[I] SEEK NO MOKSHA

I’m going to be very clear and straight. I hate Gurgaon. In the eight months that I have spent in the corporate, and here, a devil has taken over the most integral part of me. I have stopped thinking about us – my people. I have stopped caring; I have become indifferent and cold. It’s like a machine running my conscience.

There’s a reason I call this machine a devil. It’s because of an unforgiving behavior like that of quicksand. Your fight to excel inevitably becomes your struggle to survive. You cannot dare take a friend’s hand or you’ll drag him in too.

To me it seems like a classic case of giving up. People come here from places that taught them to care, cherish what they had. But the hunger for success and climbing the ladder becomes so primary, that they stop wanting to care. The tendency of going back home every weekend dies out eventually. Maybe because we’re cold, maybe because after a 5(6) day week, we calculate that spending time, money, energy and morality at the local sports bar is more profitable than the shackles of mumma’s love that is bound to make you look weak when you don’t want to leave heaven for hell, but its Sunday night already.

You want to throw up on this thought. You try to make Friday (Saturday) nights at Howzzat! /TGIF/CTC look like fun nights. You make yourself agree that you’re having the best times of your life because you’d rather be wrong and happy than alone. When in fact, this is the best..err.. The only thing you’ve got.

Last night after very minor resistance from my end, she left the place.
If I were in Chandigarh, I can bet my balls, I’d never have let that happen. Now I realize I have no remorse. I like that I snuffed the old me and had a great time. The point is I never, for the whole night, thought how she must have felt on driving back home alone (hell, she didn’t even know the way back!), what she went through facing her dad who had clearly stated if she was to come back, she better not be alone.
I just focused on my share of the fun.

If I say it wasn’t me, but the devil that is Gurgaon/Corporate, it’ll be no better than the time Ross tugged his weenie between his legs and cried, “Mommy I’m a girl! Take me with you!”

The stars have set on that feeling of temporary joy as I like to call it. Single Serving Joy, if you ask Chuck ‘The Cult’ Palahniuk. You look at your soul. Fluid. The color of water. And now I can say I’ve been there. The devil is so well rooted now, that you are addicted to the pain. What you’ll never do is, make an effort to uproot this phenomenon. Because that would not be routine. And you could get late for office. And then you’d have to stay longer than the stipulated 3 hour overtime that pays zilch. Which means you’ll be late for the Friday nights or maybe not even make it at all.

Now that’s a terrifying thought. You miss your only high point of the week, where you get to have fun at the cost of a friend’s. So basically, don’t try to get off road, carefree, childlike and pure. It’s like Rock music. You may deem it to be the crudest form of expression; it’ll always stay a symphony of the bad guy up there.

I’ll get to the point I made in the beginning. All this text is about me. 90 percent of the sentences start with an ‘I’. That’s what Gurgaon does to you. What corporate does to you.
Oh wait, Should I tug my weenie between my inner thighs and scream now?

The good thing that has come out of all this is that I have finally promised people around that I’ll deliver better, on time and with the minimum damage possible.

I am hopeful. Are you?

Posted by The Acid Tongue |