I'm still young!

No. I've not discovered a magic anti-ageing cream.
No. I've not lost any weight.
No. I've not joined college, again.
I've just (re) discovered the joy of a (second) first paycheck.
The joy that comes with a dilemma - of having already planned how to spend (almost all of) it . The way it is with your real first one - what to buy for yourself to prove that you can actually pay for it, what to buy for your family - to prove to them that you can actually pay for it, and what to buy for your special someone - to show them how much you care to buy something and you actually pay for it.
8 months of no magic-wandish-end-of-the-month credits into your account, and you'd be reacting just like me!
Yep - I'm employed once again. Back to the grind after a complete whirlwind of a break. Yay!
PS: Never thought I'd be excited about getting back to work, but such is life I guess. Always full of surprises.

Yay! I'm back. Missed all the ranting I got to do on this space. I guess the lack of anything to rant about must've kept me away :)
I'm in that extremely-rare-at-this-age, happy-go-lucky, sabbatical phase.
YES. I quit my job two and a half months ago and have been doing, well acutally, dreaming about doing, all the things that I've always wanted to do, but never got time to. But truth be told, time does fly. Only yesterday I was wondering where all these days went. So what did I manage to accomplish in the last 9 weeks of unemployment? Let's see:

1. The long-awaited Vipassana course (2 weeks) - Yes. I did keep mum for 10 days. No. I didn't break the rules. More on that in a separate post. This one's only recap.
2. The much-needed sibling time - (1 week) - Spent a week in Mallaya land. Sibling and sibling-spouse bonding initiated, Stage 001 complete. Of course, would've loved a lot more time there but a waiting spouse needed attention.
3. Family-bonding time (3 days-1 week) - Spent a week back in Hyd with mes parents and mon frere and spouse. The first time our now-Size 6 family met. Bliss time.
4. Friends, fiends and soulmates (1 week) - Mumbai-Matheran-Mumbai. Met a boss-bugged, overworked dear friend who reminded me to thank the Almighty for not being in that situation and to pray that she gets out of hers fast enough. Met QQ who reminded me how good life can be with your best girlfriend around, except of course, when she devilishly and deviously gives you wrong advice on footwear (More in another post - I promise. Recap, remember?) Met Arch whose shoulder I could cry on/lean on for wardrobe woes/sartorial sermons. Met U&P who reminded me how love is not a slave of time; how a decade of togetherness could seem like just a speck on the spectrum of time you have ahead of you, with each other. Met R&S who reminded me of the initial hiccups of a working couple. It made me wonder, what makes one WANT to live in Mumbai? The long distance travel, the traffic, the rentals, everything seems to intolerable, and yet, there are millions who live there and many others who aspire to.
5. WHERE DID THE OTHER 4 GO? Now let me see. I did watch a LOT of silly movies, cooked like never before (good or bad, do not ask), slept a bit, grappled with brief illness, sorted a million papers I'd been hoarding, read - much lesser than I'd have loved to, worked out - lesser than I'd read, meditated - lesser than I'd worked out. But guess what, I'm loving it!

Little did I know when I kissed my job goodbye, that there would be souls who'd be envious of me in that state. Over the last few (atleast I'd like to think of them that way!) weeks I've come across a good number of people (women) who'd love to be in my shoes. MY unemployed, cash-crunched, waiting-to-be-replaced, shoes. (Okay - that was dramatic. I'm not in such bad financial shape either. But of course, if you wish to donate to the Shisul Sab-Rehab Fund you're always welcome!)

Its nice to hear ex-colleagues (Rocks&Roses) throw choicest expletives at you when you tell them you're out shopping/eating fresh pasta at a fine-dining restaurant for LUNCH, while they're slogging away at their desks. Ummm...now that's what I call a break.

All the niceties and frivolities aside, I'm beginning to feel scared. Scared I might get used to this life and not want to get onto a full-time job anymore. Onto doing something to earn enough to go on vacations a few times a year, to spend weekends watching movies and eating out..is that what life's all about? Do you choose what you'd like to do, which may not feed you, but will keep you happy enough? Or do you pick what is the way of the world? Duty/responsibility over pleasure? Isn't there are larger purpose of our existence? Beyond our own selfish selves? What is mine? Do I follow my heart or my head? What would you do?

A good week of work. A better weekend of fun.
Part One.
The year seems to have started on a good note. I actually woke up, looking forward to going to work, all days of the last two weeks! Surely 2009 is a good year – this doesn’t happen to me usually.
Last week was great – got some work done. Started a few new things, closed a few old ones. Monday and Tuesday went past in an all-employee meeting that deserves a whole new paragraph. : )
New people, old friends, a few broken bones (not mine, thankfully) and a lot of dancing.
This was the first time I was in one of those conference/off-site/come-ye-all type of ‘work’ gatherings, where the number of women was more than 1% of the total population! Now I’m not the touch-me-not variety, but if you’ve been part of sales conferences and junta get-togethers you’ll know what I mean. Picture this: 40 men on a cruise. Almost all of them, getting drunk and dancing away to sleazy (for me, atleast) dance numbers and hard core (not Hard Kaur – she’s too hip) Punju tracks (aside: the worst is where there’s a bunch of these guys doing the ‘sapera’ - snake charmer and ‘saanp’ – the snake, of course, jig to EVERY bloody track! Gives me the creeps, seriously!) You’re the ‘single female travail-er’ – in which case one of the two things could happen to you, depending on a.) how you look, or b.) how you network, or c.) how much you care. You could either get totally alienated or get all the (un) wanted attention and cringe and want to wither or slither away. Thankfully, and I desperately cross my fingers as I say this, the bunch of people I’ve been working with for the last few years are the most easy-to-get-along-with and fun while not being too overbearing. Basically, be and let be types.

Nonetheless, coming back on track, this was the first time there were about 10 women in all and after the initial ‘oh-no. this is not my kind of music’ pretense, all of us hit the dance floor. Well, actually, you can’t avoid that if you’re either being dragged onto the floor by one of the girls or are hiding, quite unsuccessfully, behind the foliage to only hear your name being called out, rather unceremoniously, almost akin to the roll call at suicide-squad practice, on the PAS (or whatever that thing a DJ uses is called!). So finally it was about 8 or 9 of us dancing away, totally oblivious of the world. Tracks ranging from the near classic ‘gur naal ishq mitha’ (which I think means love’s sweeter than jaggery.. Delhi girls to help please) to the uber new ‘my desi girl’. Being the multi-linguistic bunch that we are, even Telugu and Tamil hits weren’t spared. Not that I cared. It was euphoria at its newest best. Never ever have I been so uncaring of my surroundings and just let myself go. I remember one of my good friends telling me that I’m always so ‘in control’ of myself and that I should let go once in a while. (Well, his recommendation was experiencing a liquor-induced high. Only, the medium I chose was quite different). Don’t want to write more about it and limit the feeling to a mere expression. In all, a great (albeit back breaking, thanks to jumping in stilettos) night followed by a surprising morning where a couple of people asked me if I was still hung over?! I guess everyone who’s used to seeing the ‘oh. I don’t dance’ me, thought the plausible explanation for my aberrational behaviour was booze. Pity. These lowly mortals. Someone went as far as telling me how to get rid of a hang over. ‘Drink lots of water’ the wise man recommended.

I stifled a curse, metamorphosis-ed it into a smile and said, ‘I don’t drink.’

(To be continued...)