A primitive mind's eye

Friday, August 18, 2006

Yourself: Erratic
Your friends: Insane
Your hair? Messed-up
Your mother? Scary!
Your Father? Tough
Your Favorite item? Computers!
Your dream last night: Sony making underwear [:-o]
Your Favorite drink: Lemon Tea
Your Dream Car: Audi Le Mans
The Room You Are In: Cramped
Your strength: Nonchalance??
Your fear: Incompetence
Where do you want to be in 10 years: A lot higher up than where I am
Who you hung out with yesterday? About 300 Mumbai-kars in the space of 2 square feet.
What You’re Not: Forgiving
Your Best Friend: Don’t believe in the funda
One of Your Wish List Items: My very own living room LCD projector, for starters
What makes you happy: A good meal
The Last Thing You Did: Raise false alarms of fart-smell in the elevator and jab pointing fingers at everyone else
What You Are Wearing: New-age business casuals
Your Favorite Weather: Rainy springs
Your Favorite book: The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
The Last Thing You Ate: Idly for 24 rupees goddamit
Your Life: Turbulent
Your Mood: Mostly cynical
What are you thinking about right now: How to escape work
Your Dream: Quality work, Earn lots, live life mast-banke!
What are you doing at the moment: Typing (Which idiot made this questionnaire?!)
Your summer schedule: Who knows? I live by the minute

Thursday, August 10, 2006

And we’re back…….for now.

And for good reason too, because I’m pissed with the world for a whole assortment of reasons. And that sounds redundant again, and that pisses me off again…Arrrgghhhh

Well, it all started with this weird job of mine, at this friggin HUGE place called Accenture. And that too in the hell-hole of the world, God’s own shit-pot, Mum-fucking-bai. What a god forbidden place this is man!! I mean – it rains JUST when you step out. It’s crazy how the winds and the clouds programme themselves oh-so-perfectly to ruin my mood. Everything is so damn far away sometimes I begin to wonder if the copy of The Hitchhiker’s guide to the Galaxy smug in my bag really isn’t misplaced after all. It’s an everyday cross-country goddamn unpredictable voyage to office. And not that these bastards keep us constant at one place. As soon as I start to get into the groove of this whole traveling mess along one particular direction vector, BAM comes the directive to go to ANOTHER god-forsaken place on the other end of the planet.

What ticks me off is that everyone seems to find it so damned normal.

And that, folks, is one MORE reason, to piss me off, as you undoubtedly must have deduced by now.

Consider the possibility of having dickheads for instructors. I mean – PROPER idiots. All those smart-ass HR training sessions where a guy in a tie (or a lady in a salwar kameez which looks like it’s been imported from Uranus) comes and gives chic, smartly made presentations in and out for 2-3 days on end, inevitably, end up being stupid anyway. They’re stupid because it leaves everyone with the impression that our original instructors are the souls who need this HR stuff the most. They can’t speak, if they can, they’re strangely dumb. What a goddamn paradox anyway.

Ah – that brings us to the reason why I am REALLY mad today. The Training-coordinator nearly yelled at me. This guy’s a squat, round squibbly lunatic called Ashish. God smite they monkey who passed him in his Class-1 Manners-and-Moral-Studies class. For the longest time I could imagine I wondered if he had a bone of humankind-commonsense in him, however primate. What with his walking, talking gorilla of an assistant, Ghulam, prancing about him, the pair would look absolutely amazing as The Inter Galactic Museum For the Mentally Challenged’s subjects.

Apparently I’m a really really negative guy.
-->Ah. What a deduction. Even a half brained dodo could deduce without all that feedback paperwork you did. Asshole.

And that I tend to irritate instructors.
-->Hey, they were the ones who asked us to ask questions if we had any. So what if I said “Just what the hell are you talking about?”

And that I always come late to class and that I cook up lame excuses when I DO land.
->Yeah, right. Especially when I was stuck in rains so bad that I was inches away from three TV cameras coming in drones to interview poor souls like me who were ‘stuck’ in a Domino’s outlet because of the downpour. Whose fault is it anyway dammit?!!

And that he had received complaints from a lot of other sources as well.
-->Bullshit. He just made that up to sound officious. Fucking idiot. I’ll roast you in hell for that.

And that my performance in the tests were not an issue of discussion at all.
-->Now THAT is a sure-shot benchmark for stupidity. He could’ve had me by the balls if he took that up. And even if he did, there wasn’t a way in the world I could say, “Screw you. Go and eat a pile of kangaroo dung. It’ll soothe your dangling nerve-tripe. I have another job anyway.”

And they won’t pay me!! I have not a clue why it took 26 days to open one freaking account, and that too after everything’s been done! I have a good mind to lob a Class A baked brick at my HR Rep. And her cupboard at her through her glass – tinted room for good measure. I’m sure it wouldn’t fit, but if it does, I’d stick her stupid-looking laptop up her triangular ass as well. I mean – THINK about the atrocities these HR idiots do! They definitely are NOT there to talk to you. They’re the brilliant bridge between the devil and the deep fucking sea whenever you don’t want them. It’s also an irritating characteristic of these HR guys to keep appearing in places where you REALLY wouldn’t want them to be – for instance, circumstances like now. One whole hour of looking at her face and my murderous intents are heightened to crazy heights. You know I’m beginning to conjure images of all the employees in Accenture getting killed when I pass elephant flatulence through their AC’s? I’m gonna make it happen if something nice doesn’t happen. And fast.

And that reminds me – I have another of those accursed exams tomorrow. I mean – when I get out of IIT, I DO tell myself – the rat-race is now over, Murali, now you’re a free man. Nuts to it. I’m dead. And as dead as dead can be.