how i get to work

I love going to work. Before you start thinking that I’m one of those over-enthu first bencher types, let me clarify. I like ‘going to’ work. By that, I mean the process of getting from home to office. Because I never know what that process is going to be like.

On some days when my husband is feeling particularly vengeful, he throws his well-used diesel car at me, challenging me to maneuver the beast through the well-used roads of Bangalore that has too many users. And… reach my office without bruising the beast. This of course shakes up my delicate mental balance, and I’m pretty much useless at work that day.

On days when my husband is willing to go through the torture himself, and I intend to be productive, I do my usual thing in the morning and beg the security guy to please find me an auto that will go to the worst place in the world, Inner ring road. And I won’t pay extra or double or whatever. Tall order in bengalooru, ain’t it? And so, my order is never taken seriously. So I start the journey by foot, not knowing if some kind stranger (and not psycho) might take pity on me and give me a lift, or some kind auto driver might be willing to take my hard earned money to drop me to work. Or some half empty bus might stop right next to me and take me in the general direction of where I am going.

Most often, I get lucky with the auto guys, with a little bit of walking and a lot of persevering. Sometimes I get lucky with some neighbour who needs company for the dreadful journey (theirs). And sometimes, with complete strangers (all women) who have already gotten lucky with the auto guys and are willing to share their loot. Of course, this is the interesting part. The people who share their autos with me. While some are less than willing to share their seats, others are a little more sympathetic.

There was Uma, who by the way spoke English the way she spoke Bengali, who made sure that both of us lost the auto ‘cause he wanted money from both of us. Good point. Why should we have to pay double to Shylock, when he gives us both the same ride eh? So she got another auto, and I tempted her and the other auto driver into a deal that made both of them happy. (No, I’m not going into the deal now)

And then there was Shreya, who was willing to drop me till BEML gate, while the auto driver was unwilling. And then I found out she was going to almost where I was going. So we ganged up and gave him a raw deal by sharing the meter fare!!!! Can you believe we did that? AND, she gave me her number and asked me if she could give me a ride EVERYDAY!!! Nice girl I thoughtJ If she was a guy, I might’ve married her. Or if I was lesbian. (And was in Canada) And, of course, if I wasn’t married. But this post is not about my marital life.

And then, there was this one day when I got into a bus which looked like it might take me a kilometer ahead. But, the bus conductor was less than willing to answer my questions on where the hell he was going. Maybe he thought it was none of my business where he was going. Maybe he didn’t like my unmade-up face. Maybe he didn’t like my hand-me-down clothes. Maybe he didn’t like the fact that I spoke in, of all the Indian languages, English! Anyway, I got down at a point when he was losing his cool and I thought was slightly closer to work, and continued my journey on foot… And you know what I found out? It is possible to walk over a flyover!!! It had never occurred to me that people could actually walk on flyovers. Can you imagine my happiness? I was grinning all the way to work, and caused a somewhat minor accident because of that. But I continued grinning…J

Ah…the joy of going to work!

all grown up

The inevitable has happened. It took a longer than usual, of course, but it has happened nevertheless. I think I have grown up. Before you start laughing, let me explain why I have come to this grave conclusion.

1. I don’t enjoy rock music anymore. Not like I used to, at least. I actually laugh (to myself) at the music my out-of-cradle colleagues play at work.

2. I have actually started listening to the lyrics, which in general go like this ‘I like the way you look at me. I like the way you grab my ass.’ Really!!!! I didn’t know there were very many ways of grabbing one’s ass.

3. I have started listening to jazz and, god forbid! Western classical. And I must confess I did this voluntarily with no compulsion from Rajesh Doraiswamy whatsoever. And…I actually enjoy it.

4. I have stopped wearing t-shirts that say ‘I leave bite marks’ or ‘up your standards. I could be yours.’ Ok, let me rephrase it. I wear them only at home.

5. I actively work towards spending as much time at home as possible. (Sorry, Indijoes)

6. Eating out means eating at office (home cooked lunch if I may add)

7. My social life mainly consists of taking a walk around the building with health conscious and, may I add, middle-aged women. The topics of conversation range from ‘what my son ate for dinner today.’ to ‘how to stay indifferent to your husband’s indifference’

8. My love life on the other hand… yeah right! Like I’m gonna let out my x-rated secrets on this blog!

9. The parties I go strangely resemble 7th birthday parties. Well, I sit around drinking fruit punch, playing games (harmless, I must add), and then when I’ve had enough of both, I dance to meaningless music to kill time till dinner, have dinner, and then wait for someone to pick me up at a time that’s way before my son’s bedtime.

10. I’m trying to come up with a reason 10, but it seems the activities in my life are pretty much restricted to single digits… there, that’s my 10th reason!