The reasons that have propelled me to thoughtlessly quit jobs:
I am ill mannered when i am bored and want to quit. i rarely give notice, i pack my stuff most of the time and shoot out an email saying: "It was pleasant working with you but my interests have changed and i want to do blah blah blah. or just not be in your service." there are times when i have woken up from my sleep, switched on the comp and typed a resignation or on a weekend shopping spree, walked into a cafe and typed out and emailed it. I have done random things without thinking of what next; that is because next was thought of already in the sub-conscious, it was clawing on to me, so this decision.
1) My first assignment was with an NGO of sexual rights of lesbains : i went deep into the margins of a page, the oppressed women, who were not recognised in a country that criminalised alternative sexual practices. my friends were thrilled at the tought of two women making out- it wasn't their ultimate fantasy but definitely something they could wet themselves off.
However it was the time i was looking for real issues; discrimination, suicides, women under the patrichan shadow. however i realised there was less glory in my job: it consisted of theories, lectures, visiting colleges- talking to giggling, frowning girls about sister-hood, organising film festivals, watching cinema and arguing over 'is naked nude?'. The cream of all were the phone calls on the helplines - men calling to ask if it was a brothel, detailing their demands, calling to ask if their g.f's were like us as they didn't enjoy sex. brothers called to say that maybe their sister was different and needed help. Of course women called too and met up, shared pain and looked for newer partners. there were parties where women met, hung out and made out -- it was good, fun and the rest of it. But it wasn't my idea of working for an NGO: they were well off and unreal. It was a casual tusch, as i enrolled for M.A in eng lit.
2)This one was with a glossy and it was really a good place, however when you are full stomach, you think of philosophy and the emptiness of the black hole starts to nibble into your soul. i was bitten by karma; all the bitching and goss brought me into a magnetic field of promiscuity and negativity. So, I decided to get away from the superficial world of temporary make-shift beds to the rapidly growing world of corporate technology.
3) Clinical cold: is what i have associated this place with. Everybody dressed as if they were going to be featured in an English funeral. Thin bods with padded boobs and butts, men were perpetually clean shaven and i never saw what their forearms or napes. They came in with laptops and palmtops and spoke of money in the most abstract forms. They spoke more passionately about chips and models, programs and certain other friend's cousin's colleague who said something about some firm called Gear doing something more meaningful than counting the clicks. The funny part was that i never associated with them and those clicks were like TRP's or statistical records that meant ZERO to my thinking mind as they could be re-created to suit one's profits. What was more amusing, was that the boys and gurls knew about virtual Trojans' but never heard of the trojan horse or had any idea who Priam was.
i was loud and casual for them, they were fake and stuck-up for me; i was pissed as they pulled me up for not bring virgo- organised (Official OCD) to be even acceptable in their category- i was never good with documenting every job done in absolute detail. why? simply coz the amount of time required to do the typing is a little more than getting the next assignment started.
i goofed up, didn't keep the records and never bothered to give explanations. I maintained the attitude that my work was for the world to see and if they coulnt appreciate- they were blind. It wasn't the best experience of my life: it took away the essentials from my soul, made me look like a fool and i was one! i worked as if i owned the firm, as if if i didnt get the max i could for them, it would shut shop--- fact was that i didn't own it and it didnt shut shop, however it will someday! One afternoon's cold fury at a fashion assignment, after a commitment that was made and not respected compelled shoot a ' i want to quit for personal reasons email'. it got me into trouble, brought worse times for my family but it taught me more than what i had learnt from any work place.
In the aching, bitter, capitalist sense, it was a fantastic experience.
4) A compromise, interim ' there is nothing to do, so lets give into this' job. Part-time as i couldn't possibly sustain the week long nonsense of 'who fainted on the set and who walked out and what the celebs thought about rains and fans and all unimportant, unintelligent things' that were highlights and breaking news.
It was something that i hadn't decided to do till i spoke to Pork Sausages who remarked that everything was frivolous, even his aristocratic job. So i gave in, soon to realise that i should turn around and run... my bosses knew it. it took two non-responsive emails to drop in the news. He liked me a little too much, so he stood my me: scolded me over the phone, called me a teaser and a ditcher; accused himself for not making things interesting enough for me to stay on.
5) Clean and cluttered place reminded me of my second work place, young, relaxed and fun environment. the colleagues looked fun to be with. the best part was the inflexible timings and the work profile: exhaustive and creative and filled with learning.
Its been a year and a half since i started working; here is where i am now: how long- god decides!
From here – where to is the toughest and the most fascinating question of my life.
I am ill mannered when i am bored and want to quit. i rarely give notice, i pack my stuff most of the time and shoot out an email saying: "It was pleasant working with you but my interests have changed and i want to do blah blah blah. or just not be in your service." there are times when i have woken up from my sleep, switched on the comp and typed a resignation or on a weekend shopping spree, walked into a cafe and typed out and emailed it. I have done random things without thinking of what next; that is because next was thought of already in the sub-conscious, it was clawing on to me, so this decision.
1) My first assignment was with an NGO of sexual rights of lesbains : i went deep into the margins of a page, the oppressed women, who were not recognised in a country that criminalised alternative sexual practices. my friends were thrilled at the tought of two women making out- it wasn't their ultimate fantasy but definitely something they could wet themselves off.
However it was the time i was looking for real issues; discrimination, suicides, women under the patrichan shadow. however i realised there was less glory in my job: it consisted of theories, lectures, visiting colleges- talking to giggling, frowning girls about sister-hood, organising film festivals, watching cinema and arguing over 'is naked nude?'. The cream of all were the phone calls on the helplines - men calling to ask if it was a brothel, detailing their demands, calling to ask if their g.f's were like us as they didn't enjoy sex. brothers called to say that maybe their sister was different and needed help. Of course women called too and met up, shared pain and looked for newer partners. there were parties where women met, hung out and made out -- it was good, fun and the rest of it. But it wasn't my idea of working for an NGO: they were well off and unreal. It was a casual tusch, as i enrolled for M.A in eng lit.
2)This one was with a glossy and it was really a good place, however when you are full stomach, you think of philosophy and the emptiness of the black hole starts to nibble into your soul. i was bitten by karma; all the bitching and goss brought me into a magnetic field of promiscuity and negativity. So, I decided to get away from the superficial world of temporary make-shift beds to the rapidly growing world of corporate technology.
3) Clinical cold: is what i have associated this place with. Everybody dressed as if they were going to be featured in an English funeral. Thin bods with padded boobs and butts, men were perpetually clean shaven and i never saw what their forearms or napes. They came in with laptops and palmtops and spoke of money in the most abstract forms. They spoke more passionately about chips and models, programs and certain other friend's cousin's colleague who said something about some firm called Gear doing something more meaningful than counting the clicks. The funny part was that i never associated with them and those clicks were like TRP's or statistical records that meant ZERO to my thinking mind as they could be re-created to suit one's profits. What was more amusing, was that the boys and gurls knew about virtual Trojans' but never heard of the trojan horse or had any idea who Priam was.
i was loud and casual for them, they were fake and stuck-up for me; i was pissed as they pulled me up for not bring virgo- organised (Official OCD) to be even acceptable in their category- i was never good with documenting every job done in absolute detail. why? simply coz the amount of time required to do the typing is a little more than getting the next assignment started.
i goofed up, didn't keep the records and never bothered to give explanations. I maintained the attitude that my work was for the world to see and if they coulnt appreciate- they were blind. It wasn't the best experience of my life: it took away the essentials from my soul, made me look like a fool and i was one! i worked as if i owned the firm, as if if i didnt get the max i could for them, it would shut shop--- fact was that i didn't own it and it didnt shut shop, however it will someday! One afternoon's cold fury at a fashion assignment, after a commitment that was made and not respected compelled shoot a ' i want to quit for personal reasons email'. it got me into trouble, brought worse times for my family but it taught me more than what i had learnt from any work place.
In the aching, bitter, capitalist sense, it was a fantastic experience.
4) A compromise, interim ' there is nothing to do, so lets give into this' job. Part-time as i couldn't possibly sustain the week long nonsense of 'who fainted on the set and who walked out and what the celebs thought about rains and fans and all unimportant, unintelligent things' that were highlights and breaking news.
It was something that i hadn't decided to do till i spoke to Pork Sausages who remarked that everything was frivolous, even his aristocratic job. So i gave in, soon to realise that i should turn around and run... my bosses knew it. it took two non-responsive emails to drop in the news. He liked me a little too much, so he stood my me: scolded me over the phone, called me a teaser and a ditcher; accused himself for not making things interesting enough for me to stay on.
5) Clean and cluttered place reminded me of my second work place, young, relaxed and fun environment. the colleagues looked fun to be with. the best part was the inflexible timings and the work profile: exhaustive and creative and filled with learning.
Its been a year and a half since i started working; here is where i am now: how long- god decides!
From here – where to is the toughest and the most fascinating question of my life.
