Monday, December 3, 2007

Hi, howz it goin?

The thing common to all my work-related fronts over the years has been a studied smile and a vibrant "Hi!" that I have had to put up every single morning, at every corner, every corridor, every coffee corner, every cafeteria I have visited. Yes, I am at work. I live in a social world. But then I am supposed to be working. Am I not at liberty to concentrate, in my very own way? I like to look at the cracks in the ground, even talking to them. I like to stand in a coffee line staring at nothing but the coffee, thinking about the tasks I need to wrap up in the next hour or so. But behold, there will come that perfectly timed "Hi" from the perfectly unwelcome colleague at that very moment.

He will come along merrily, finding the perfect day, march right upto me and say, "Hi! Howz it goin?". "Very good, thanks. And you?", is usually my customarily polite reply. Now this is when it gets tricky. There are two paths from here. From my grim look and tone, a normal human being would shy away, leaving me to sulk with my coffee. But usually the people I refer to are made of sterner stuff. They can draw you into some conversation thread effortlessly. By the time the conversation is over, I feel like heading home, with the end-of-the-work-day kind of feel.

"So did you watch the game last night?", pat comes the question back. I want to bolt. But somehow it never is feasible. There is someone else at the next corner. All escape doors are locked.

"Er, um...no.", I murmur. He knew very well I don't watch basketball.

"So...I heard you guys have a team lunch lined up."

"Um...sorry, I don't remember. Need to check my calendar again".

"You are not married are you?". The guy smiles dangerously. At this point I have my coffee half raised to pour it on his head. You know you are dead duck at this point. There is no escape. Worse still, he is going to walk with you all the way back to your work area, right up the ten floors in the elevator. OMG.

"Ah, I understand...a girlfriend problem huh?", he continues, as I wear a weird mixture of a startled deer and a constipated kangaroo kind of a look. Much as I want to say something, all I can manage is silence. You pray and wish the silence works. But most often it only encourages the intruder. "You know what dude, these women are the same. You gotta treat your car and your woman right...It is all about the cat and the string theory". Right. That was precisely what I needed to know first thing on Monday morning. These are the pearls of wisdom that will help my work week, help us launch the product on time and save the world.

Nerves frayed already, strangling the coffee cup, my muscles taut, my brain aching, I begin to think of very strange things at such junctures - like how beautiful it must be to see this rodent stranded in outer space, orbiting some planet that died a zillion years ago with a tyrannosaurus tied to his pelvis. Admittedly it is a fascinating experience. You the reader might think I am a sad puppy, a tired soul, a dreadfully boring workoholic, but you know what, on Mondays I couldn't care less. You have a dazed smile on your face, an opponent chatting away and hell-bent on destroying you and you cooking up his worst possible punishments, while nodding away, well, like nodding was what you were born to do. Nod away to glory and you shall see my point of view. Someday. Alright.

At moments like this I wish and wish I had worked from home. The walk back to my work area is equally treacherous. At every step you will meet a person who you hardly know or want to know. But there has to be the quick exchange of plesantaries: the "Hi" followed by the "smile". My facial muscles ache by the time I land in the safe comfort of my chair. There are a thousand tasks pending, but I have conveniently forgotten what project I have been working on...

And you know what, I hate weekends. I know most people love their weekends. I dread them. The number of "Hey, how waz your weekend?" questions I have to repeatedly answer on Mondays makes me want to stay put sick at home. Mondays are holy for me. They are meant and meant for work alone. And that is the way I like it. It is me, my work and my brooding over my first hot cuppa in the early morning. No "Hi's", thank you.

But hey that is my goddamn problem.

To you: "Hi! Howz it goin"?

2 comments:

Deepika said...

Believe me, my eye-brow muscles had some exercise to do while i was scrolling through your blog; they just remained in that risen arch-like position n just wont drop!! Gosh! u have an amazing sense of constructing sentences in a novel manner. Even the simple ones look great enough. I actually intended to comment on every one of your post but i am running out of time, so i'll make up for everything in this single comment.
Sherlock Holmes post was good n surprisingly even i remember the same ''ineffable twaddle'' thing above all. The vignette about Canada n its landscape, reminded me of the movie Tum Bin n Howz it goin just reflects how hackeneyed a life we are living.........but i think all good confabulations start with these little pleasantries, so it should not be that irritating i guess.
So kudos to your way of presentation.

Anand S said...

Deepika, thanks for the very encouraging words. You are kind and do me more honor than I deserve :-)
But sure am glad you liked it. If even one person had a good time rummaging through such "ineffable twaddle", I guess the purpose of the blog was well served. Thanks again!