The Pleasure and pain of working with a Female Boss

" Your word is my command Madam", no these are not the love soaked offerings of my Admirer but my helpless surrender to the unexhaustive demands of my Boss.

Yes, I have just suffered a Boss change and am still not over it. I have always dreaded working with a Female Boss. They can be real pain, though I have never experienced it personally. While a male boss will more often than not remember you are a lady, a female boss will take pleasure in reminding you that you ARE a Lady and for that matter a useless one. 

The lucrative part of a same sex boss is the no frills attached relationship. There are no pretenses, whatsoever. If you are on the credit side of the balance sheet you can just walk in their offices, crack a joke, give a high 5 and call it cuts. You can share everything with them from a hair cut gone awry to your PMS symptoms. 

But god forbid, if your relationship takes a U turn. There is no fury like the fury of a woman scorned and then... you are History.

On a more serious note females rule from heart. They reason and logic better than men. Their sense of humour is out of the world. They seldom show their favoritism and do not spare anyone when it comes to work. They are also better in letting go....of all the ill feelings, tensions, panics just because they are better organized. Time management is a child's play for them.  

I am not writing a ODE to my boss here (though I fervently wish she reads this) but I am yet to be a victim of her wrath. The zone ahead is a 'TREAD WITH CAUTION' path for me. It is good to let a lion sleep for as long as possible lest it roars and rips apart. 

Hang on....I hear something. Ssshhh she is coming and I am off to another page that reads.....How to become like your Boss ;)

Of love and longing

She sat on her bed crying. Today again she had a fight with Somu, her beloved husband. It had just been 2 years since both of them got married. These fights have already become a part of their early morning routine. 

She was a financially independent woman before marriage who left her job to cater to the initial demands of a family life. Sitting home was just not her. Yet she chose, to strike a balance. Why would not Somu understand that. Every other morning he would give some or the other reason to come home late. The passion was already amiss. 

It was her parent's anniversary today and they had called both of them. As usual Somu did not have time. She could have gone alone but that would hurt her parents. After all how many times did they formally invite both of them for the fear of letting her down.

While she was sitting, he called out - loud and clear, the ragpicker for the colony. Yup, she did have some old stuff to discard. She went out to ask him to wait and noticed a young boy in his early twenties doing the job. "Who are you, where is the elderly fellow who comes daily", enquired she. "He is my father and off late is not keeping well hence I come". There was a certain charm to the boy hence she asked him to sit and offered him water. She came to know that he was doing his post graduation and was not at all ashamed to pick rags. If his father could do this for the entire life to give him a good education he could surely do it for a few days. They sat for long and chatted. She contrasted his love for his father with Somu's love for her. How similar situations and how different the treatment. One took time out of love and the other could not find time for the love of his life. They talked for almost half an hour. 

And then it became a routine, she would talk to him daily on some or the other pretext. She sensed he also liked talking to her. Both of them found solace in the conversations they shared. He would tell her about how his mother left his father because she did not like the job he did and he swore to stand by his father no matter what. She would talk about Somu and how love was just crawling out of their marriage. The class confines held no bar for both of them. Where hearts meet, brains are forced to take a backseat. There were no worries of inflated egos, pretenses, false sophistication, Only plain, unadulterated admiration.

They  now started looking forward to this happy hour as they termed it, free from the worldly woes and so personal. She was no longer bothered by Somu's indifference to her. Somu was also happy to be relieved of her constant complains.He was amazed to see her light, playful demeanor back but failed to understand the reasons behind it. It was good for her if she continued this way. 

It had been a month today that they met. She offered to take him out for coffee. He was a little reluctant to get inside the five star hotel. He had still not adapted to her expensive ways. But he liked the way she kept a low profile despite the class. Hence he agreed. It was just the upbringing she had. Once inside they sat sipping coffee without a word. For the first time there was silence between them. Probably their eyes did most of the talking without letting the brain know of it. She paid the bill and came out. As they sat in the car their eyes met again. There were two agonized souls lurking in them.  They came closer and then their lips met. There was no urgency. Slow, soft, pure emotions simply flowing in as if in a gesture of giving. Giving peace, calm and  soothing the bruised selves. Their eyes met again. And then she realized.  The reality of the situation struck her for the first time. She withdrew in a fraction of second. He, not knowing what happened, just gazed at her. She started her car and raced home. Once there she ran inside and locked herself in, tears streaming down her eyes. 

Does happiness always comes attached with a price tag. Suddenly all the money in the world fell short to buy what she wanted. She opened her door to have a last look at him, he was already out of sight.

Reflections of a wandering soul

 A song from radio yesterday prompted me for this blog.

I have grown old with Indian Music (yup, English was never my forte except the ever so sexy number Waiting for tonight). Hindi songs were my first love teacher :) They are the best partners to a heartbreak too. There is more to what meets the eye, deep inside, between the lines. Here I go.

1) Chalo ek baar fir se - Gumraah

Melodical suggestion to amputate the disturbing memories, could not have been better. 

Wo afsana jise anjaam tak laana na ho mumkin, 

use ek khoobsurat mod dekar chodna achcha

2) Is mod se jate hai - Aandhi

The quest to unite, so strong, so ethereal yet so simple

ye soch ke baithi hu, ek raah to wo hogi

tum tak jo pahuchti hai

3) Mera kuch saaman - Ijaazat

A masterpiece by R.D. Burman and Gulzar, the perfect company to lonely nights with the raindrops plattering against the window panes. 

ek ijaazat de do bus, jab isko dafnaungi

mai bhi yahi so jaungi

4) Hum tumhe chahte hai aise - Qurbaani

An eternally romantic song, featuring the Ah so handsome Vinod Khanna. The desire of every heart in love

mere khwabon me jo saj raha hai

wo khuda to nahi par zamane me sabse juda hai

5) Jo tumko ho pasand - Safar

One song I would love my man to sing for me time and again. Throughout a promise of fidelity and unfaltering love. The presence of style king Firoz Khan lends more than just meaning to the song ;)

poore hue hai apse armaan zindagi ke

hum zindagi ko apki saugaat kahenge

6) Sagar jaisi aankhon wali - Saagar

Hardly will there be a woman on earth who will not blush listening to the song being directed to her. Full of enraptured admiration and delightful arousal of the senses.

ye armaan hai shor nahi ho,khamoshi ke mele ho
is duniya me koi nahi ho, hum dono hi akele ho

7) Humne dekhi hai - Khamoshi

a beautiful song which is simply out of the world. Every time I listen to the song the lyrics stir some unknown feelings deep inside me. The timeless art of defining love.

sirf ehsas hai ye rooh se mahsoos karo

pyaar ko pyaar hi rehne do koi naam na do

Am sure there are more in the list. Hindi songs have some of the most beautiful gems around. But for now this is all I recall. Feel free to add on. 

Lessons from Yesteryears

Dear Readers

This has been long boiling in me, but was too tied up to pen it down. Finally today I can stand it no more and have to write anyhow. My thoughts are foggy with so much to deliver and discuss.

We all during the natural phenomenon of growing up knowingly or otherwise experience so many things which mold us to be what we are, from insignificant trivia to remarkable episodes.

This column will be about important lessons that I have learned during the course of my growing years. They have all contributed in me becoming what I am today. So all those who think I am a good human being, I am hardly to credit. There are so many out there who have left a mark on me and have shaped me in my current form. 

My favorite lesson till date has been from a close school friend Vriti Sharma. I have hardly seen her after my college days but we still manage to catch up on phone at times. I remember it vaguely....something had happened while in school and everybody held me responsible. She was one of those who agreed with me when I said it was not my fault. As a kid I had learnt that at times saying sorry was the safest bet. In order to avoid conflicts I agreed to say sorry. It was then that I learnt this for life She came to me and very humbly asked if I genuinely felt sorry. " Are you out of your mind, of course not, you know I am not a party". "Then why do you want to make your conscience weak". Those words still echo in my mind. Sorry is such a small word, at times we do not even think twice before saying it. It has almost become a fad to say sorry and forget it. How many times do we actually mean it. More than that we just say it for the heck of saying. 

Today I realize this restraint has made me a stronger person. I do not say sorry now till the time I am sure I am at fault. Other way round, I do not even hesitate to accept my mistakes. Because I know what Sorry is all about. There is no fear, feeling of subservience or inferiority when I accept my mistakes. In fact it has made me more magnanimous in ignoring others' mistakes. 

The lesson has had far reaching impact on me. I am a more strong, accomodating and confident person now. I know accepting mistakes is tough job and hence take utmost care not to repeat it. I have learnt never to say SORRY without being at fault.

Thank you Vriti.

I am sure all of us had similar expereinces. Why not add to these lessons and make this a learning chain. After all it is never too late to learn. What say!!!

The Weak Planner

Before writing anything else, I want to shout at the top of my voice- AIR INDIA SUCKS AND I HATEEEE IT.

This week was one of the most depressing that I could reminisce. Even before the week began my two day  leave long planned for one of my close colleagues' wedding stood cancelled. The air tickets had looongg been booked and were non refundable. I had sooo wanted to be a part of the ceremony in Chandigarh. The flight was Tuesday Night and I am talking of Monday Morning.

Evening I get the favour through a mail - I can go, rather I must go. (Please read- the breed called boss) Period. I am not submissive either. I have a colleague's ticket still on and decide to maintain that.

This is Tuesday. Late evening I get a call from the concerned person who was supposed to travel saying somehow his tickets also stand cancelled and he cannot go (Why/ How is all together a different story. Demeaning the party is not my objective). It is compulsive for one of us to go. I frantically call the person and ask him to arrange for some mode of transport of which we can share the cost. I get a curt reply saying no.

My eyes are brimming with tears now over the helplessness and dejection. I am panicking big time because wedding is the next day and the tickets are costing me a fortune. I spend three hours on phone working out the cheapest combination. Finally I get them done. But I am torn between gifting my parents the much awaited holiday or attending the wedding. I settle on the later for reasons obvious. I spent one entire night reconciling my balance sheet where the debits overshoot the credit by half a lakh.   

Wednesday morning I pack hastily and leave for the airport. The entire journey went unevetnful as my thoughts were stuck on the mathematical figure. I reach late evening. My colleague is elated to see me. The feeling is mutual and so for the moment the pain is gone and the entire ordeal seems successful.

Thursday morning after bidding her off to the groom's house I take the hour long cab to Baddi where my Aunt lives. Gorge on some good breakfast as I had missed my meals the last day...one due to anguish and the other amidst all excitement.

Afternoon I reach the airport settled a bit in the mind only to be told by the security that my tickets are for 13th and it was 12th that day. WTF....sorry, did not have a better exclamation than that. I plead the guards to help me out. They permit me in on humanitarian grounds and advice me to talk to AIR INDIA MANAGER ON DUTY. Yes, this is where the second fiasco starts. My flight to Delhi and on to Ahmedabad were both AIR INDIA. The manager is magnanimous to accomodate my preponement but cautions me that this arrangement was only till Delhi. He cannot guarantee the DEL- AMD confirmation. I call up my Travel Agent and vent my doubled up temper on him. I am not used to being snapped by people at fault. He plainly replies saying he cannot help at the given point of time. Roger....the tears brim up again.

By the time I board the flight I am exhausted and mentally drained. I can hardly keep my eyes open. I try my level best to stay awake but doze off god knows when. I am startled by the whimpering of a kid and wake up. Flight was to land at 4 and it is 4.15. Lost, I ask the air hostess who confirms we will land shortly. I am getting worried big time because my next flight (if i am lucky) is at 6.50.  I suddenly start feeling giddy, weak and sick. I want to throw up badly. I was the last one to get out of my flight despite the urgency cause I can barely stand. Under normal circumstances I would have surrendered to the air hostesses on board pleading them to somehow seat me in my next flight. But no, I have to arrange for my tickets. For those who have seen the Delhi Airport, it is massive. There is a good amount of distance between the domestic and international transfers. The AIR INDIA Team ensures I traverse the entire port at least twice for whatsoever reasons. They also see to it that I am handled in the most rude and unprofessional manner on display.  I am willing to pay, I am struggling to be calm and polite. I experiment all grandma's ways to counter rising temper.

Finally at 6 sharp I reach my stipulated gate all dog tired and feeling miserable. I locate a coffee point and gulp down two extra large cold coffees in one go to keep me awake and sane. " It is to inform all passengers that the AI 010 to Ahmedabad will be delayed by an hour and will now depart at 7.50" If I were dying that day that was the last nail in my coffin. I told my neighbour to wake me up when the flight arrives and close my eyes for some peace. Once on board I have someone else sitting on my seat. I seek help from the air hostess. The AI hostessess are all the age of my mothers minus the compassion and warmth. I tell one to wake me up on landing. Big Momma retaliates it is not her job. Oops the Maharaja!!! I forgot.

Hair and Their

What is the worst comment you could have ever received!! Think,.think, what..... you can't remember, SURPRISING. I believe the source of such negative comments should be flayed alive. Please listen to this before you form an opinion about me. A close colleague of mine today whilst we were in the middle of an interesting conversation pops out the most horrifying statement my ears would ever be subjected to. She said,"What is it with your hair style. It seems to resemble Sanjay Dutt so closely these days." I snapped an instant SHUT UP, and carried on the conversation like nothing had happened. But the comment infuriated me the entire day. So what if she were a good friend, so what if I had given her the liberty to pick up on me, so what if I have made some nasty remarks on her clothes choice in the past, truth always hurts. And this time it stuck like a poisoned arrow straight on my left.

The ever so conscious woman I am, I lost no time in rushing to the parlour for a hair session. I chose the best parlour in town to get my hair done. My seething soul could be comforted by nothing less than a compliment from the same source on the same subject. 

I enter the parlour and ask for the an expert in short hair. I judge the expertise of my stylist by the hair he/she keeps. This guy (I would call him BARBER hereon, you will know the reason soon) had hair the shape of a hive. They were such a curly mass as if it were handpicked and dumped on his head to rust forever there.  I chided myself for being judgemental. However the moment he rolled the scissor in my hair, I knew today and atleast a month straight I will have bad hair days. What came out was nothing Halle berry or Gul panag but if it has to be a star..........it was Salman khan of tere naam. Very confidently the barber asks me," Do you want me to dry your hair." Equally confident I shoot back, " Niether am I shooting for a shower scene, nor is your salon short of dryers." I am sure he got the sting cause he revenged it on my already ruined hair.

By the time I reversed my car I had tears in my eyes and had checked my hair in the rear view mirror a number close to the oldest person on earth. My ears were ringing with the sequel of the day's comment. I heard somewhere Sanjay Dutt and Salman Khan are close friends.

For the barber, I wish the salon would stop picking their so called stylists from under the old favorite Banyan Tree.

I am still furious.

Pain, how I know it

Today the pain is bad again. I have been through this before but that was long back. I thought I had conquered it. But no, it is as vulnerable, as fragile as a ligament, needs to be tended for life. I was trying the hit formula - pain shared is pain halved. To my dismay it doubled up, all those memories came flooding back. Endless nights of pillow sobbing, days of brooding, I thought had cured me of the ill. But no, it was always there, waiting for me to get weak.

I never talked of it because I thought it was silly to bring it up again and again. I was assured with years of endurance I had become emotionally and physically strong. Now when I look back I think confrontation would not have been a bad idea. It could have been a outlet for all that is simmering in. One major reason why I could not encroach the territory was I felt weak and timid. I was afraid I would relent and portray myself as a looser. I was wrong. Draining the dirt out is a viable option always.

Pain can be all sorts and colors. Emotional, physical, mental, all increasingly worse. They are differentiated by the cure, physical pain can be cured. Emotional needs you to cure it. It is more a matter of trial and error. Not necessary one tip fits all.

I am still lurking without success. The pain of letting go is scariest. Even the happy memories will make you sad. All one can do is keep evading till time shadows it. Ridding oneself of Pain is a lifetime engagement.

Nonetheless I am not a quitter either.