I need to be paid more, because I put up with Mr. Grumpy

I have dealt with a lot of weirdos in my long life of 28 years. And most of them in my short working career of last 4 years. But then there are some people who clearly drive you to the brink of your patience.

So this colleague of mine thinks he is God's gift to mankind and the whole world is out there to make his life miserable. Here's what I want to tell him and yet, being the nice guy that I am (*sniggers*), can't, so I am venting it all out on my blog instead:

*You can't complain about 'work-life balance' when you come late to office, leave early, and play the whole day on your iPad. I mean have you ever looked at people around you and realized that each of us is slogging our asses off, while you sit on your over-sized bottom doing nothing whole day?

*Has there ever been a day when you have come to office and said, 'Wow, what a beautiful day! I am feeling hale and hearty'? I am amazed at the amount of creativity that goes into coming up with ailments such as 'involuntary spasms at the back of my upper arm' - use some of that on work-related things and I may actually like you.

*Are you really that gullible that everyone around you wants to cheat you and you have to have heated telephone conversations with them, demanding compensation, reversals, alleging mental harassment, wanting to speak to seniors of call center employees and what not. And all of this while you are in office. I mean why is that everyone from mobile operator, to credit card company, to doodhwala, to kaamwali bai, to insurance company, to retail chains, to local kirana store, wants to defraud you - within a span of a few hours, and this goes on in a loop?

*If you are walking with me on a crowded pavement, and people nudge past you, you cannot screech like a schoolgirl. No you can't.

*If you do decide to come with me for client meetings, don't expect me to ferry you around in cool-cabs. And if I have managed to cajole you into one of those yellow taxis, don't crib about heat and pollution. I have enough worries in my life that to tend to a 35 years old baby which throws tantrums every other minute.

I have a tough life at work. But then, I sometimes think, wouldn't life at work be boring if I didn't have people like you around.. 

Growing vegetables is no fun!

Being the workaholic (the milder breed) that I am, I never enjoyed taking days off from work. I mean unless it is something as life changing as getting married or when I am really really sick, I have actually never taken off at all. I did take some leave when I had to go holidaying down south, but that was like once in my working career of four years!


And imagine me being put on two months of paid leave! Those of you yelling 'Yay, that's awesome', drop dead already. I just don't know what to do with all this time. Agree that there have been times when I had wished for some more leisure & pleasure in my life, but this is total overdose boss.

Yeah, planning that short trip to the hills in July. And yeah, did pay some more attention to my blog of late. There have been suggestions galore (and my reactions to them pretty varied)
- Do what you enjoy the most (*evil grin and then a mild sigh*)
- Koi short term course kar le (sari zindagi padhta hi rahoon kya be!)
- Use this time well (and how? tell me *with a gun on your head*)
- Beta come to meet us - your relatives in other end of the world (If I really wanted to do that, don't you think I would done it already?)
- Help your dad in his business (I will be more of a nuisance than help - he would throw me out of not only his shop, but also the house)

All that I have been actually doing is lazying around the house, watching saas-bahu serials (blog to come soon), sulking in general, and getting bored. I have already scanned the Facebook profiles of all my friends for gossip, called up random friends (even the ones I don't like) and chatted with them for hours, fought with wifey on silly things which I otherwise wouldn't have cared about, put on a few kilos of weight around my tummy (isshhh), pestered friends who are in Calcutta to meet me (so much so - they have started declining my invitations!), ate too much and then took medicines for stomach infection.

Life was never less exciting. You wouldn't agree with me. But then, you wouldn't know.

PS: Those of you, who are not aware, and thus missing the context - I am changing jobs and have been put on 'gardening' leave for 2 months by my old organization. Too much fun, no?

Khooni Kabristan ki Jung - Sequel

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any living soul could be because the author has a twisted mind. However, those should not be taken seriously at all *wink*

YogiMan was happy. He was with his family, diligently working on assignments given to him at work, and at peace with himself. Little did he know!

He made only one mistake. He aspired to grow from the post of an apprentice to that of the leader of another guild. And that didn't go down well with the leaders of his current guild.

There were rumours that they had learnt their stuff from the Black Widow and Loki. They were scary, control-freaks and gossip-hungry.

And they wanted to hit YogiMan where it would hurt the most - his pride! An assembly of the guild was called. And the apothecary blamed YogiMan for imaginary delays and 'gaps'. YogiMan was told that he wasn't an 'able' apprentice anymore - in fact, never had been. He was made to share his trade secrets with another apprentice. And they wanted to banish him from the guild. But, hang on, didn't YogiMan want to leave the guild anyway, and join another guild? There was a smile on YogiMan's face. And the one on his detractors' face vanished. At times, even the thought of the Sword of Gryffindor works!

Middle Finger. And graceful exit.

PS: The original Khooni Kabristan ki Jung can be found here.

I hate you and why

As my wife constantly reminds me, I spend more than half of my day in office, and the other half mostly sleeping. For the time being let's ignore why she painstakingly points this out to me so often - that can be fodder for another blog. Here, I shall talk about the time I spend in office, and the items people I meet there everyday.

In office, I am this sweet little hardworking soul, whose only aim in life is to spread happiness all around. But that is not how others think and behave. This is what they think and do:

You want me to work as well? - He is plain lazy. And he gets away with it too. If you are looking to dodge work, you can learn a trick or two from him, like staring thoughtfully at the computer screen for minutes altogether (doesn't matter what you are staring at), running around the floor talking on the mobile in urgent whispers, give a disgusting look to anyone who offers you work (this one actually works!), tell everyone how you are doing everyone else's work etc.

I am God's gift to himself. Bow to me already - He is always full of stories, about himself and his spectacular achievements. He would tell you how his boss adores him, how his clients drool all over him, how he won the national golf tournament and how he manages to have affairs with all the hot women in office without his wife knowing.

At home I dress like Lady Gaga. At office, I am just myself - She would shove her cleavage in your face at the slightest opportunity. Many mighty men have fallen for her sense of clothing. And things just get better with time.

My hair fall is not the only problem I have in life - She is the cry baby in office. Give her work and she would tell you about how her husband threatened to divorce her because she returned home late. Point out mistakes in her work, and she would tell you how her son doesn't even remember her face because she is always at work. She would make you look like the monster, for all the problems in her life.

I like to Bully. Deal with it - He marks your boss on all emails, and all of them are nasty to begin with. He would give you work that's not yours and then make you do it by throwing hazaar tantrums. He is a man on a mission: to show the world that he can fuck everyone's happiness. Everyone's. And his constipation-induced actions would irritate you to no end.

Do this for me. Don't tell anyone. I am not stealing your thunder, no I'm not - The quintessential credit-snatcher. And without doing any work at all. This variety lurks in the corner, quietly taking in all that you are doing. And the moment something shout-worthy comes up - zing tang bang - it's his before you can blink. He would also come to you often, seeking 'help'. And then conveniently forget to tell people that you did the work and not him.

Everyone (apart me from me, of course) deserves to be sacked - He would keep on cribbing about how everyone in office doesn't work and they should be sacked. For people who work, he would tell you that they don't work enough and don't do it right.

Abe Bh**ch** - He likes to abuse. In every sentence. You got a problem, sissy boi?

PS: Please feel free to replace 'He' or 'She' with each other wherever you like. And don't be disappointed if I have missed out 'You'. I am planning a sequel. Yay!

Happy Ending

You know when they say that Happy Endings happen only in movies... now I wouldn't say that they are totally wrong. But then often, once in a while, just as if God forgot to throw in that random twist of fate, you do end up being happy in the end. And though it is not really the end, but merely a halt, such happy endings are what we all live for.


So yeah I am happy. But then it is not in my nature to feel good and talk good about others. So I shall crib as usual. I just wanted you guys to know .. you know just in case you guys feel that my cribbing lacks quality today, that's only because I'm happy!

So yeah I have been going through a lot of turmoil these days. And it doesn't help when each and every person you meet on the road / office / train / at the chaiwala's / facebook / Gtalk asks you the same question- 'Weren't you supposed to be in Calcutta already?'

Yes, I was supposed to have fled from this godforsaken city long back. In fact, I shouldn't have come here at all in the first place and taken jobs that promise to suck the last drop of blood outta my body. But then since I did come and now have monsters around me who wanna make my life miserable, all I can do is patiently wait. At least now I know that it's just another two weeks of pain.

So yeah, there, yes you, the moron looking at me from across the road - just know that I will be in Calcutta soon. Very soon. And that should wipe that smirk off your face!

Khooni Kabristan ki Jung

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any living soul could be because the author has a twisted mind. However, those should not be taken seriously at all *wink*

YogiMan looked around into the eerie silence. This was his only chance - to escape from the Khooni Kabristan - where he had been kept captive for the last two years by Takla Shaitan - the most dangerous of all evil wizards, the only one who had learnt the art of necromancy from the Lich King himself.


Today, Takla Shaitan was busy partying in the beaches of Pattaya, and YogiMan was making plans for his escape. The only obstacle now was Zingalo - Takla Shaitan's trusted servant and the gatekeeper to the Kabristan. He was slimy, evil and crafty, with a fetish for weird smells. But YogiMan knew Zingalo's pulse - his mortal fear of cats. And that's what will help him escape today. YogiMan had already sent SOS messages to Puss In Boots and Dobby the House-Elf. They would have already taken care of Zingalo. Now all YogiMan had to do was sneak out.


He ran towards the big mettallic gates. Suddenly there was huge roar and darkness all over. And a manic laughter. "Buddy, you thought you will escape? I can easily get another prey but this is wrong timing" - Takla Shaitan's massive head loomed over him. YogiMan felt as if his knees will crumble. But then he remembered.

The Sword of Gryffindor presents itself to any worthy Gryffindor in time of need. He closed his eyes. And felt the sword's hilt in his hands. He slashed at Takla Shaitan.

And Suddenly there was light. YogiMan could see his home. He was running towards his family and there was happiness all around.

End of Story

And I am going back to Calcutta! :)

Bechu babu?

A group of CA aspirants sit in a tutorial deeply engrossed in solving complex accounting problems. Their tuition Sir intermittently cracks witty one-liners that lead to loud guffaws and hoots from the entire bunch.

Have you ever seen geeks laughing? They take even laughing pretty seriously.

Then, the Sir asks the class - 'Do you think there is any other profession which requires such skill and sharpness of the mind?'
Not knowing that this was a rhetorical question, one poor soul replies, 'Umm.. MBA?'
'Aha' Sir exclaims and the whole class jumps. 'Bechu Babu banoge? Tie lagakar sabun bechoge?' (Do you wanna become a 'Bechu Babu'? Wear a tie and sell soaps?)

Years later, I have understood the irony in those words. Yes, I was part of that geeky gang of students. And today I wear a tie and sell, well.. not soap, but banking products.

Everything you hear (and laugh) about a Sales Job is actually frigging true - evil bosses, ungodly targets, wicked clients, sad life.. and the fact that you start hating your job from day one.

You do a good deal, your boss takes the credit. Your boss fucks up bigtime, you face the shit. You meet your targets and are told you should have exceeded expectations. The Hot Chic gets accolades for merely existing. One more Hot Chic joins office, your workload doubles. And Boss seems happier than usual.

Look pretty, talk smooth, lick asses of everyone around you, keep brain dead for most of the times, and use it only to contrive new wicked ways of projecting what a brilliant salesman you are.

But then once you are in Sales (and did not have the sense to run away within a month of joining the job), you will realize that you crippled for life and are now good-for-nothing-else. You cannot do a desk-job anymore (too boring!), you cannot do anything intellectual (Umm.. what?), your only hope is to reach a level where you can start giving shit instead of taking it. It isn't tough if you have the talent, or if you are a hot chic (refer above).

But what's with all the glory then?

I will conclude with one of the shadiest jokes I have ever heard. It goes something like this:

When the judge asked the plaintiff, "My dear lady, why did you do nothing when the defendant raped you again and again over several days? Do you think you could have done something about it - told someone, raised an alarm?", the young lady giggled nervously and whispered "Yes - But I was enjoying it".

The Return of Randomness

* I don't think I told you guys about my amazing new laptop. Yes, the old laptop simply crashed. The keypad had stopped working a long time back - now the hard disk too called it quits. The new lappy has a cam as well - I video-chatted for the first time in my life! Yes, being technologically-backward ensures that you get these weird kicks out of things others would call pretty ordinary.

* Work at office is getting more excrutiating by the hour. Yes, yes, we all hate our work but can one really hate his work as much as I do? To add to my woes, many among my office junta have started reading my blog - so I can't even write nasty stuff about work anymore.

* Once in a while, something will happen that will make you regret missing out on some very important event or action in life. Watching Dabangg was one such moment. It made me regret how I never could learn to bajao a shrill ceeti in childhood. Dabangg had many such scenes where normal mortals would errupt in an euphoria of ceetis and cat-calls. But I forget that multiplex-going-sophisticated-Mumbaikars aren't so mortal as Malancha-cinema-going-Calcutta-based-kanjoos-Marus. Btw, read Greatbong's awesome review here.

* Throwing caution to the air, I must tell you all about how my colleague noticed that someone from senior management at work doesn't fit into his chair anymore. She also demonstrated how parts of his body hang precariously over the sides of the chair - and how the chair makes squeaking noices every time he sits on it as if crying for mercy. We suspect that the chair is secretly replaced every night as it is not possible for any chair to sustain all the weight for two days in a row.

* TV serials are my new-found-love. This certainly deserves a blog on its own. Will come up with something soon.

Tu bhi Disco, Main bhi Disco

Ok, so the off-site happened (they call it the Business Meet), and it wasn't all that bad. For three days, we were parceled to this luxury hotel in Goa where we had marathon presentations (which were boring to the point that you almost strangle yourself), team activities (read 'physical torture'), and random conversations with bosses where you are repeatedly reminded how fortunate you are to be part of this elite gang! However, to redeem it somewhat, met so many new people, gulped gallons of free daaru, and treated myself to the luxuries that such a hotel could offer (err... only the free ones!).

I shall not forget:

* how the DJ was playing my favouritest songs like I am a Disco Dancer, 1-2-3, Jumma Chumma and many more. 

* how, after maroing three Long-Islands and a couple of shots (I could barely stand), I realized that I will be called on to the stage for receiving an award (They obviously couldn't let me know earlier!) And then you have kamine friends who suggest that you have another shot to soothe nerves. I didn't trip and fall, I didn't do anything stupid either - but people complained that I was dead serious when receiving the award!

 * how I ran for my life after seeing my naked boss coming out of the sauna (accidentally, instead of entering the showers, I came out of the wrong door into the corridor. And I was wearing only a towel!)

* how we had a fight with the irritating  lifeguard at the beach - who gave us fake excuses like "there are snakes in the sea" to send us away after nightfall.

* how I couldn't sleep at night (even after being completely drunk) because my room-mate was snoring loud enough to wake up Kumbhakarna. 

* how, during the physical activity session, a Bong from Calcutta and a Sardar from Delhi broke into a fight. Watching the show from the sidelines was pure bliss.

* how there were hot, skimpily-clad, firang chics on the dance floor. But, as a poor desperate soul from Chennai got to know the hard way, they were reserved only for senior management.