The February that was..

February had been cool climate wise, but logic took a back seat. Our annual office party was held outdoors, at a hotel by the beach. To be honest, I am not a fan of office parties. We have weekends to take a break from all those people we see every day, right? Oh well. Events were organized at least two weeks in advance, thus giving the ladies ample time to think things through. As the event drew closer, my interest to show up at this party hit rock bottom.

Even as I opened my wardrobe two hours after we were supposed to be at the venue, I did not search for anything new or party type. I wore something mediocre and paired it with pointed heels to add a punch. I should have thought this through. Colleagues who don’t give a damn during daytime wouldn’t care about me- forget my shoes at an evening party.

 To my surprise people seemed to be having a real good time with some spectacular events happening on the stage. I made myself comfortable in a place where I could see the people who usually sends emails with death threats as attachments during daytime. Out of the blue, they called all ladies near the stage area for a promotional Zumba. As I started walking, I realized that I have achieved new levels of dumbness. I wore pointed heels to an outdoor lawn party. With every step I dug into the soil with the heels and pulled it out for the next. I realized I was walking like a damn duck. Finally I made it to the stage and took the heels off when the Zumba started. However it was impossible even after to be seated and I had to walk around several times each time digging holes and pulling back. Basically I ploughed the entire party lawn thanks to sartorial sense combined with intelligence.

February had more in store. My housemaid left to India in early Jan and she gave me a temporary replacement in her absence. Miss Temporary had a temper and zero regard for time. Also Miss Temporary behaved like I stole from her ancestral property. 

Image Courtesy: Here

So by end of January, realizing that some people are alive only because murder is illegal, I broke up with her unceremoniously over SMS. Instead I found another person who came all of February three times a week and did a good job without talking too much. However on the 29^th, he told me that his earlier boss wanted him back. Basically he dumped me. However he was polite enough to console me and said that he will check whether he can find someone who can help. I wiped my face and agreed between sobs.

The first of March had been an extremely busy day at work but I admit I was not a productive employee. I had just been dumped the previous day and I couldn’t begin to contemplate how the days ahead would be. Cleaning the house! The very thought of doing that by myself made be exhausted. The whole day went by and there was no progress in the maid hunting front. On the second of March post lunch, my phone rang. It was my old housemaid who had returned from India! She is back!

My joy knew no bounds. I have not been so happy in years.  However I suppressed my happiness and politely welcomed her back, but I was actually jumping around in joy. March has just begun. It has started on a good note.

I hope there will be no unpaid ploughing or break ups this month. 

The semi-private existence.

Of late, the newest thing that has caught my confusion-prone mind is friend requests from Facebook.  To begin with, my spouse and I having worked together at multiple organizations gave us, like 782 mutual friends. Facebook has thus bound us with its own virtual strings, that if he adds someone new, Facebook urges me to add that person as well.  Apparently, Facebook algorithms are so old-school that it doesn’t understand people can have friends, their significant others may not know. I mean jeez ...grow up, you! If he uploads a picture, Facebook pesters me to like it. Basically, Facebook wants us to be together, more than ourselves and our parents. I hate to break this to you, but being a programmer I doubt that rule one of Facebook algorithm could be ‘what God has joined together let app not separate’.

Image Courtesy: Here

When I was single and there was Orkut, new friend requests from cute strangers were like being asked out on a blind date. I visited that person’s profile, showed it off to my friends (if cute) and once done, clicked ‘Remove and block’. Even as a youngster and till date, rule one of my social media existence is to connect with people I already know. I never logged in to meet any stranger because my life is already crowded. Putting up with relatives and friends itself is exhausting I cannot take further shit coming from strangers.

This blog attracts a fair amount of friend requests from strangers, which I deny because people who read my blog have my page to connect. Then there are friend requests that come with attached strings – mutual friends. When I get a friend request with a mutual friend backing, this can slightly mar my peace of mind. To add or not to add? If it is a female, then mostly it is no issue because women hardly add me (they wait for me to add them). Problem is when it is a male I have mutual friends with. My imagination runs so wild until I start thinking; does this man think I am the type of girl who will add anybody that sends me a request? I know I have gone too far, but let me be frank here, I think that. The answer to this question lies in the click of the button which says ‘Remove request’. I answer my own weird questions. The bottom line is, I suffer from a condition, in which I want to look social but in reality I am not. (This hurts)

Some of my friends say that they add people if they can find mutual friends with that person. Mutual friends are like recommendations from previous employer. It could be a phone number or address that does not exist. May be these mutual friends added this person for the same reason. Once I found an anonymous phone number on one of my whatsapp girl groups for which I am the admin and none of the members knew whose number it was! Creepy, isn’t it? There shouldn’t be so many strangers in the world, I tell you. Being a semi-private person on social media literally sucks.

So what is meant by ‘semi-private’ you ask? It is a condition in which one posts a picture with a public setting and also blocks the strangers liking it.

Love and Laughter !

It is the season of love and essentially, one of Karan Johar. The day couples celebrate their love only to update every single detail on Facebook and flood Instagram servers. Single people need not worry; you can watch Kabhie Khushi Kabhie Gham on TV because for you, it is about loving your parents.

Image courtesy: Here

I had an unceremonious, rough ride of a romance. So, everything mushy and sweet annoys me and makes me sound like having a sour grape syndrome. It all started in year 2006. I was a fresher and so was he, and we fatefully joined as trainees in the same software firm. Cliché alert- we started off as friends. Soon we started texting and the more we got to know each other, the more we repelled. The fights we had were so bitter that we sent each other hateful messages. Eventually we became stone-hearted and bitter. Days went by.

One day, our employer decided to throw us a party. The restaurant was at least 45 minutes from home. Who cares about reaching home on time when there is free six course buffet meal? At the party I noticed my male buddy-turned-enemy chilling with his friends, having beers and acting like he was having the time of his life. My girl buddies saw it too, but did not discuss about it as my expressions were threatening enough to shut them up.

Time passed. I was getting increasingly intolerant at the sight of this guy partying hard after pissing me off so badly over sms. I convinced my friends that we should eat fast and get the hell out of that place ASAP. They agreed as it was already around 8:30 p.m. This was the time my parents were likely to go to the nearest police station and register a missing case with my photo(which they probably took to upload in Bharat Matrimony).

As soon as we finished eating one of my girl buddies and I walked to the washroom. As we stood there admiring ourselves in the mirror, HE walked in, gave us a weird look and proceeded to the loo. We were flabbergasted.

Me: ‘I cannot believe I even thought of befriending this guy! Look how shamelessly he walked into the ladies washroom! Did you see that look he gave us?’

Girl Buddy: ‘I KNOW’ !

Me: ‘This time he has definitely crossed the line! What an irresponsible CREEP! Jesus Christ!’

We exited the washroom in total disgust and burning with rage. Outside, our friends were waiting near the gate.

Me: ‘When did you all go to the washroom?’

They: ‘Where were you? We dint see you either..’

I turned and pointed to the washroom I just exited from, on which was written ‘GENTS’.

Somewhere inside me, my ego was burning to death. My friend who accompanied me to that washroom looked at me in horror. Others were obviously laughing their asses off. However it remained a well-kept secret even after I started dating the same guy who pissed me off so hard.  

We got married in 2008.

Later, as newlyweds we went to a friend’s wedding reception.

Me: ‘Going to washroom. Here, keep my phone’.

He: ‘For once, try going to the one written ‘LADIES’ ’.

 This post is a part of #LoveAndLaughter activity at BlogAdda in association with Caratlane.

How well do you know a Programmer ?

 

Image Courtesy: Here

If someone genuinely asks me what I do for a living I politely dismiss that conversation by saying ‘Software’. This response is so generic that it is like asking me what I had for breakfast and I say ‘Food’. Most people do not ask further questions or prompt me to get into details because who has the time for that, right?  Yes, there are exceptions when a random curious George wants to know exactly what I do. In such scenarios, I humbly reveal that I am a programmer. I get an ‘Oh wow’ or mildly appreciative looks from guys and ‘You Bitch’ looks from ladies. It makes me feel intelligent. I like that feeling. I never had this feeling when I was a student due to obvious reasons, so it is special.

Programmers are NOT nerds and our lives do not suck like it is perceived widely. I mean we are not as hot as the ones you saw in the movie ‘The Matrix’. No, I did not understand any part of that movie but we don’t wear leather body suits and kill people like they did. If you have a programmer friend here are some things you may want to know.

• A programmer never does the same type of work more than once. Every scenario and logic is different. Hence, they get easily bored unless something or someone is very spontaneous and exciting. We hate anything that is mundane.

• There is no rule book for any programming language. If an extra space or worse, a dot is typed into the code, the program gets pissed and throws errors as if we broke up with it. We handle super-sensitive tantrum throwing humans with ease.

• A programmer analyzes codes; they are hawk-eyed by default. They read between the lines. If you plan to date a programmer, pay attention to macroscopic details. Bro, she is going to find that stain on your shirt, unkempt nails and unpolished shoe and judge you on the first sight.

• They apply logic not only in their codes but also in their lives. No programmer ever got hitched to a politician.

• Programmers get mad when they are required to change a code that was already written and tested. We don’t like change.

• Once a program is saved without errors it creates a version in the system. So, if we don’t murder you even after you show your true colors, you have successfully created a version with us and you are special, my friend, truly special.

• Programmers have debugged a lot of errors, so they know all typical error types. This applies to human beings too. We never forget. If the programmer in question is a woman, then God help you.

• Writing a program requires patience and passion. We cannot hate our job and write a logically correct program at the same time. We are driven by passion. We don’t write a single line of code just for fun.

• Programmers have dealt with a lot of major disasters which were a result of trivial errors. Do not mess with us. We have the experience of deleting entire programs and make it look like it dint exist.

If you piss off a programmer, just know that what follows will be a CODE RED situation.

Hit ESCAPE !