What I Wished For

I was one of the early proponents of flexible working hours/working from home, a decade and a half before 2020 coerced the whole world into accepting the norm-ready or not.

This was what I had been arguing for over the years. We shouldn’t be wasting so many hours commuting through the dreadful traffic. We could save so much of our productive time, energy and money. The environment could be saved from so many toxic fumes. The company could save on the real-estate cost.

While the whole world stood to gain, women trying to manage the home and jobs together, stood to gain the most. 

At home, I could do tasks in parallel. Run the washing machine while I reviewed a document. I did not have to settle for a maid who could come before 7:00 AM or schedule deliveries only over weekends. I would know what the kids were up to. And use the time I would have otherwise spent on commuting, in walking, chatting with friends, taking breaks. My life would be so much more convenient. 

Or so I thought.

Facts, I didn’t account for:

• Since I was working from home, and I was at home all the time, the corporate equation implied I could work all the time. And that took care of all the time I saved from commuting and some more.
• The convenient timings for the maid and cook ceased to be relevant when we had to ask them to stop coming altogether.
• The clothes would need to be dried after the washing machine completed its run. By that time work would have piled up higher than the clothes pile.
• The doorbell and the pressure cooker would follow Murphy’s law of ringing/whistling right when I had to unmute myself on client calls.
• With the whole family working from home, there would be always someone who would be hungry in between meals.
• For breaks, I would have to make my own coffee and clean the coffee maker too.

And a dozen other realities that are popping up everyday to remind me that I should have been very careful while wishing for this!

Quitting

Wishing everyone a Happy New Year! (I know it's almost mid-January but this is the first post of the year, so...)

Strange topic to being the year with. Yet, maybe this explains my absence from the blog for a long time. Does this mean more posts going forward? It means hope, definitely.

I have been in a bad work situation. And I kept getting a lot of motivational advice from genuine well wishers on trying harder, adjusting, accepting.

And then I read this article on how a frog is cooked in hot water. (Ugh! Don't know why anyone would want to do that, but that's besides the point here.) If a frog is dropped in hot water, it will jump out, create mayhem in the kitchen and bring the Master Chef audition video to an abrupt end.

However, if you increase the water temperature slowly, the frog will go through the stages of being mildly uncomfortable, restless but still drifting; more uncomfortable but still mobile; and then extremely uncomfortable and trying to jump out. Now it can't jump because it's muscles are wasted away and have lost their strength.

I see it happening to people around me, in work and personal life. The situation is bad-they adjust. It gets worse; they accept, they work harder, they change, they wait. The situation becomes unbearable; then some try to jump, but can't because the world outside has grown too different and daunting. Some don't even try because they are too numb to feel the pain, devoid of will, or courage, or hope. They accept and wait.

Are they wrong?

Should we jump at the slightest discomfort?

Then what will happen to all relationships/careers?

And won't it be like admitting we are losers, that we are not strong enough to stay and fight when so many others are fighting bigger battles around us? 
"Isn't it like running away," I asked a friend. "Yeah", she replied nonchalantly. Then she looked at me seriously and said "Sometimes, that's the smartest thing to do."

What if we leave it till it's too late? I couldn't figure out how to pin-point the defining moment when to stop accepting.

But I did realize one thing, I needed to jump before I lost belief in my own worth or hope.

Back

A special thank you to the few special people who are still reading my blog.

I had given up.

On one front, I had a tag around my neck, announcing I was a part of the rat race again-bringing with it the usual office drama, driving through Bangalore traffic, and coming back to kids' homework and class tests.
And on the other, it was the bindis and bangles, reminding me that it was "adjustment" time again.

But then there's nothing wrong with a bindi or bangles, isn't it? Just a tiny adjustment to keep the family happy?

Oh, but they are still unhappy over so many other things.
So I make few more little adjustments.
Don't wear what I want to.
Eat what I don't want to. Don't eat when I need to...
But then what's a little bit of acidity or some headaches when it comes to the family's happiness?

The family was however unhappy, because I slept when I wanted to.

How do I find the will or the space to think, feel, talk or write?
By counting the blessings that I have it so much better than so many other women?
After all, as so many other women rationalize, it is the family's happiness that matters. Doesn't it?

Yeah, but I fail to ensure that, once again!
And just got back to being myself.