Ant R

So, Dussehra over, Diwali is over, and all I have written is some harakiri inducing poetry that doesn’t rhyme in a single place. God knows what I was upto. I don’t keep track of stuff I do, I hope he does, he would need it someday for the ‘evaluation’. Anyhow, barring a few mortal occasions, life’s not been too bad. My house can now be called a home, one would like to live here now. It has also been having visitors. My brother dropped in, friends have been dropping in, parents dropped in. This sudden advent of visitors has somehow been too much of confusing information to handle for my maid who was used to seeing the solitary me in this house for so many months. Which is perhaps why, when my mom told her about my brother, my maid provided her six different versions of visitors who she thought was my brother. My mom was confused and aghast because, yeah, you know how moms are. 

Mom’s penchant for chatting up people and socialising has always worried me. On Diwali eve, while we were sitting on the lit up terrace, she enthusiastically suggested we go and socialise with the neighbours - a proposal I rejected outrightly. Later that week I heard dad had gone and ’socialised’ with my most non-cooperative ground floor neighbour, who he thought was a nice poor man who nobody in the building likes, hence he feels I should go and coffee with them. I informed that indeed, I am included in that list of nobodies because he is a jerk. Dad apparently also had a chat with the broker, plumber, carpenter, electrician and the owner of the colony cab rental agency whom he has asked to ensure ‘my safety since I stay alone’. Brilliant, so now the entire colony knows there is a single woman living here, including prospective thieves. 

They are somehow unable to understand that being neighbours doesn’t automatically qualify people to be included in my active social circle (which, I admit, is more electronic since the people I can relate to are far and few, literally). Besides, if I do have free time outside of work, I’d rather spend it with interesting people like myself. Alright, that was narcissistic. 

Talking of which, I have a feeling that some people at work feel I have an attitude. But to my own surprise, I realised that it is an accusation I am not to keen on denying. I may have sub-consciously adopted it for two primary reasons: a) the ability to deliver hence accept only quality work and b) the unwillingness to be used overtime by those who don’t. Thanks to the ‘attitude’ I no longer have to write all the speeches. Having worked with some of the best minds in the industry earlier on in my career, it now amazes me to see the sharp decline in quality and attitude among ‘professionals’. I watch in amazement as a fair majority of people spend most of their time looking for ways to piggy back on a bunch of hardworking people. Also, I seriously want to know how many calories does the human mind take to ‘think’, given the rare commodity it has become these days. Anyhow, more on than later because this post ends here (because I want it to).