Saturday, 27 December 2014

The-Just-Started-Working Tales

I think many of you would be able to relate to this particular post from the title itself. First of all, apologies for the radio silence. My dog got bitten and operated, I re-watched all of Friends (queries for all the seasons shall be entertained), went cuckoo over Game of Thrones, and spent a couple of days in literary bliss reading The Silkworm (J.K Rowling's newest). So you see, I've been pretty busy.

Back to the topic then. So I'm even busier now, as you can see, having just started my job. Just kidding, this is one of the rare free moments and I felt the yen for writing coming on. Starting work is definitely liberating in several dimensions, like you earn your own money and a few lucky ones like me get to save almost all of it, living at home. But you get pissed and pissed on nice and proper too.

First and foremost, the parentals. Especially if you have a job with no ending time. With weekends working, which is often the case here. Where the initiation party involves a farmhouse, lots of alcohol and a pool. Does not bode too well for the caretakers. Your mother starts missing you like you've gone away on holiday. And don't even get me started on driving back late at night, or in the rain. Everything from sending the driver to self pick up will be suggested. (They love me too much, so not complaining :P)

And then, there are the people you deal with on a daily basis. I'm not talking about my colleagues, who are really awesome (wink, to those who end up reading this). I'm talking of those horrific mental cases who feel that just because they give your company money for a service, they own YOU. If I had a rupee for everytime I've felt like kicking said idiot's ass, I'd be a very very rich woman.

So you see, there's a fact you should know about me. I really am not very good at the multitasking thing. So I end up ignoring a lot of people, simply because my job involves being in people's faces all day long, and I'd probably scream like a lunatic if I have to look at my phone once more. (Sorry, guys).

One of the worst and best parts of being in a Sales role is visiting any mall/shop/kiosk thereafter, and knowing exactly what tactic that salesperson would use to hook you. You end up grinning in a resigned, and rather superior manner. Horrifyingly, that's probably what most people think when they meet us. You also develop a kinship with the Vodafone and Airtel sales people, but mostly to criticise their cold-calling skills. Really, could they BE any more disinterested? Also, you end up knowing the bank holidays better than your own calender, develop a mastery at making cheques and lately, swiping cards. :P

But most importantly, you develop a thick skin. Which has been a perk for me. I'm known to break into tears at the drop of a hat, and I've really caught myself crying less. Though my chocolate consumption has gone up, because for me dorky client= stuffing my face with a huge piece of cake. (Self-serving logic)

Do comment below with your just-started-work experiences!

Ciao!






Am I enough?

For the past couple of months, whenever I remembered I had promised myself I'd be regular at writing something or the other on this blog, I'd sit to pen down something. Sometimes, the words would flow, but the flow was a little too personal for me to share. Ironic, isn't it, having a blog, yet being reticent to share?

Going back to the title of this post. Am I enough? It's one of those existential questions that plagues each one of us at some point or the other. I'll be honest. I think about this precisely once a week, when some stone ripples the calm surface of things.

I grew up with big dreams. And I was always encouraged to take them forward. Somewhere along the line, I retained an overall passion for those bigger things, but lost that intense fire that had fuelled my ambitions. I began having new dreams. New fires that are still burning bright.

Every now and then, I think back and reflect whether I was too hasty in giving those dreams up. What did I get scared off? People do those big things in much harder circumstances.

And that's when I got it. It's all got to do with what those "people" are doing. I remember, in college during placements, people would Oooh and Aah over those who got the cushy consultancy jobs, the huge packages. I was a part of the crowd that Ooh'd and Aah'd. But isn't it high time we give ourselves a break and figure out what's the best path for us? Just because "people" can do it, doesn't necessarily mean you can, or even should have to.

Most days, I'm happy. I have a great job, colleagues who are more like friends and an awesome-sauce work atmosphere. But every now  and then I get to know what X or Y is doing. Working and running an internet business. Or organizing marathons. Or taking dance classes. And I struggle. To find that one thing I do so well, that I can turn it into a business. Do something EXTRA. I very simply forget what I as a person am capable of, and start using others' achievements as my own yardstick. Very simply, I suck at multitasking and would probably end up botching the one or both things completely. Why is this fact about myself so hard to accept at times?

And this is something that I alone don't go through. There are people everywhere, who are unhappy in their jobs, who compromise because it's a "short-term" thing. People who keep giving these half-brained competitive exams (the necessary-evils is what I call them) just to get into the school of "people's choice". Look for the ultimate goal in life. Look for something that makes you happy. Something that evokes passion and emotion and screams of delight and failure alike.

I wake up everyday, looking to find something that I'd be that crazy about. Something that I'd want to live, breathe, eat and sleep. Because that's the only thing that makes me happy. That kind of unbridled passion. Everything else, is interim. Am I enough? I am. 

Saturday, 12 April 2014

#TheKochiDiaries

It's funny how this trip even came to be. I'd been whining about the fact that I'd been to more places abroad than within my own country, and how I was missing out on immense opportunities for cultural enrichment, because of my family's fixation with Jaipur and Agra.

And then, comes this amazing phone call. My cousin brother was all set to get married, and guess where? KOCHI. It was to be just a registrar marriage, which for us Punjabis is like no shaadi at all, to hell with it all being legal. And though the call was more on informational grounds than invitational, my mother's amazing brain whirred, and there we were, our bags packed for what were to be 3 amazing days in the land of the Gods.

Our journey began super early in the morning, early enough for my Bua and Dada to be having an indepth discussion about the various problems of "clearing"(read, defecating) at 4 AM. I, with my young metabolism and digestion, looked superior throughout said conversation.

After 5 hours of flying and several airplane selfies, we finally landed at Kochi airport, which is BEAUTIFUL. The architecture is simulatneously colonial and Kairali, a juxtaposition of austere and welcoming. However, that did not detract from the WAVES of heat, practically bowling us over. This place was 10 times hotter than Delhi, which at that time was experiencing "gentle, pleasing weather with light wind and rains". Another one and a half hours of driving was ahead of us before we reached our destination- Fort Kochi.

Fort Kochi is THE place to be in when one visits Kochi. For one, all the touristy attractions of Kochi are practically walking distance, save the backwaters trip. And second, it is amazingly picturesque, with all its Boutique hotels and proximity to the beaches. And luckily for us, we were putting up at one of the most beautiful places in all of Kochi- the Naval Mess, which apart from being built right along the shoreline, also boasts a private beach and some of the tastiest food I've ever eaten.

Autorickshaws are the preferred mode of transport in Kochi, not counting the weirdly awesome window-less buses, as we discovered when we set out to explore the Fort Kochi area.
                                                   Our first stop was David Hall, which is a cafe-cum-art gallery. You will find a lot of such places in Kochi, with most of them serving fresh homemade
food, with the freshest ingredients they can get their hands on.








A visit to Kochi is incomplete without visiting the Chinese Fishing Nets and the Vasco Da Gama church, popping into the Boutique Hotels along the way. These hotels are amazingly pretty, homely and bursting with unique flavor. Le Colonial, one of the most select boutique hotels, where one can be paying upto INR 18,000 per night in season, is run by an aristrocratic French couple, who incidently own an island off the coast of France too. Each piece of artwork in the hotel is an original from Christie's or Sotheby's, valued at millions of dollars a piece and all in keeping with the colonial theme of the hotel. However, my personal favorite was The Old Harbor Hotel. Visiting this hotel is like stepping into an arsty, kitchsy wonderland. And the amazing food didn't hurt too.



And when one talks of Kochi, how can one forget the Backwaters trip? A lovely woven cane boat, with chairs that could give La-Z-boys a run for their money, and the complete silence... it was my idea of heaven. Not to mention the numerous stops along the way, whence they show you the roap-making cooperatives and how to make fresh Toddy, the local beer-like liqour, only twice as potent, made from fresh baby coconut sap which is allowed to ferment over the day, which means you will get progressively drunker with every sip.

The highlight of this amazing trip for me was the traditional Kerala meal, served on banana leaves and amazingly light and healthy. The Reception party for the newly married couple (remember, I said I'd gone for a wedding? :P) was held at the house, I should actually say mansion, of one Chucco and her German partner(whose name I can't remember for the life of me), owners of Malabar House, the first boutique Hotel in Kochi. The house had its own deck, decorated with twinlkly lights. And yes, the buffet did serve the Kairali delicacy of one WHOLE huge ass fish. As we danced late into the night, it did feel like the end that such an amazing trip deserved.





My verdict: GO VISIT KOCHI NOW. Its beauty, the warmth of the people, the slow pace of life, the pleasure of just strolling down Jew Street, or buying kilos of spices at the Spice Bazaar, and even indulging in the sinful chocolate cake at one of the cafes, is unparalleled.

Thursday, 10 April 2014

So it's pretty much a given that I'm a part of the Magical World of Harry Potter, in my head of course. Cross me and I'd curse you, and trust me when I say, I pretty much know them all. Hit me up on Quizup if you don't believe me.

I've been wanting to do this since forever, but procrastination is always easier. But the fact that I'm almost a week away from turning 21, and also the teensy fact that I get submerged in a flood of shame every time I read really cool shiz that people my age are blogging, have finally broken through the shackles of laziness that bind me, and here it is. My very own Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love.

It's a slightly cheesy name, but needless to say, I LOVE IT. Not only because it underlines my association with Harry Potter (read, Maniacal Love For), but also because I soppily and sappily believe in the tremendous power of love. For it is love that makes us truly happy (#100HappyDays), and really gives us the strength to face the day. It all sounds terribly cliched, but I've always said- Cliches are cliches for a reason.

So this is me, Mansi (yeah, I introduce myself at the END of my post), Economics Graduate-to-be from Shri Ram College of Commerce (mentioning that becomes an occupational hazard), self-proclaimed bookworm, widely proclaimed foodie, crazy-about-marketing-and-pretty boxes, inviting you all to be a part of this journey I want to start, and hope to stick to.

See you next post. :D