat this one.

If you think post is one big crib against the 'berehem zaalim duniya', well it's not. If you think this post is about parent-bashing, it's not. If you think this is about lending a voice to the feminist in me, wrong again. Its just my thoughts and a few questions I am grappling to find answers to. Trust me dude...these may be one of the most happening years of my life but they are also the most confusing ones!! Give me back those Board exams and late night cramming!! The' 'Chef vs Doctor' arguments with mom! Or even the "Only 90% PCB? God! I am dooooomed" times and I would gladly swap them with these.

Life as I knew is not the same anymore and something tells me its not getting any simpler. Sigh! 

Pee on demand and other stories...

One fine day, we, the employees of a (recently) profit-making MNC, were informed that the organisation as a part of 'Yes-we-know-you-don't-have-a-life-but-we-care-for-whatever-is-left' initiative would be conducting free Health Check-ups for everyone. There was a tie-up with some fancy corporate hospital where we were supposed to register ourselves for getting poked and probed in all the wrong places...

Now my dad having earned a medical degree ages ago happens to be our family doctor (hardly any choice there) and as it is the case with ghar ki murgi being all daal equivalent, I never actually came to respect this profession with the seriousness it deserves, mostly 'coz my dad always underplayed the seriousness of any medical calamity. Picture this: One fine afternoon you get a call  that your 4 yr old kid has stuffed her nose with chalk and is suffocating. The teacher is worried sick to death and although the school is literally 2 minutes away from home, she (the teacher) is in tears wondering 'der na ho jaaye, kahin der na ho jaaye'. So like any other caring father, my dad asks the teacher to try holding me upside down and let gravity act its way till he reaches the school after attending some 'serious' patients of his. As far as minor things like breathing are considered, well, breathing through mouth is not THAT harmful!! 

Well I reckon that with an attitude like that any complaints of fever/cough/cold/cramps were met with cold stares of  'So? You know where the Crocin is!' as if its hardly respectable to complain about these things. Its only when I suffered from jaundice in 11th std that my dad actually decided to wipe off the dust from his home stethoscope (He has 2 sets - one for his clinic for his 'serious' patients and the other 'hardly-ever-used-still-brand-new-after-25-years' for his dearest family) and actually practised some daactarii. Err...hippocratic ain't it? (all puns intended) 

Anyhoo. After half a dozen reminder mails from the HR and 2 cancelled appointments, my pretty self lands up at this fancy schmancy hospital on an early Friday morning. Starving to death. Why you ask? That silly thing called 'Fasting Blood Sugar'. Its a simple test of one's blood sample for any glucose obviously hoping for its absence/ low amounts. (Correct me if I am wrong. On second thoughts, please don't. Pharmacy degree at stake.) So they strap your hand with bands so the swollen veins come out of hiding. The only problem in my case, the veins are buried under some serious subcutaneous fat! 

Prick! Ouch!! (Strike One). 

Prick! Ow ouch!! (Strike Two)

Prick!! A puddle of blood (Strike Three. Can I kill her???)

All this while the lab technician maintains serenity of a mother with innocence of a child. She even manages to mumble a "Sorry huh! I had to prick thrice. I hope it didn't hurt" Ofcorz not!! I had fun! Why don't we catch up once in a while and do this more often!! Hmmph!     

Next we move on to Room # 2

# Drink like a Fish.

Sadly its plain H20. This one is for the sonography where they like to watch your bloated bladders on a TV-like screen and pass comments at it to make you feel bad. (So much for my beautiful insides!!) So I am on Bottle# 3..already feeling that urge to visit the nearest restroom and a cheerful nurse comes across handing me another bottle! Not in a negotiating mood, I simply bade her with a smile indicating I cant drink any more liquid  without letting some go!! Simple Archimedes principle - displacement of volume!! But no!! She wouldn't budge, she made me drink 5 full bottles and only when I threatened to pee in my pants did she finally bestow her approval with a triumphant look and yelled 'Bladder Full' to the doctor conducting sonography. So much for being discreet :|

Next we move on to Room # 3

# Doctors are men. Men will flirt. Thus, doctors will flirt. Hence, proved.

One tries to indicate that one has office to attend. One indicates that one really needs no consultation. One does not have any medical history worth discussing. And yes, not to forget one's dad is a doctor. But no!! A determined doctor is a determined doctor. He will flirt in English then subtly move on to the common mother tongue and finally crack the lousiest of jokes to make an impression. An impression he did leave with abundant entertainment too ;)

Room # 4

#Gynecology Tests:

'Are you sexually active?' she asked, I laughed in reply. 'Is that a yes or no?' she asked again. 'Sorry, I was thinking of something else' :P Enuff said.

So finally after 4 hours I was done with all the tests. The doc from Room # 3 seemed slightly sad to see me go but the cheerful nurse (the one who yelled 'Bladder Full') was happy to finally let me use the washroom and leave. For once, it felt good to see that the fancy hospital did indeed live upto its name. It was good to see well-paid, happy doctors genuinely concerned about their patients. And lastly it was fun to finally experience being a patient for a day. Heck! I think I will do it more often!! :D 

A turn in the road.

One more bites dust. I fell for the trap and would succumb to the corporate life. Congrats to me! The offer rescued me from an even crazier jamboree called Placement week. You know the one, when we all dress the same, walk the same, talk the same and yet trying to ‘differentiate’ and sell ourselves? So have I finally arrived in life? Shete says I need some ‘self realisation’. My brain registers a big ‘’Huh?!’ but then again the man greets me with a ‘Aye marr na’ instead of ‘Hi!’ So I won’t pay much attention to him.

I need some time and space - may be a trip to Bhutan. But joining date is less than a month away. So here I go, compromising from the word go. The wish-list is made and it sits pinned to my notice board till the pay day. My first one it would be. But the future is dark.

No more bunking classes.
No more leisurely breakfasts.
No more walking it in the middle of classes.
No more late night walks.

I don’t know if I learnt much here. Definitely not much when I was doing the above things. But those were the best of times. A rewind please? Somehow going ahead is going to be painful.