The Exit of a mercenary

Eyes nervously look around for a secluded nook, the feet turn jelly and words simply refuse to come out of the mouth...I stand nervously on the stairs, shuffling undeterminedly. I very well know that after 5 more minutes the my life in here will never remain the same. Just a few moments after now everything will seem so alien and and things otherwise quotodian will seem to be loaded with some "hidden" message. Oh how I had waited for this moment and how timid I am when the moment of reckoning has actually come. I think over, trying to find some fault with my organization..a casual comment from a colleague that hurt..unsatisfactory work...cramped workstation..delayed salary..less salary..something...no, I go over the list again and find that I have nothing against the company that warrants the step I am going to take..but again, wasn't I the same person who, till yesterday was a vehement critic of company policies and who wanted to leave this "heap of garbage" as soon as possible, why, now the same heap of garbage looks like a redolent bouquet of fresh roses!

Anyways, I muster my courage thats rapidly deserting me and descend the stairs. I tentatively look inside the cube to find my manager assiduously working on some xcel sheet, quite unaware of the "tragedy" thats going to confront him just a few minutes from now. I shake my head in pity and better thoughts again take over, but then I remember the last appraisal, the last award distribution, the last mid-year review and my mind fills with the feeling of retribution and it paints a cruel picture of my manager..my heart gets some incentive and before I even collect my words, the tongue starts blabbering.."Excuse me Srinivas..can I have a talk with you?"..I remember that my ex-colleagues have traditionaly invited him for a coffee or tea to accomplish this, but somehow I find it too artificial and therefore gently murmur: "..Its urgent"..Srinivas is up from his desk and very soon we are marching towards the nearest conference room even as I rehearse my spiel for the nth time. The colleagues are all eyes to this spectacle and their faces say it all: "One more down..".

Once inside, the door is closed and manager tries to sound as normal as he can be in the present circumstances and says:"Yes, tell me..". I know that he knows what am I going to tell him..I know that he also knows that he can't stop me..but then corporate ethics rule that we both carry out this charade, so here I go: "Well, Srinivas, I have decided to quit". Srinivas's expression changes from fury to concern and finally to resignation. He knows that this was coming from the time I have requested him to come to this glass room...so he speaks out, carrying out the formalities:"Is it a work issue or a salary issue" and to this my obvious answer is :"Well a sort of both, i think I am not getting good work and this very fact is reastraining my salary"...I pat myself for sticking to the rehersed script and a very experienced Srinivas persists: "So if we give you better work, will you stay back?"..hmmm..I am veterean and know that he wants me to call it a salary issue and portray me as a mercenery..but I am not going to fall for this booby trap...so here I go: "Well, its a different domain altogether that I am getting outside and I know that you won't be able to match that..its not a salary issue at all" and I say this even as I know that the last sentence is a blatant lie.

Rest of the things fall into place by themselves. The exit procedure starts, HR takes the charge, haggling happens over the relieving dates and finally,the relieving date is communicated. And thus comes the day thats supposed to be "The Last Day"...I enter into the office and busy myself in completing the exit procedure..everything seems so nostalgic..the Outlook, the workstation, the canteen, the colleagues..everyone is busy but still I feel a stillness around me..its something like the feeling of emptiness one gets while attending a cremation in a mortuary! I try to take a backup of every bit of data and I to (mis)use the Laser Printer for one last time to take copies of payslips and other important(or non-important) docs including my latest resume. And finally somewhere in evening, HR gives a call, an Exit interview (a set of Qs and As) is held and as I shake hands for the final time and take her leave she says: "Excuse me, can I have your ID please.." and thus I duely take out my doggy tag(even that seems attractive now!!) and surrender the same to her. I walk out exactly the way I had once walked in, with a folder held in my arms, sporting a smile, looking forward towards a new future...

I enter my workstation for the last time, shut down the PC and shake hands with colleagues. Some kind souls also insist for a photograph. Digicams click and flashes pop..I am reduced to bits on a digital file...and my physical being walks out heavily from the office. I get down the lift and give one last wistful look at the magnificient glass and marble building that I had once entered with a sunshine of hope..and then I walk out of the gate, never to look back again..muttering to myself these memorable lines:

The office was lovely and people were nice,
But my life needed more spice,
And many more jobs I'll quit for that salary hike,
and many more jobs I'll quit for that salary hike.....

A trip to MG Road

"You have never been to MG road..?" my friend was staring at me with the most contemtible glare,making me realize the gravity of my insolence. I felt I had committed a grave crime,an unpardonable sin,a most despicable solecism..."For 4 months you are in Bangalore and you have never been to MG Road..Shame on you!" Now, what the heck is MG Road? Just a road, right? Why create so much hype about a stupid lane? My words seemed to have infuriated my friend- "Road..its much more than a road..its the most happening place at Bangalore..its the place where you will see the real Bangalore glamour..pubs..girls..night life" and he went on to deliver a tirade on my apparant sacrilegious statement. I could not argue anymore before this staunch devotee of MG Road, I only wished he had the same regard for the poor fellow whose name was eponymous with this "glamour lane"!

So when a friend rang me up to tell that he was getting his Qualis along, all the way from Pune,just to enjoy the Bangalore "light life", I failed to quell my curiousity to get a glimpse of this much touted "night life" at MG Road. The date was April 09 and the time was 7:45PM..I was picked by my 3 friends at a traffic signal called "Sony World" in local parlance and thus begun my much awaited journey towards MG Road. A guy called Sanat seemed to be well acquainted with these "happening places" and played the role of our road guide. Enroute we passed Forum Mall where desperate couples tried to vent out their testosteronic kicks by indulging in some free-for-all-to-see fondling and cuddling...I never knew that one could be so desperate to fondle a lady's hair or touch her thigh until now..anyway...

The big vehicle rolled on and we were on a busy signal when the driver in the car running next to us braked on the red light and gesticulated with his hands. In Bangalore any such approach by a stranger is to be taken as hostile by default. So our friend-turned-driver Saket returned this mute compliment by looking angrily in the direction of car-driver and mumbling goodies under his breath...we were satisfied for making the hisab-barabar when to our extreme anger we saw the same action repeated again. Obviously,Saket was enraged and just as he was going to dart his head out of the side-window to give his earlier compliments a verbal-form we heared over the noise of impatient traffic broken words like "Light...loose..hanging.."..the expert mechanical engineer that Saket is, he took no time to infer that the fellow is referring to the headlamps of our Qualis, which Abesh soon confirmed, are dangling down. I knew that this trip was doomed.

We slowly drifted apart from the main stream of traffic and got down to take stock of the situation. The headlamp was indeed dangling down, kissing the bumper. Saket pulled, pushed,shoved and shook..try as he might, the light would not come out, so we decided to fix it somehow and drive slowly towards a stationery shop where we'll buy a cellophene tape to tie the loose ends. Driving cautiously to avert any further damage, we came to a huge glass shop called "Crossword". "This is the place we were looking for", Saket exclaimed. Before I could gather his exact intent, he had driven the Qualis down the slope to park it into one of the slots marked as "Reserved for Crossword Customers". And now he turned around to proudly proclaim to his bewildered audience: "Come down guys..aren't we Crossword customers? We are going to buy cello tape!"..So the guy was upto saving 20Rs on parking...well..err..we could as well pay and park..I protested.."Shut up and keep mum..we will Park for free.."..my protests being thus gagged,I had little option except to follow my merry friends inside the huge stationery shop, where we were going to buy a cello tape (and save 20Rs)...I somehow had this feeling again that our trip was doomed!

The experience in Crossword was great. There were ladies draped in rags revealing their assets most tantalizingly,there were gentlemen trying to act intellectual by gazing at a tome from autobiography section and there were kids criss-crossing through all the sections, making the shop resemble one big fare..in other words there was much more to browse than books. Anyway, Abesh and his roommate came down with cello-tape and we got it billed and started out, leaving the Qualis conviniently parked at Crossword. After a small dinner and a little walk we complacently started towards Crossword, Saket still too happy about saving 20Rs on parking and me still doubious about the trip. It was 10:00PM and the Crossword was closed. The parking was almost deserted except one or two cars.."Time to watch chicks at MG Road.." Saket exclaimed and he started the engine to pull the Qualis slowly above the slope. "Hey..something is amiss..I think we have a puncture..". My heart leapt..I told you...but by now Abesh and Sanat were down with Saket and the verdict was out : "Bastards have deflated 3 tyres of our Qualis..."..I told you the trip was doomed..didn't I?

Slowly we trudged the Qualis up the slope and we were soon joined by 2 couples who, like us,had returned after a merry trip only to find their spirits and tyres deflated. There was hardly anything we could do except to take tyres one by one to the nearest petrol bunk and get them inflated back. The expectatation of enjoying night life was soon reduced to the drudgery of jacking up the vehicle, taking out the tyre and replacing the jack with a heavy stone. This procedure was repeated thrice and very soon I found myself in an auto,surrounded by three deflated tyres, enjoying my trip on MG Road enroute to petrol bunk!

Auto wallahs at Bangalore are an edgy breed. They seem to know no other langauge than Kannada and interestingly, they would go on arguing regardless of whether the object of their tirade understands it. On such occassions they seem to be often hit by what may be called as a "Barking-Dog-Syndrome"(BDS),they will keep shouting inscrutable language at the top of their voice until someone shouts at double their decibel level to silence them. So in our case, when I tumbled out of the congested auto, the driver seemed to have taken umbrage by the fact that I did not pull out the luggage (tyres in this case) immediately. Before I could understand his problem, the BDS hit him and he began to throw the tyres out as if the poor deflated rubber rings had defiled his sacrosanct auto....Our experiences till now had not been very pleasant and BDS was the last straw...but this is Bangalooru, the cosmopolitian capital city of Karnataka..for every gibberish thrown at him an "outsider" is expected to be silent. I followed the norm and very soon, having spewed out his quota of vitriol against "ousiders" who had destroyed his heavenly land, I went onto the more mundane task of inflating the tyres.

The return trip to Crossword was thankfully uneventful. It was 11:15PM, our sense of humour was lost and the 4 of us went silently on the task of replacing the 3 tyres. Finally at 11:40PM we started back..silent deserted potholed roads and glimmering street-lights was all that we saw as the "night life". I thus returned back after attending a superb crash course on how to replace deflated tyres and endure BDS.

With all the tetchy autodrivers and punishing parking guards,the night life at MG Road indeed rocks!