A Joke called Job

At my Workplace: I feel like Greta: Angry, mysterious, activist and a time traveler

‘It was the best of times, It was the worst of times’ said Dickens in not so recent history .As I step outside my black bold archaic gate into this vociferous vulnerable vile environment. Everyday is a battle, yet my longing heart hopelessly searches for another novel breeze but all I see is gloomy glorified mask covered caricatures. I feel I am playing a video game just this time, Mario in me ain’t that brave as the Nintendo one nor I can jump in those crazy clergy bounds.

I watch Lala as he gives a wry smile from his half covered napkin turned mask. Then as I approach a recently converted Covid hospital on my way, an uninterested watchman reads inevitably depressing news on his borrowed brown paper. Yet, he felt content to be alive.May be, we all are. Even this girl who just went past me in her Hercules cycle wearing a designer dock mask. Strange times calls for better luck but I usually get any as I stumble upon 67 years old wrinkle faced uncle on my way to battleground.
“Hello, Uncle”, I greet him in not so spontaneous manner
“Can you give this medical bill in office” he asks in not that polite demeanor.

Then,without giving any clear warnings,he went about complaining on how he doesnt approve of his son’s second marriage and how he cannot afford to waste a rupee on taking printouts.I listened with patience and at the same time prayed in silence that my bus driver shows up his schumacher skills and reaches my place in no time.Time is such a funny thing yet extremely painful at times.I looked at that tame figure and wondered what life he must have lived.

They say “real character of a man is determined by how he behaves with older people”, but trust me or just face him. It hasn’t been easy at all and he usually meets me at this time to narrate his usual adventures of saving every penny and straightening up his gangster son.

Beeep,Beeep.Oh that sound felt like symphony to my ears.My Bold Bus driver Rajkumar,arrived 2 minuted early today.I greet him with a sense of relief on my face like a prisoner who has been released on bail for a crime he has no clue of.

As I make another unsuccessful attempt to take a peaceful nap,I hear a not so poignant apoetic voice reverberating in my soul.Do employees don’t understand public behavior,the man behind seems to have lost his last cell of sanity and is mindlessly breaking my head with his virgin vain voice.

He seems to be throwing barrage of not so beautiful words to an unlucky one on the other side.I can’t even say anything to Bapu.

I remember old times,when I tried to bring some sense to his madness,he almost ran a bus over and then threatened with a stick.But still as Brutus says,Bapu ji is an honorable man and I,an ignorant fool.

After surviving his bullets of words,I managed to find some solace in my playlist.

I inevitably reached the gate of Fortune unfortunate company.

Bewildered half sleeping belly show stopper,my precious Security man makes an unsuccessful attempt to check my temperature from a device that always shows the same value.As I sense my storky surroundings filled with air of ignorance,insanity and intolerance,I bravely cross the border.

Sappy:Hello sir,Today I saw a snake shed his skin and walk away.

Me(in not so surprised tone):Was it in our lpg unit?

After what has happened in my LPG unit over past few weeks, a snake shedding his skin seemed like any other frivolous and funny event.

I carefully walk to avoid alligators and snake,but I know I will inevitable meet one,once I reach office.

Note:All reference to any creature does intend to hurt both man and the creature.

I almost trip over a well placed rusted grating on my way to my darling den.

I see kaka bringing tea in his usual amicable demeanor. I smile, he smiles and we walk past each other. There are many smile relationships I have developed in my life and I totally love it as I need not speak and there is no conflict.Sometimes,I feel,language has created more problems than it has solved and man has created language.

I sit on my half broken chair and stare curiously at the pyramid of non essential documents.I drink my super immune fluid and smile at the eternal idiosyncrasies of my space.I almost complete a breathe to see Rocky waiting with half torn white paper in his hand.

Rocky:Sir,I have to get sign for the work.

Me:But We don’t have fireman today.

Rocky(in shameless tone):We will do it with utmost safety sir.

Rocky shows no sign of remorse in uttering these syllables. Rocky’s Team specializes in creating glorious Diwali lights scene whenever they undertake any welding job. To listen safety from this innocent evil`s mouth was an insult to the man/woman or whosever created this term.

As Rocky leaves,Prasad enters.There are more memes on Prasad than Donald Trump. Dull Damaged Bathroom Slippers reflects his commitment to minimalism, mockery and stupidity.

Me:You Stay out,I will meet you in the field.

Prasad:Sir,I need a sign

This surely wasn’t a good sign.This work,these characters and on top of that we have Prasad. A Proud Maratha who plays more with welding torch light than a mighty Sword.But then his work kills my Soul.I reminded him again after taking few voluntary breathes.

In unabashed glittering suit, enters our Chhota Don:Chintu.I wish, I could play some music or drums to welcome this infamous man. But then, his usual unabashed voice aren`t music to my sensitive ears.

Chintu:I need a Crane Permit

Me(in a suspicious tone):What did you do last time you had one? You remember right?

I simply cant forget how poetically he broke the nozzle of an exchanger on a scorching Sunday Noon and vanished in polluted air when called to custody.

Me(in an affirmative tone):I will talk to Transport and Wear a N95 next time you enter.

I get up to change my costume from mysterious casual attire to Communal Orange Boiler Dirt Suit. I skip few breathes to check on my lungs, gulp my antibody shake and raise my brow only to witness another imminent disaster.

An Army of barely uncovered unmasked men waiting with permits in their filthy hand.

I politely request them to assert themselves one by one towards the podium. This is a Race I do not want to see.

Before this even begins ,I get another call from Big Boss.

Big Boss: Did the unit start? Coordinate and do it.

I simply have utmost honest hate towards this word: Coordinate. It is such an overused delusional concept just like efficiency or society or Democracy.

Me(frivolous attempt to act serious):Yes sir,I will.

Now, begins another circus of finding rare ravines in my workplace who may be willing to help me with this task. Or in other words :Coordinate.

A journey of million idiosyncrasies begins with a harmless one.

So it started: A Joke Called Job.


Resonance, Reality and Reflection

Resonant Frequencies Chapter X:

“This is vibrating like Hell, we may fall off anytime”, I said with terror in my bewildered eyes.

“Yeah, if it matches our resonant frequency” said Abhinav in a cool callous demeanor.

This idea stemmed from a shaky start ,we both were stuck at a working platform vibrating at frequencies faster than our heart beat. An idea that how we are instantly attracted to some people and hope others simply vanish in front of our eyes is worth examining. Is there any meaningful relationship between connection and frequencies.

I wish there was a mathematical equation that defined who will get connected to whom. We live in a non-Hogwartian world and we know most folks we meet on the road fall out of frequency with us. Yet, there are few that instantly get connected. Can we increase the connection frequency or simply rule out out of zone personalities? Can we expand our personality so that we can connect with more than few? These questions always put me in perpetual dilemma about what is true connection? Is getting a resonant frequency just coincidental or can this be achieved by directional effort?

Yet, how can we connect with everyone with same frequency. There are over 7 billion distinct maniacs unlike us, floating in this vast expanse of delusion and desire. I wish, I can create an App, that instantly tells your level of connection with fellow being. Yet, in this seemingly ordered sane world, we find ourselves lost in this battle of finding perfect frequency people(pfp).

I look outside and see a man teaching morse code to a dog.May be,that`s an interesting man I can connect with or may be I am going out of range in terms of my sane frequency. I walk further and see a girl taking a short break from her cycling and with a smile on her face rejoicing the moment with her fellow sapien about how playing with children was refreshing. Another case of interesting being yet I still can`t find relevant frequency to connect.

I look further and find a crazy man mumbling to himself, I look no further. I sit down in a nearby park and scribble down my dumb idea of connecting people with equations. I look for an equation that can be applied to everyone from: The king to a beggar from the sane to insane from boring to super-boring. After hours of brainstorming and frustration, came my eureka moment. That golden equation to connect people with numbers. Hold your breath, vodka or ego or whatever you are clutching onto. Check if you have corona, laugh at your neighbor and then scroll down the page.

Mighty equation that will shake this world:

Frequency of connect(Fc) =comfortable silence in minutes*mutual love and hatred*same sense of humor*curiosity in related subjects * honesty in conversation.*pure randomness

Out of 7 tricky terms, honesty in conversation is the most important one. Look for this sign, whenever you are finding your resonance. If you find this, then look for curiosity part then go for sense of humor then…I hope you get it. Weightage of this mighty equation increases with each term. Except the last one: pure randomness-It just happens.

Good luck on finding perfect resonant matches in your life. Until then keep exploring muggles, maniacs and jugheads and do not forget to apply Frequency of Connect equation next time, you say ‘Hi’ to someone.

Roller Coaster Ride

It seemed a quiet evening as we left our home with tons of ashirwaad, 2 bagpacks and lots of hope on our shoulders.We took a cab to mumbai airport with hope,excitement and glimpses of tiredness in our gleaming eyes.(We havent slept in last few days due to hectic schedule,our idiosyncrasies and of-course extraordinary packing strategy of my partner in adventure).Oh,I forgot to introduce-“we”,We includes my cute wild curious partner Rudie and my sane sincere sulky self.We reached airport in an hour,bid goodbye to our parents and were ready to fly.

We checked in smoothly,had usual quarrels and serenely sat at a cafe to have masala dosa and coffee.Enthusiasm had gripped our not so calm nerves,just then I received a beautiful message-your flight is delayed by two hours. I conveyed this wonderful news to my PIA(partner in adventure).We had few more hours at this stunning airport to explore.As time passed,we had already galloped Mexican pasta, window shopped at fancy jacket shop and had usual nitpicks on our way to our boarding gate.We reached Delhi Airport around midnight.Our first international flight was at 6:30 am in the morning(more than 6 hours at this darling airport) .My PIA had this amazing idea of downloading south Indian movie by airport`s WiFi,Oh! how it failed miserably.Our usual idiosyncrasies included gauging the mood of the people at airport(our fellow travelers).Around 3 am with drowsy delirious dreamy eyes,we went for check in and then to irritating immigration line.For some strange reason,half asleep immigration guy failed to stamp my passport.This bemused my PIA more than my strange acts.After this adventure,we dutifully waited for Turkish airlines not before having sumptuous early morning north Indian food at Delhi heights.We reached our gate an hour before take off .PIA drowned in her favorite hobby as soon as she saw a seat-dozed off delightfully.I was left watching her and hundred other passengers on this crazy sleep deprived morning at Delhi Airport.

Missing Istanbul:Turkish Airlines had comfortable seating with blankets,quiet passengers and entertainment screen(perfect recipe for PIA).I was waiting for flight to take off while doing my favorite hobby:observing people,worrying about possible disasters and thinking on common issues like life of an air-hostess ,cosmic energy and my purpose of existence.Another long flight and I fear another bout of irritating infamous insomnia, PIA is an expert in subject that concerns closing your eyes and cutting off from this physical world(sleeping as they call it).She requested me to play some strange english movie whose name I cannot remember.She insisted that we watch this strange movie together(synchronized second by second),she paused my screen every time I went few seconds ahead of her,I never understood this strange obsession of her.This went on for few more minutes before she finally agreed to watch at our own pace.I took a sigh of relief and waited for food to arrive.After PIA dozed off,I eagerly waited for something to satisfy my taste buds.Elegantly dressed in red and white, air-hostess came to me and asked me in the sweetest voice I have ever heard,”would you like tea or coffee?”,I replied with a smile,”tea for me and a blanket for PIA”.PIA was already feeling cold(we were yet to enter Europe).Besides PIA,sat a stout strong serious looking man probably in his late 30s. He greeted me with namaste. In my bid to engage in interesting conversation,I asked him if he ever visited India.He indeed had explored God`s own country(Kerala) and most foul mouthed capital state in the world(Delhi).Suddenly PIA woke up from her serene sleep and asked our European neighbor,”We have only 1.5 hrs layover time at Istanbul and our flight is already an hour late,will we be able to catch our ongoing flight to Vienna?”.I was stunned,here we were discussing about travel and culture and in no time,PIA diverted the topic amicably in a bid to calm her travel anxiety.She constantly stared at the screen that displayed time to arrive and speed,as if she could convince the pilot to push at rocket speed.She is a funny girl.I chuckled silently,though our neighbor told her in a sincere and assuring tone,”I have been to Istanbul a dozen times,Don`t worry,you will be there on time,Istanbul is a beautiful city”

Our European neighbor was from Slovakia and did tell us about the history of separation from Czech and similarity of rivalries between Slovakian and Czech folks as it is between Mumbai and Pune folks. Guy seemed well read and confident about everything he spoke.His assurance calmed PIA`s nerves and we landed in Istanbul at noon.We had an hour to catch our next flight.

PIA had this special power,she could sense if something was wrong.Yet ,to me and my Slovak friend,everything seemed normal.We swiftly made our way out of the plane and were excited to catch our next flight to Vienna. Tall,elegant and yet little panicky in posture,airport assistant,immediately asked us to run for the next flight.We saw the time,we had an hour,Slovak gave us a “been there,done that” look.We nodded and followed him, as he went from 0 to 60 km/hr in 10 seconds,we knew we were in trouble.I have never seen PIA run with such speed,tenacity and vigor ever in my life.On our supersonic speed run,5 others joined in and together 8 of us displayed Olympic level performance.We ran,clock ran and we found we had to do security check again.Goodness me,it was touch and go now.By special request from lanky Slovak,we were allowed to enter VIP line.Only 15 minutes was left and we ran frantically towards the gate. PIA never expected adventure to be so taxing on her legs.She still had hope in her eyes.We climbed upstairs,ran and again went downstairs,ran and ran and ran.Alas,we finally reached the gate only to read the dreadful line-“Gates are closed”

What an incredible start to our honeymoon trip.Roller coaster ride had just begun.I looked behind to see PIA in shock,some strange Russian in tears and our Slovak leader giving blank look.Journey had just begun.