My new workplace has this interesting concept, where they lower the temperature on the floor to near-freezing, whenever our western counterparts come in. I wrote about when it happened the last time and here I am writing about it again. And before you go ‘Pshaw! Get some new stuff to say already lady!’ I will warn you, that smart folks would not look at this as repetition and understand, that reiteration means emphasis.
Anyhow, I have a new theory around it. Maybe, the idea isn’t the assumption that the westerners prefer colder work environments. Maybe it’s just that since they have come from frozen zones of the planet at this time of the year, the folks just want to ensure that they don’t enviously hate us as we scamper around in our sleeveless tops and skirts without leggings, and so, they freeze the place. I mean, it’s either that, or that we have this uncanny need to project our Bhartiya Sabhyata to the outsiders, and the only they can make the women dress modestly is by scaring them with threats of hypothermia.Maybe. Because, I have to tell you, it’s working. And after spending the morning almost being roasted to death by the Hyderabad sun, in my summery, white sleeveless shirt, I am now dressed like a freaking Eskimo, to avoid being frozen to death instead.
Which brings me to the Hyderabad sun, which is currently in its element, bringing forth the bitchiness like never before. Where ‘never before’ is actually an incorrect phrase because the Hyderabad sun is always this horrible, except for this one month starting in late December when it takes a break to sort of refuel and re-attack with the same viciousness. In short, its back and how. The mornings, thankfully aren’t as bad yet, and one can actually still manage to sit in the balcony for a good 15 minutes. It also helps that the Balcony faces west. Which is perfect for someone who will never have the pleasure of being in the balcony during the evenings, to actually feel the sun because that’s how life works in this industry.
This industry also means travel that I mentioned in the last post. I will be visiting Dubai for the first time, because I have only seen in while taking off and landing in the past. Dubai is the best transit airport, with its maze of Duty free stalls you can spend hours looking through. It is also where we restock on the good alcohol (cue to the spammy trolls consistently sharing links of how alcohol ruins life, you are welcome) and chocolates. Dubai is also the first foreign airport I visited the first time I traveled abroad (London, Circa 2007), and marveled at how it looked like a posh railway station because (I kid you not) there were folks sleeping on the floor amidst the ruckus. So, I will have just 4 days I will spend there, all working, and so I doubt I will have time to do the mandatory touristy gawking, though I think I will make time to see the Burj because I have a thing for the biggest/tallest/first/last kind of hyped stuff. And atleast step into that famous Dubai shopping mall because I owe to my shopaholic self, though my middle class self will ensure I will not spend a rupee (or Dirham).
Other than that, and general pondering over life’s little mysteries, also a common phenomena some people call a midlife crisis, things are the same. As we grow older, things we ruminate about undergo a major paradigm shift. And if you have been blogging for as long as I have, it just takes a glance at the older posts to confirm this. What else explains whole posts about how much Placecomm sucks and how the juniors are being a pain? When all I think about now (assuming thoughts do turn into blog posts, and you don’t get distracted while posting and talk about the traffic instead) is what I am doing with my life and more importantly is this what I should be doing with my life and how do I ensure I do what I really want in life because you only live once or Zindagi na milegi dobara Oh My God Zoya Akhtar movies really do make so much sense.
But unfortunately, life doesn’t. Which is why I need to get back to doing what I am meant to be doing instead of spending time talking about things that matter more. Like the temperature on my floor; which by the way – still as annoying as before.