Refusing to grow up

Life is a funny arcade game. You have to cross each stage one by one and you only advance to next stage when all your objectives for the earlier are complete. Some stages have a bonus thrown in while some just take away your collected points. Each stage is exciting and the overall understanding of the game increases with every stage completed.

Starting from childhood to schooling years to college, things have been great. Maybe the game was too easy then. Challenges after that have to be met with a better understanding of life. Its been five years since I got my first job. Maybe I am where I would have wanted to be professionally, but on the personal front, things are not that well planned. I got an insight into that very recently.

Attending a wedding is the perfect time to do some introspection. At a recent party that I was invited to, I got to meet my friends wife and another ones fiancee. They all seem to be very happy and excited about this new wake of life. I did congratulate them for the happiness in their lives, but I don't see myself married and settled any time soon. Everyone keeps asking when am I going to break the news and try to convince me that its time I start looking for a life partner. But I don't find myself at that spot yet. My colleagues in office have tried in vain to get me notice some of the girls there. I agree they are all good looking, but I am not on a lookout for dates, nor do I want a casual girlfriend. I remember telling my friends at work that I would only like to get involved with someone only with the intention of getting married. But that does not make me ready for marriage as yet. 

Am I trying to find love? Maybe. Am I trying hard at it? Maybe not. Am I trying at all? Nope. I think I have commitment issues. Every time someone suggests an alliance I just blow it. Marriages freak me out. There. I said it. Marriages freak me out. Only once had that thought crossed my mind and I was very sure of it then. But not now. I am not an emotional fool anymore.

I am just in a bit of a fix. It is that phase of life where I don't have any reason to hold back but no milestone to reach either. Just that I am unwilling to move out of my comfort zone of being a bachelor. Living life at will, no one to explain anything to, no responsibilities, no pretentious relationships, no strings attached. It takes a lot to be able to think of someone else first. Thinking about that significant other and making your whole life revolve around that person, takes an above average understanding of how to make relationships work.

And this is where I refuse to grow up. Someone once told me, that its no use acting all matured when you could still buy some time and enjoy life. Take life as it comes and don't even think about getting married until you are thirty. Well at twenty six, I might be taking the advice bit too seriously. Just lingering about at this level of the arcade game trying to fetch more points until the door for the next level opens. Maybe I am overlooking the fact that all the points there were to score are already in the pot. Its just a matter of time when the level will advance to the next, taking the game to new heights with new challenges to face and new objectives to score. 

But somewhere in my mind the resistance continues. Grow up I should, but refuse I will, for as long as possible.

My reminiscent diary

I was cleaning my bookshelf the other day. The pile was just building up, begging me for a much pending clean up. As I started with dusting the shelves and removing the books, I reached to the farthest end and caught hold of something. Something I had kept there long back, well hidden from view. It was my personal diary.

Well, I started writing this diary when once I woke up in the middle of the night fearing that one day I might loose all the cherished memories of life unless I found a way to preserve them. I made it a habit to write the diary and it was my prized possession. I wrote a lot. A lot about childhood, friends, school, everything I was lucky enough to have. Episodes gradually moved to graduating from engineering to taking up the first job. Many names made their way into the diary. Names that meant the world to me. This was one place I could visit at will and relive all the good times I had experienced.

No sooner, one name started frequenting much more than others. Soon I was filling out pages, writing about how I met her, how I felt about her, things I liked about her. In more pages to follow, no names of my friends got a mention, no incidences about work made their way into the diary. It was just me and her. I was in love and the diary was my rendezvous with her. It was here that I had written many things even before telling her in person.

It had everything. The first poem I wrote for her, followed by many others over the time. Vivid memories of my first date with her. My anticipations, my inhibitions, my confrontations. Everything. I found it easy to write down the stuff to clear the clutter from my mind. I was thinking too much and too far. Could I help it? No. Did I like it? Yes.

And then one day, the writing just stopped. Last few pages being a painful saga of things not fallen into place. I found solace in writing it down. Trying to analyse what went wrong. Few questions were left unanswered. I let them be. Simply accepted the fact and moved on. Thinking that it would be as easy as it sounded. The writing stopped abruptly, never to be resumed again.

It was reminiscent of a many things as I laid my hands on that diary after so many years. I took the effort to read through it. Knowing it would be a mistake to do so, I still skimmed through. As I read through to the last page, I could see how things have changed over the years. The very first thing I realised was about the poems. Poetic talent sincerely eludes me now. I just don't get the meaning. Could I have been that "poetic" then? I read about things that I'd rarely do now. Could I have been that hopeless a romantic? I could not believe it was me writing these things few years back. 'Creativity is at its zenith when in love'. If what I read in an article long back were true then surely this diary was my creative best. All for someone who held a special place in my heart then. 

I cannot relate with anything of the sort now. All the creativity and emotions disappeared the day I stopped writing that diary. I swore never to write in it again. Things have changed. Hopefully for good. I don't long to go back to being how I was a few years back. Nor does it hurt not to have lived and fulfilled the things I wanted to do then.

A unfulfilled love, an incomplete diary, frail traces of a creative me...maybe these are some things I can live with. It just does not matter anymore. As for the said person in the diary, I hope she will be happy with whichever path she chooses to move on.

Time to put the diary back in its place. Have some cleaning to do.

The Cam Chronicles

I would wait here till the right person came to take me home and care for me. That's was all I kept saying to myself as I perched high on the shelf of the camera shop.... Oh, so you don't want to hear me out! I thought this blog was some place, I could speak my heart out and tell someone how things have come to happen in my life. I am sure you would want to hear me out. Do read ahead...

I am a sleek, 3rd generation semi SLR camera. I boast of most awe-inspiring features and capabilities. Check out my zoom and various presets. Am sure I make the other lesser compacts burn with envy. Ever since we made it out of the factory, proving our worth to their quality department, my friends have been selling like hot cakes. As each one starts his own journey to be the best to capture this world onto the 8 million pixels we have, I am a bit cautious on enduring onto the journey. I would want to be taken home by someone who is as passionate about photography as I am. Together we could capture some of the best sights this world had to offer. I won't mind being in the kitty of a gadget geek, as long as he takes me out the first, to flaunt in front of his friends. That's the status and attention I want to enjoy. And so I keep a watchful eye on every customer who comes into the shop and demands for someone like me. I just look at him from head to toe and if I know that it just wont click, I try to hide behind others or even nudge my unaware neighbour to be caught hold of by the shopkeeper. I know its cruel but I want to be spared the agony. I cant imagine my life with someone who would not care for me.

That morning I was still asleep I guess. Still living the dream I had last night. Making it to the pedestal with my owner to grab the most prestigious photography award in the world. Well, that was still a distant vision but somehow I knew it that I would make it one day. There was already someone at the counter. Seemed like a spoilt kid throwing tantrums for an expensive toy. His dad offered him to buy another camera so that he could first learn something about photography and then go on to buy more expensive ones. Sound advice, I thought, but the kid wouldn't budge. The father finally gave in and offered to pay by check. I thought I missed whom they were talking about and was still thinking who would that unfortunate fellow be to be owned by such a dorky kid when the shopkeeper reached out and grabbed me by the box. NOOOoooo.... This cant be. Of all the cameras in the shop, he had to pick me! My heart sank, I knew my life was ruined.

Though I was taken to rich family living in a lavish house, that kid was my worst nightmare. All he wanted to do was shoot aimlessly and then delete the snaps. He didn't was a clue as to what photography was and what care should be taken of the equipment. Soon I started running out of batteries as he never bothered to charge them, the lens was messed with his finger impressions. Cant you wash you hands after munching on a chocolate and then care to touch me! Life was hell. Completely unexpected and I seemed to be stuck here. I did not know how long I could take it. I was on verge of pushing myself off the shelf and fall to the floor. Break myself into pieces to put an end to this misery. I knew that would be such a waste of this life, but what good was it anyway.

Just then a girl came into the room. First thing she did, was look at me. I gleamed back. Boy, she was delighted to see my shiny case. Wish the lens were clean enough, I could have swept her away with my sparkle. She was the prettiest girl I had ever seen and unknowingly stretched my arms out begging to be picked up. Pick me up, she did. Wow, what soft hands and such a gentle grip! By the way she looked at me and examined my features, I was sure she knew much more about cameras than the dork who bought me. She gently blew the dust from my lenses and cleaned them with a soft cloth. She kissed me as if I were her priced find, only for hers to keep. I will never forget that tingling sensation. All I hoped was that she did not catch me blushing. That would have been a disaster. Suddenly someone called from the hallway. She panicked, put me back on the shelf and ran in the direction of the voice. I shouted out, "Please don't leave me", but the cry never reached her.

What was happening to me? Why did I feel that way? Why beg to be picked up and caressed and kissed? As I battled these tricky emotions, I also feared that I might never see her again. What if that really happened!?

Nothing eventful happened for a couple days. I was still thinking of her that day, when I heard raised voices from across the room. The dork who bought me was a real spoilt brat and this time his pranks had crossed the limits. From what I could understand, he somehow broke the girl's camera. She was very upset about it and cried and complained and sighed that the damage was beyond repair. The only fair thing to do, was buy her a new one. From the voice it seemed that she was the one I had been praying to meet for past few days, but when I heard what she said, my heart sank. "No. Don't buy a new one. Take me instead", I would be happy to switch places and let the dork grieve with a broken camera with him.

Somehow my prayers were answered. His mother grounded him and made him pay for his mistakes by forfeiting me. He apologized and gave me to the girl. That put a smile on her face. I will never forget that smile. I secretly clicked and saved that pretty sight in my heart forever.

Happy to have me, she went back to her chirpy self and started clicking at the flowers and birds in the backyard. She was certainly a prodigy and I saw myself being put to the best of my abilities. I always made sure that the pictures I clicked made her smile and feel proud. I was all that she had been looking for and for me the quest for the best was over. I would stay with her forever.

I had that dream again the other morning. Only this time, the girl was walking towards the stage to hold the award. We had done it. While I was still lost in the dream, she picked me up and started out before daybreak to click at the morning beauty. As I geared up for the day ahead, I knew ours was a perfect team. She knew it too.

After that she and I clicked happily ever after.

The Appraisal Aftermath

Once a year every employee has to go through the appraisal process. Double the woes if its a bi-annual one. Its the time when you are told how good you could have been but how bad you really are. Urged to work on the weaknesses but never suitable rewarded for the strengths. Also thrown in are the typical mumbo jumbo of being proactive and taking the initiative and you come out of the appraisal meeting just as clueless as you were when you went in. Although words like faith, expectations and morale have lost their meanings in the transit.

Till date almost all my managers have told me to be more proactive and take initiative. Well I do understand the words coming out of your mouth but what the hell do they mean? A senior colleague was kind enough to throw some light on the matter. After a mind numbing explanation, I thought I understood it well. But I was just fooling myself.

He was very good at it though. Always setting up important meetings , sending out invites to all, reminding them about the agenda, making quick gestures to run to the meeting room where the meeting started in five. I happened to attend one such meeting and never before had I seen anyone so tongue-tied in a discussion. So what were the invites and reminders and gestures all about? Only pep talk to prove the point, I presume. Hoping that the initiatives taken were noticed by someone, although no good ever came of it.

There was another proactive freak in my earlier company. Always ready with possible scenarios and solutions and nag everyone with anecdotal narration of how some of the proactive things done earlier paid off well. The boss just thinks of something that should be done and he is ready with it. A client needs to be sent some critical information which had come to light in recent discussion, but Mr. Proactive has already sent a mail the day before. My question is, if you are so good at peeking into the future and be ready with what your boss wants before he wants it, where the hell are you hiding your crystal ball in this office? Is it under your desk? Clearly you are too smart to work under someone like that. In fact, that someone should get demoted in the next appraisal.

Here's a thought. When I last went to such a meeting, it by no means was lesser than a war zone, where I was fighting it out, armed with client appreciation letters and thank you mails from onsite coordinators and the manager, aka "the enemy for the hour", just undermined the efforts by hurling grenades, with "proactive" and "initiative" written all over them, that gave away my position and I surrendered to be taken as a prisoner of war and made to work without tiring or complaining or taking leaves, destined to survive another year on same, if not a poorly appraised, salary. That these terms do have any comprehendible or implementable meanings or are just some pseudo jargon to boost an employee's sinking morale remains to be seen. There is no known record that generous use of such mumbo jumbo has actually boosted someones morale. I think of them more like prototypes of concept vehicles in an auto show. Awe inspiring but almost impossible to bring to the masses. Forget the masses, did the priest even practice what he just preached. There was no initiative to promote me nor was there any proactive move to help the management notice me! I stay put, doing my work which goes on as usual. It is better off without the impetus that the deceptive jargon intends to make.

What would such highly initiated proactive people , if at all they aren't a myth, say about themselves the day they start putting the '-tives' to use. Would it be like, "I took the initiative to be proactive everyday" or  maybe something like "I want to be proactive in taking this initiative" or maybe even attract severe criticism like "His proactiveness killed the initiative". I really don't know what to say. 

I have my appraisals coming soon. Maybe its time to be proactive and take the initiative to find better avenues.

A Breakfast To Die For

I glanced at the wall clock. It was almost nine and on a Sunday, this was my favorite time. Breakfast time! One quick look into the kitchen assured me that I had my favorite stuff on the menu. Pancakes, bread toasts with jam and butter and eggs. I just loved it and now all I had to do was wait for it to be served.

As I waited for someone from the kitchen to bring out the breakfast, I saw grandpa walk into the room and settle on his rocking chair eagerly reading the newspaper. Whats he reading by the way! At least do away with the politics and current affairs. Its Sunday for god's sake! Check the sports section please!!

Enter Chinu. He is the youngest member of the house. A very lovable kid and doesn't mind me sharing his food. Nor does anyone else in the family. That's why I love these guys so much. I can have all that I like and no one complains except for occasional stern wave of hand to keep me from taking more than I need.

I hear a voice from the kitchen "Breakfast's ready". Oh yea! So am I. Bring it on. I am starving already. Soon all gathered at the table with Chinu on my right and parents taking the opposite seats. Grandpa was still rocking on his chair. He would join later, I guessed and started with the first dish set on the table. Pardon my manners, but that's just me. I wasn't going to wait for others to settle down, take pancake and eggs in their plates and eat as if they had all the time in the world. I went straight for the dishes on the table. The breakfast was truly heaven like with all the best things in the world served out to me.

While I was busy with the food, I did not notice grandpa join us at the table, and went for the pancake kept for him. That must have annoyed him. He waved at me and I steered clear. Why mess with him on such a lovely day? The breakfast carried on for a while with all the jokes and laughter. Sunday mornings were really great with family. While I was still busy making more rounds for my favorite stuff, I just happened to look at grandpa from the corner of my eye. He had been following my movements very closely and before I could make out what was on his mind, he swung out the fly-swatter and splat! Leaving no time to stretch my wings and buzz off to safety, he slammed down a hard blow onto me. Escape was near impossible.

"Nasty insect" were the last words I heard. While grandpa must have been proud of his reflexes, I had paid my price to taste, what I would call, lets just say, a breakfast to die for!