Campus 2 Corporate

The sun used to rise with me, but there were days when I didn't even see the sun light. Now, I sit here in this garden. As always being very specific about my seat, I chose a bench that gave me the least view of humans, because I am myself disturbed and I am in no mood to see more around me. In the garden, I see an open piece of land between checkered slabs, planted with saplings which are supposed to catch up quickly in this season. And to my shock most of them are dried, with dropped leaves and drooped branches, lifeless and ready to be plucked out and replaced. A few though, are vibrant with life and full of energy, probably, by draining others’ of their assets. Oh, yes, the corporate culture.  

If a bunch of strangers are made to have lunch together for a few years, they may end up either friends or enemies. But if a bunch of professionals are put in the same situation, they end up with a relation that is a little more than anonymity and a lot less than familiarity. Here, we can make very few friends and lose many more. Yes, I have experienced. There will be a variety of awkward situations, one ends up saying thanks to the same person he/she said sorry a few minutes ago, smiling at the same person one shouted on the previous day, and an eternal cold war. Even after having Corporate Culture's rules and manners neatly scraped everywhere in the office campus, I see people who use the time during meetings more effectively by browsing what lingers in their mouths post-lunch and picking noses, of course their own. The first half of the corporate life goes in understanding what is expected of you and the second half goes in digesting the same.

Simply, what appears weird to me and unique to people already settled here, is put into a phrase “Corporate Culture”.

Life was different back then, when I was not a part of this so called culture. The thoughts in my mind ran like this.

In spite of having a cell phone and novel always in my hands, I still had place to hold an ice cream on the way back home from college. Now I have both my hands free but no energy. I used to love rain, but not now. Because the only way I can enjoy it now, is through a glass window. I am brought into an understanding that I will be no more in a presentable way now here, if I enjoy rain in my own way.   

I feel every job on the way to my present-destination seems more than right for me. I see in people’s eyes the love for their job. A gardener cuts grass with utmost care, a soldier loves a country more than himself, a doctor cares for others’ life just like his own, a salesman explains the beauty of the product, making people realize having it would be a wonderful feeling.

I see many stars in my office, many more stars than one can see in the sky. Here is how it happens, the always-on lights on the ceiling of the office gets reflected in the few fortunate glass-panes which are unveiled of their shutters.

Everyone thinks, I am waiting to cross the road, but actually I want to cross the road, break the rules, change the juvenile society, climb the ladder and reach out to the sky, the sky with actual stars.

The mosquitoes remind me of the dirt I can write about, the crowd reminds of population, the traffic about pollution, huge buildings about so-called development, but here I am surrounded by things about which I can only rant about, but not write.

VERSATILE WINDOW

Window reminds me of my childhood days. In every person I see outside the window, I see myself. I see a 2- year old cute kid sitting on dad s bike, a 5-year old girl on the way to school, a 10-year child trying to ride a bicycle, a 15-year old unstably walking teenager, a tired-of-life expression on a woman s face and loads of traffic and pollution, of course.

As there is a Green House Effect, a Butterfly Effect, The Raman Effect, so there is a Window Effect which we have seen in “Chudalani Undi“. As Indian movies have not left anything untouched, so did they touch the concept of window in “Padosan”. There by, making it emphatic enough to be the reason for love.

Every other thing and every other person I see outside the window grabs my attention, confirming that the child in me is still alive though the human in me is dead long ago. Many times I feel the time should stop or at least hope the cab should a bit slow. The time may go slow or sometimes may even stop, but the cab does neither of them.

Some eyes meet with mine and continue till the scene passes. The language of eyes is esoteric, not all know it. I try to figure out the story in those eyes, the hidden meaning, the tired look, the reason for smile (FYI the world has changed; now even for smiling we need a reason). But few eyes just have a blank expression, leaving me in confusion whether my boring life spreads just through my sight, even without my physical presence?

Looking at some scenes outside the window I regret for not being there, may be I regret for being here. Seeing outside through the window, which protects me from the sun and the rain, I feel I am blessed, blessed for the pressure that’s putting up inside me. May be the outsiders are better blessed than I am. After all drenching in rain is better than drenching in sweat because of stress.

Only the stupidest miss a chance to open the window. It puts me to sleep in a way which even the night needs to learn. The view a window gives of a movie poster, neither does the promo nor does the movie itself.

Even though the life outside appears moving, it is we who are actually moving, moving with the speed of light, not knowing the barriers that lay ahead.

An open window can heal anything. The cool breeze from the window sweeps away the tired expressions from my face. As I pass the air blows coolly at some places and hotly at others, just like my mood this too is unstable. It is not mistake of the breeze (not mine too) but of the surroundings.

The view from a skyscraper shows all other beings smaller, giving you the pseudo superiority complex from its muchiness. People compare broken heart with broken glass, as if a complete glass resembles a happy heart. May be the one who phrased this thought felt human heart is as transparent as the glass. But we all know what the truth is.

The cleaners of these windows hang from great heights trying to clean an imperfect 3-inch thick, unbreakable glass, making the lilliput life outside clear and blurring my own life.  I can see the trees moving, but the wind can’t reach me, I can see people laughing, but the sound can’t reach me, I can it raining outside, but the drops can’t reach me, I can see kids dancing, but the music can’t reach me (that is why I call it imperfect), may be it is me who can’t reach out to them (may be the imperfect is I am).

While the window of the cab shows a lively life, the window of this skyscraper shows a stagnant life. The life I see outside the window of a vehicle is what I miss in a glass-paned building and in my own life because my mind is shut in an opaque window.

The Unfollowed Feature Of Fraternity

Fraternity is one of the most important, yet the least followed features of Indian Democracy. This may be one of the oldest and the most sensitive topics and discussed newly again every other day. I don’t need a reason to write about it. That doesn’t mean I don’t have one.

The Constitution itself contradicts. It says all are equal and all can express what they feel. What everyone wants to express is “I am above you”, neglecting the first and following the latter. Elaborating, the Constitution gives the Freedom Of Expression to Indian citizens, but forgot to define the ambit of expression. Hatred being one among such feelings that can be expressed. And feelings do clash. Whatever may be the problem, why all of us blame the government? Why does it always rotate around the government? There are many things we do just for our self-satisfaction. However, coming back to Freedom Of Expression, the government treats everyone equally. But as per the Indian tendency people put themselves on the top (We are next to no one). It is said that too much freedom is not too good. But here even this limited freedom is doing no good.

This is our absolute foolishness to believe that we can stop public scathing in a country where we can’t even stop the public disposal of waste (I mean all kinds of waste). The method government adopted to teach people how to enlarge their bladders, to improve their ability to control the inevitable rush and to maintain cleanliness at the areas which are on the verge of becoming urea deposits, is to stick religious posters at the affected areas. The posters idea is just a precaution but not the solution. Here is why, generally people go to specialists to get the stains on their teeth removed and here in Indian Democracy people purchase the stains on teeth in the form of 2X4 inches shining silver packet. They turn this enjoyment into criticism by spitting on the posters of religions, other than their own. They call it the magic in the mouth, Gutkha. The Google describes, “After gutkha is consumed, it is generally spat onto a wall or at the ground, causing an unsightly red stain that is quite resistant to the elements. Some building owners have taken to combating this unpleasantness by painting murals of gods on their walls, with the idea that gutkha chewers would not spit on a god.” This attitude may be vague, but the intension is clear. One suggestion to all those guys, if you really want to spit, do it on the political party flags that hang every other step you take.

According to a famous quote, the human species is made up of seven billion subspecies each consisting of one specimen. These subspecies got themselves divided further into groups called “Religions”. You are never alone in this society. Irrespective of whether you right or wrong there is always a gang supporting you and opposing the saying, “If two are thinking alike, then someone is not thinking”. And so, the religious communities came into picture. These communities have old, experienced men as well as youngsters vulnerable enough to be exploited and ready to light their soul with the spirit of religious chauvinism. These people don’t have their own identity and they are trying to make an impact on other s lives through religion. Why does the government permit to establish religious communities? Why do people attend the debates conducted by these communities?  To prove their religion great? No, but to prove other religions are not great enough. During these so-called-debates people go wild enough to abuse the others, ignoring what actually is expected of them. How can one comment on other religions without following them?  There are only questions no answers, just one simple word Chauvinism. Respecting ones own religion, traditions and culture is so very obvious. Even a dog does that. Respecting everyone else around us is what is called Humanity and that is what that differentiates us from animals.

For all these people I would like to recommend Bombay, the magical movie released in 1995. I would like to show them the Dargah s amidst the Temples, the rituals in which people be a part irrespective of their religion like Deewali, Moharram, Christmas, Holi., I feel the necessity to show them the Temple, the mosque and the Church that lay side by side in a colony (I am not sure of the colony name, Near Bicha Reddy Sweets) in BHEL. Just the below picture helps you, rather helps me make few people understand better .

The Ganesha Temple and The Masjid side-by-side in Secundrabad.

A Muslim woman making her son dress up as Lord Krishna

A more lively example would be the below link. It is the article published in The Hindu ( It’s a newspaper name in this context, not religion)

http://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/tp-national/tp-andhrapradesh/article2375059.ece

People know fraternity by name, but not the meaning. They may know meaning through dictionary, but not in real life. May have experienced in real life, but not outside the family. May have experienced outside, but only through friends. But the percentage may be very very less. But however “We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But the ocean would be less of that missing drop.” Let there be no dearth of such drops in the ocean. And the responsibility is our hands.

The Universal Problem