He'd often look out of the window and notice the blueness of the sky, and the occasional clouds. 'It's mid June already, and still no rains!,' he thought, as he continued to hear his boss's boss's boss, a short fat guy in his 50's, blabber tons of theoretical bullshit about making customers' interests the utmost priority and the driving force behind whatever they did. He met the guy once, along with the others in his team in Pune. The meeting was totally forgettable except for all the hassle it took to reach office. He got late for that meeting - which is supposed to be a big deal when it's with your boss's boss's boss. But he said to himself - what the fuck! I'm going to resign soon anyway. That was about 6 months back.
His resignation email was lying in drafts for over a year now, and in his mind for over 2 years now. Although all his previous jobs were shitty, this one was a few times shittier than the earlier ones. Or is it just that the grass is greener everywhere else? His motivation levels had never been this low. It was as if he was hurting his own position in the company, but he couldn't help it. He would deny taking up new work pretending to be busy or giving some shitty reason for as long as he could manage; and for what he was doing, he would only do the bare minimum, enough to get things moving and not be shouted at. And it was visible to everybody. He was like this disinterested burden on the company waiting to be kicked out some day, and until then earning his pay one day at a time. Some days were indeed happy and exciting - when he had the right kind of people and/or work to make him enjoy whatever he did. But that was rare.
Working days, generally, were endless hours of sitting in a corner at home and staring at the laptop screen. Work from home - which may be a blessing for some people, only made his life more lonely and boring. His colleagues were all names, sometimes images, and voices. He had his earphones permanently on - for calls on Skype. Email, chat, Excel, PowerPoint, names and voices - together they made the office he worked in. Inside that little box called the laptop, there existed all the pressure, targets, deadlines, stress, personalities, emotions, politics and lots of meaningless shit. And he was supposed to sit online all day and endure all that. He found it funny that the company often did sessions to educate employees on the harmful effects of sitting at the same place for hours - they said it's equivalent to smoking many cigarettes per day. It's like a pimp telling a prostitute that fucking strangers is bad, and yet demanding that she make more money, get more clients, make them happy knowing fully well that it cannot be done without fucking strangers.
Not that he liked surviving this way. He felt guilty each moment he spent without doing anything of any value. And each time he got his salary, it made him melt with shame because he knew he didn't deserve most of it. His mind was continuously trying to figure out what he wanted to do and then try to plan for it. And it's been doing that for the past 19 years, and yet it could never conclude on anything. What's my passion? He had started to lose hope of finding his true goal and the path that would lead him there. The future had started looking dark and even the present looked hazy. There was nothing to make him stand up every morning and go. Do I need a guru? Do I need a break? Am I over thinking? Why can't I just focus on my job and carry on until the search for my goal gets over? Is that possible? How are others able to do it? Why is my responsibility towards my family not motivating me enough? What's wrong with me? He understood deep down that a lot of others he knew had similar feelings inside. And he was sure it didn't pain others to the same degree as it did him, as it's very natural that not all are hurt equally bad nor are hurting equally bad.
He would often recall the lines by Harivanshrai Bacchan...
मदिरालय जाने को घर से चलता है पीनेवला,
'किस पथ से जाऊँ?' असमंजस में है वह भोलाभाला,
अलग-अलग पथ बतलाते सब पर मैं यह बतलाता हूँ -
'राह पकड़ तू एक चला चल, पा जाएगा मधुशाला।'
मदिरालय जाने को घर से चलता है पीनेवला,
'किस पथ से जाऊँ?' असमंजस में है वह भोलाभाला,
अलग-अलग पथ बतलाते सब पर मैं यह बतलाता हूँ -
'राह पकड़ तू एक चला चल, पा जाएगा मधुशाला।'
... but fails to feel hopeful and excited. It says take a path, any path, and go ahead - it'll take you to your destination of bliss. But he still fails to see meaning in the path he's walking on at the moment. He therefore decides to continue his search, hoping that something he's doing, or will do, will take him to where he needs to be to be happy. Hoping this walking on firm ground will some day elevate him enough to reach for the mysteries beyond the sky.
The call ended with the boss's boss's boss asking if anybody had questions. Nobody did, as usual. He glanced at the sky again, after quite some time actually - he was really lost in some world of thoughts. It got all cloudy in the meanwhile, and as he was disconnecting the call to head for his tea break at the nearby tapri, it started pouring. He loved rains!
The call ended with the boss's boss's boss asking if anybody had questions. Nobody did, as usual. He glanced at the sky again, after quite some time actually - he was really lost in some world of thoughts. It got all cloudy in the meanwhile, and as he was disconnecting the call to head for his tea break at the nearby tapri, it started pouring. He loved rains!