Happy birthday Fatty!

She’s a big poseur, btw

First, this silly woman made me invent the word frolleague (friend + colleague), because she refused to accept that she’s my colleague and nothing else. Now, I have another word for what we’ve got, because she hates ‘frolleague’ also. The word is fromance. Like bromance. Because she pretty much thinks of me as her boyfriend, gets annoyed with me at the drop of a hat, and sends me hate mails and messages, or, when she’s extremely pleased with me, a few kissing smileys.

Her name is Nuvena Rajendran. But you can call her Nuvs. She hates that too.

It’s her birthday today, and as always, this is my budget way of giving her a birthday gift. (I buy you too many things,  Nuvena. I don’t think I have any money left to buy you a fancy gift now.)

I remember the first time I saw her at work. She had come to office to take the copy test and finish her interview. She sat at a desk, brightly grinning at everyone who walked past her. I had joined office just a month before her, in June. I was just walking to the pantry for lunch, and she looked at me, made eye contact and gave me a harassed smile. I didn’t know she had already worked with TOI for two years. I smiled a kind, elderly smile back at her, thinking like a smartass, “Oh this newbie is taking the test now. Been there, done that. Don’t you worry, child. You’ll get through.”

Now, this idiot is my biggest motivation to go to work. When she wasn’t there for 15 days, when she went to the Himalayas, it felt like she’d been gone for six months. I sent her a message on every single one of those days on Whatsapp. It didn’t bother me that the message didn’t reach her or that she didn’t reply. I just had to tell her that day’s quota of news. All those 15 days, the office seemed so empty and dull. Even Zoya would just go stand by Nuvena’s chair, and say, “I miss this clown.” And then Nuvena came back, with that ridiculous tan, looking like a “burnt cutlet,” thus spreading bursts of laughter and happiness all over again.

You see, Nuvena is the go-to person at work for everyone, and there isn’t one person who isn’t good friends with her. I always wonder how she gets all the inside stories from all corners. Somehow, when you look at her, you’ll want to talk and tell her the whole truth. Even if you don’t, she’ll get it out of you anyway. That’s how compelling a force she is. It’s been the HARDEST thing for me to not tell her about the birthday gift Iv’e been working on for her. We actually speak to each other over the phone on the days we have our offs, all through the day and once in the night. See why I said I’m pretty much like her boyfriend?

But she also gets restless when I don’t talk to her. See?

This is Nuvena trying to get me to talk to her

At office, all our things are mixed up. I’ll find my nail file or comb at her desk and she’ll find me wearing her clothes every other day. We love to make our desks pretty (well, she makes it pretty with silly pink stuff and I make it awesome with Arsenal posters). We both have tiny potted plants on our desks. They were both hers; I stole one. We both drink green tea out of the same mug every morning. We both use Hero ink pens. We both- ok you get the point! There are so many things that we have mixed up, that it’s hard to tell which one is whose. She’s like the similar-aged sister that I never had. Besides, like my sister, she is one of the few people who gets ALL my jokes and remarks and laughs her heart out at them. (Most other people get the jokes but don’t laugh at them. :-/ )

The strange thing is, I’ve never gotten so close to someone in the span of just a few months, by just working with them. (It’s a different case with the ACJ girls because I lived with them.) You know, Nuvena sent me this meme a few months ago, and I hate to admit it, because she’ll go all around town rattling about it, but I feel the same way about her.

She has so many best friends, it kind of annoys me that she might be as close or closer to someone else. She obviously is closer to Karthik and Alwar and others, but that irritates me. : P I don’t know where that possessive bit comes from and it’s weird. It’s not like Nuvena is my only best friend. (No, Nuvena, you’re not! : P) This has always been a problem with me. Uttara was always my best friend, and then Supriya entered my life and I had no clue how to pick best friends. For a long time, I was torn apart and constantly playing Life Jacket with myself. (Life Jacket is where you are stranded in the ocean and can save only one person with your spare life jacket. Basically, it’s a who-do-you-like-better game.) Obviously I could never pick, and when I became intelligent enough, I realised I can have more than one best friend. And now, Nuvena falls into that category. You’re really lucky to get that status Nuvena.  And you didn’t even have to go through any friendship tests! (In fact, you kinda failed it by ratting out to others about me resigning.)

Ok, I’m straying from the topic. So last year, on her birthday, she brought us all mousse from Coffee Day and distributed it. None of us knew it was her birthday, because she had just joined. This year, however, the demanding person that she is, she has reminded us every single day of this month about her birthday, with a countdown. My mum and dad are shocked because I’ve never done so much for anyone’s birthday. Well, I suppose it works for her to be demanding.

So if you want to meet a person who finds happiness is the smallest of things, Nuvena is your girl! She is one of the most selfless people I know, who won’t give a rat’s ass about herself and will do things just to see you smile. I can’t imagine how many times she has said, “Leave it dude. I’ll do it,” no matter what it is! She’s someone whom you can always rely upon to help you out, cover up for you or simply make your day when you’re angry. Oh and she’ll also irritate the hell out of you and piss you off if you’re a little too happy (or maybe she just does that to me, because this morning I learnt that she is mean to people she likes. It’s not very nice to be liked by her.)

So through this happy birthday post, I just want to say, thank you for existing, Nuvena. Whether you’re in my my life, or in someone else’s life, I know you’re busy making those around you happy. The world needs more people like you (mostly because people like you read my blog without fail and love it).

Life at Deccan Chronicle would never be the same without you! So here’s to you, and many more years for us to work or just chill together. Don’t worry, I’ll employ you in my future company. : D

Happy birthday ya, fatty!

I’m still not going to say “love you” n all. Be happy with this much. Bah!

Cheers,
Swathi

PS: You’re 26. It’s high time you started liking animals.

Here’s to the end of a grand, memorable era

So my dad retired yesterday, after working for 36 years at BHEL. That’s 60 per cent of his life.  

Just married retired!

There was a grand function at his factory yesterday, a send off party. Four other people retired along with him. There were 200 people in the hall to send them off. People went up on stage to say nice things about the retirees. I think more than 20 people spoke, with words of praise for all the 60-year-old retirees there. 

 

My handsome appa 

Yes, 60. The retirement age. I still can’t believe my dad is 60. He can easily pass off as a 35-year-old, with his lean mean physique and jet black hair. Save for the greying moustache, nothing can give away his age. I don’t think he believes he’s 60 either. Recently in April, he had an angioplasty. Everyone was mighty surprised about it, because my dad has always been the healthiest guy around. He tirelessly works from 6 in the morning to 9 in the evening, and by work, I don’t mean sit lazily in front of a computer. I mean physical work. He worked at a factory that manufactures porcelain. He worked in the Quality department there, so he had to test everything, life heavy things and move about a lot. His colleagues said he can’t be replaced. “Ramesh is Quality. Quality is Ramesh,” one of them said, while speaking about him on stage.

The audience at the function was offered the chance to go up on stage and talk about my dad. Despite ten people already having spoken about my dad, a girl a couple of years older than me went up to the dais. Her name was Jaya. She was an apprentice under my dad and worked at BHEL for a year. During that year, my dad encouraged her mentally and financially to go ahead and study whatever she wanted, and now, she’s working at Indian Space Research Organisation. My dad’s eyes were wet by the time she finished her speech.

I thought, shouldn’t I go up and say a few words? But just one thought was chewing my head off that time.
How on earth does anyone stay with one company for 36 years? 
Even my mother, for that matter, has been with Accountant General’s office for around 30 years.

It’s just hard for me to digest. I’ve been at my institution for just one year and three months and I’m already thinking of quitting. Well, if not seriously, it’s just there somewhere at the back of my head that soon I’ll get bored of this and must find something more intriguing to do. My dad was also up on stage yesterday. “Don’t bother whether you’re given promotion or not,” he said to the younger employees. “What matters most is job satisfaction and I thank BHEL for having given me that all these years,” he concluded, and the audience applauded with rapture.

I think I have the most dedicated and loyal parents. And it’s not just when it comes to work. They are loyal to their friends (they’ve had the same best friends since school and beginning of work), committed to each other with all their lives and love their children to bits, and all this in a very non-intrusive, held-back way. I find it so hard to find that balance between being dedicated to something with all your heart and being unhealthily obsessed with it. And my parents have effortlessly achieved that balance. Clearly, I have a lot to learn from them.

I’m guessing the not-overly-obsessed bit is what’s going to help my dad, now that he has no more factory work. I’ve known him to leave home at 8, come in between at 12, go back and come again at 4:30, pick up my mom and come back at 6, and go to the garage and come home at 9, ever since I was born, literally! His entire life for the past 36 years has revolved around factory work. It’s going to be hard for me, him and everyone around us to get used to the fact that the BHEL phase is over. At least for a month, I’m sure I’m going to wake up at 9 thinking appa has already left to work. Funnily, it seems like it’s not just my father who has retired, but all of us, who have bid goodbye to a habitual lifestyle that had an impact on all daily lives until now. 

A picture from his retirement day

I can’t tell you how proud Sunayana, amma and I are of you appa. We love showing off to everyone that YOU are the first man in our lives. We are lucky to have you with us, when everyone wishes they can have you in their lives forever. I don’t know what we did to deserve you, but we did something right! 

Hope you don’t ever change appa. 

Love you to bits. 

Happy retired life. 

It’s all about loving yourself

Someone told me the other day that if you wear a t-shirt all the time, it means you don’t care about yourself. It was one of those mindless “assess your personality through your clothes” things like this. (Because that’s the best way to go about judging a person’s personality apparently.)

Does this seriously look like someone who doesn’t care about herself? I look incredibly awesome. Like an anime, I’ve been told. B-) (Thank you Sneha.)

Anyway, just because I wear tshirts and jeans and sneakers all the time, it doesn’t mean I don’t care about myself. In fact, a few people would laugh if you said “Swathi doesn’t care about herself.” I can imagine Nuvena laughing already. She is the one who gifted me a Mephobia print out to pin up on my desk. I might have mentioned it before. Mephobia is the fear of becoming so awesome that the world can’t handle it and it explodes. Or something to that effect.

Apparently, if you wear tight fitting tops and jeggings, you are narcissistic. (Or you just think you’re thin, whether you are or aren’t.)

Ok I’m not talking about clothes in this blog post. I don’t care about clothes. I care about myself. Err… I mean, I’m going to tackle the subject of loving oneself. (Adjusts glasses and clears throat.)

A lot of my friends rant to me about how disappointed with life, that they are not talented enough, that work isn’t rewarding, that people are leaving them all the time, that they are single and haven’t found boyfriends/girlfriends, that their spouses don’t give them any attention, or that they’re just lonely and sad. Actually, nobody rants directly to me because I don’t give anyone bhaav when they do all this. I usually ask them to put a sock in it, in the politest manner. So yeah, they don’t come back to me. But you know, issues like this get thrown about in friend circles, about who is depressed and who is happy and whose boyfriend is cheating on whom and whose marriage broke up. (Because we all live in Gossip Girl-like lives.)

Anyway, I think the problem with all these people is that they don’t love themselves…enough. If you love yourself, nothing can really put you down because you do everything in your own interest. Also, if you love yourself, you won’t expect anything from others, so you can keep yourself happy all the time! So there’s no scene of being sad about anything – not anything to do with other people at least. {I’m a selective misanthrope. (Coined the term myself, thank you). So I have to find my way to go about being happy when I’m surrounded by humans all the time.}

But loving yourself comes with a few clauses.

There’s a very thin line between loving yourself and being selfish. When you love yourself, you have to make sure you give others, your friends, family, etc as much love. It’s not all about you. That’s where most people go wrong and end up caring only about themselves. Don’t isolate the love. Spread it all around. Can you imagine having jam only in one corner of your bread sandwich? Ew no! Spread it evenly. That’s the right way to go about it. (Whattey metaphor I say!)

Also, you can tell from how a person expresses love for himself, whether he’s a selfish jerk, or whether he genuinely loves himself and everyone around him. At least from my experience, I understand that if a person is always speaking ill of others, dismissing others opinions and feelings, and thinks his way is the right way, then he’s taking the wrong route. He probably doesn’t love himself at all. He is probably convincing himself that at least someone loves him, because nobody really does.

The best way to go about it, is be straightforward about it. In office, when I hand over an edited copy to my editor, who reads it again and finds zero errors, I’ll say “Wow! No errors? So cool!” (There are usually at least ten errors on an edited page.) I give myself that much liberty to praise myself, simply because I know I’m good. It’s going to cause no harm, save perhaps an amused look on my editor’s face. Everyone in my office thinks I’m narcissistic. However, that isn’t the right word to use. I just love myself.

My dad is another example about how to go about it. The world knows he loves himself. He loves having pictures of himself clicked. He’ll even tell you that he’s awesome and tell us stories about him being awesome in his childhood. That’s a healthy amount of love for oneself. At the same time, he’s also the most selfless person, helping other people at the drop of a hat, sympathising with everyone. Pretty much like my mum. She doesn’t expect anything from anyone. She’s such a peaceful, fun loving person, and I’m so much like her. She has just taught me the art of happiness in the most subtle manner.

That’s the thing. You have got to learn to be self sufficient. You have got to find a way to be subtle and loud about your love for yourself. You have got to find that balance. Then you’re set.

Because if you don’t love yourself, how can you expect others to love you?

PS: If you have noticed that I used too many brackets in this blog post, it’s because I learnt this today.