Driest of Days
After a long time, I happened to listen to the tracks of Slumdog Millionaire today. I don't listen to those tracks often because they remind me of the driest of days - The days in Madurai. February-March 2009. Yuck! I wish I could just delete them from my life. Monday, Feb 23rd 2009, when the world woke up to the news of the double Oscars, I woke up too, at 4 AM to catch a glimpse of Rahman walking down the red carpet. Few of my colleagues (I should say co-trainees) dropped in as early as 6 AM to see if he made it. But, in vain. They left to work by 9 AM, when his turn hadn't come yet. I wasn't going to miss this to go to a place and copy, paste code from one workspace to another, all day.
"And the award goes to A.R.Rahman", was all I heard and I was running in and out of the hall, celebrating the joy, taking calls and making calls. And then came the performance and one more. My joy knew no bounds. And it lasted for about 15 minutes, after which it sunk in that I had to go to work. Dad wasn't home. My roommate who was back from Cbe that morning had left to work too. Alone was the word. I wanted to shout aloud, "God! Sling me away! Far from this place". The worst was, that day I was to be seated amongst employees, who pocketed a nice, fat pay-cheque and did not have to worry about being sent home soon enough. The rest were being shifted to another location and I was arranged a temp machine to work with. Two more days and I had to go to my college to attend the interview for the job of a lecturer, which went well, but a department merger ruined any chances of getting in. Even if I could, it was not until June/July.
Family issues were at a peaking rate. Almost everyday, an argument with dad leading to one of us yelling at the other and me storming out of the apartment to a colleague's place, so that I could be amongst people who really understood what it meant to be me. Signing out of yahoo hurriedly to avoid a fight with my sister or a friend. All of them were really supportive, but the mind needed a tad more than that. The problem was I din know what that was. Soon enough, calling a friend/classmate needed double thinking because even a birthday wish ended in discussion about recession and job hunt.
The hurried weekend trips to Coimbatore came as a big breather. The toughest of my uncles had begun to say, "Can't help it. Be patient!". It was good to meet friends who never said the usual stuff like "You'll find your way out", but laughed along for the dumb jokes of being "almost" unemployed. When I board the bus, the heart would sink again. During one of those trips, I lost my mobile, which definitely was one of my priced possessions. Like a madman, I drove my bike for around 20-30 kilometers looking for it, at 4:30 in the morning.
The worst part was when some of them started to leave. I remember looking at the screen of a friend greedily, as he filled in the resignation form. The many calls from people who wanted to help, but couldn't offer more than a startup company, some even without a fixed pay until they won a project. The two other offer letters I had (from campus interview) were just a set of printed papers now. The world had never seemed so secretive; Nil response for the 60 odd job related query mails sent out. Attaching a resume to a mail had become as much as a habit as not expecting a reply. And finally, the day came. Around 10 of us had applied for a development job at a company in Bangalore. When the first person got a mail to attend the interview the following day, the rest of awaited ours. At least for a few hours, I thought that my day had come. But, it hadn't. 2 of the 10 of us saw the rest of them off at the bus stand. All we could do was wish them luck. It wasn't their fault.
I went home dejected. Argument again. Yelling again. I did not have anywhere to storm out. The rest were on their way to Bangalore. I cried that night. Like a little child. Like a pressure cooker that seems like it is going to burst open, I opened my mind to the air in my room, well I should say, to the heat filled room. With reddened eyes I reached office the next day. All hopes shattered. The little enthusiasm left, flushed down the drain. And there it came. The same company had called the two of us for a testing vacancy. It was April 1st and I thought some idiot was playing a prank on us. That night on the way to Bangalore, we heard that we had another interview the day after that, in Chennai. In the end, I was unemployed on one Thursday and was considering the pros and cons of two offers, the next.
A couple of days later, it was my turn. I checked if I had missed out any fields before I clicked the Submit button of the resignation form. The promise was made. Three weeks later, I was on that side of the bus, where the people on the other side still hoped, "Our day is on its way". As I prayed for them, I also remembered to wish myself.
Happy Independence Day!
Lets promise to take care of ourselves.
Lets not spread trouble, if unable to spread happiness
Lets not punish others for small mistakes that we don't like to punished for.
Lets not honk at the vehicle in the front; some people still wait for the Green signal.
Lets not drink and drive; Lets give others the fair chance to live.
Lets shed uncalled for judgement.
Lets invest trust to profit out of it.
Lets forget false beliefs.
Lets be determined to go forward.
We are the nation; The nation will move forward with us.
Jai Ho! Jai Hind!
