Embracing Unemployment

As i wore my khakhi uniform for the last time, a mixture of emotions went through my mind. Insecurity - cause it was going to be an end to my independence. Sadness -  cause I was going to miss the familiar routine of the past eight years. Blankness - cause I was fully not convinced my decision of giving up my job was right. Although for everyone else the decision was quite obvious and right, I couldn't get myself to nod in agreement. My doctor would always tell me to take one day at a time and not to think far, perhaps it was one such moment.
I still remember the moment I was handed in my offer letter. It was placement time, the 27th of December. After a tiresome routine of written test, group discussion and three rounds of interviews, my friends and I gathered at Sharavathi mess. Around eight pm I received a call from the placement office to inform me I was placed. My friend still tells me it was one of the brightest smiles he has ever seen. That was a wonderful beginning to eight years of passion. Every moment of which I am going to miss.
Those never ending days that dragged into twilight. The silly fights in front of our management and the maturity that came from it. The midnight tea at mahindra city. Those calls with Germans and Chinese that we half understood and the moments in madras tamil over mute button. The humiliation that came from failure and the strength to stand in front that I drew from it. The happiness that came from success and the humbleness I learnt to put my team always in front. The friends I made and soft yet strong shoulders that were always beside me. Those illegal pizzas and lunch outs. Sherlock Holmes and Avengers in particular. The carrom & badminton games that I won and how I always sucked at tennicoit yet enrolled. The team around me and how we could almost agree upon decisions. Well almost. Our boss and the independence he gave us to experiment and fail. And stand by.
The passion that I developed since we were always delivering something new, something for the first time. The first assembly out of our line. The first invoice. The dream that came true to see a BMW car being assembled. The constant pressure for perfection. The ability to talk in terms of single digit ppms and achieve it. How it felt to realise the true sense of fool-proof. Our leadership team that kept nudging us forward. Cause we were willing to be pushed. How can I not mention the whining - every year on appraisal time. And yet continue to complete eight years.
As I tap this blog into my phone, I hear a trinkle. I follow it and there is a bright toothless smile trying to make a sound. I note the drool that drips from his mouth and look for a towel to wipe it off and he holds my finger tight with his miniscule ones. I instantly forget everything else and for a moment I think.
Perhaps my decision would be worth it.
Cheers,
Hopie

My story : the last part

After our second IVF failed, we got completely immersed in work. We needed our minds to be fully occupied so we didn't have the time to fret. It was a different phase of our lives - trying to overcome the agony. As I tore one more page in our calendar, it showed June. I would be turning 30 in a couple of days. Fear and uncertainty gripped me, but I kept my faith for October that year. Came July and for the fourth time in the last eight months I had a delayed period. Defining me as annoyed would be a subtle expression. The routine was simple. I would go to our doctor, he would prescribe the pregnancy test. The single line would slap me hard across the face and he would give me tablets for my period to come. I would decide to start the tablet from the next day and as faithful as ever my period would come that night. I tried going for check ups at different days but yet the result was same. Oh and no matter what I would NOT take the pregnancy test at home.
It was the fourteenth of July and we decide to go for check up. Prem didn't get a parking slot, it was a Monday morning, 9a.m, so I tell him to go for work and I would go straight to work from the hospital. It was meaningless to waste two man days. I didn't have an appointment that day and I knew the wait would be endless. I sat opposite to our doctors cabin fidgeting with my BlackBerry. It was three p.m. when my turn came. Or rather there was no one else left and I was the only one in the entire area. He looked at me and prescribed the pregnancy test. I asked him why did he have to put me through this although he very well knew what the result would be. He gave me the usual we'll - never - know, smiled charmingly, and dismissed me. I get the kit and hand it over to a nurse. She would perform the test. I gave her my sample and look away for I knew what would come. Although I had gone through the routine an infinite number of times, each time was painful. "Mam I'm going to start the test...". My heart started to pound. Silly humane naive me. No i wouldn't look come what. In ten seconds the nurse smiles and looks at me. "I think it is positive..." she said. And I looked down. The second line indeed glowed at me and I smiled back as bright as ever, my eyes welled up. My breath started to pace and I didnt know what to tell her. I muttered a thank you so much and try to walk back to the empty iron sofa. Whom should I call first? How should I tell Prem? A myriad thoughts. As I reached the sofa, it was clear to me. I sat down and placed my bags aside. I covered my face with my palm, the tears that refused to cease. I wiped my face, calmed myself, closed my eyes and clasped my hands. Thank you God.
What happened after that was a long story that ended well which I dont want to write about. I don't want to write about the 59 days of captivity. Or the 56 days of struggle that would remain within me, my pillow that held my tears, the walls of the NICU, the god sent people all around me thanks to whom, our warriors are here today. Thanks to whom I can see them smile every moment, nurture them, manhandle them, and look ahead. The 56 days would remain in my heart, each day still afresh. If this is a lesson that HE wished to teach me how to be thankful, I learnt it well. If not, i'm still seeking...
Cheers,
Hopie

Hospital chronicles : karvendhan & supriya : escape from 505

She was trapped by a sorceress in the top most room of the tallest tower. Although she was well fed, the room was dark with her longing for home. It was her destiny. She always dreamt of that day her knight would come and her rescue her. It seemed long lost. He would come by, riding his horse,  faithfully day after day uttering those sweet words. But he had to go back by night fall for the sorceress would return. Dark magic was her specialty and he knew for sure his sword would fall a prey to it. She trusted him and hoped that soon enough her dream would come true. Soon enough she knew the sorceress would be away for two days and she begged him to take her away. It was after sunset and there was no sign of her knight. With tears drenching her unkempt hair she curled into a corner. The sun would have risen she calculated. The door creaked and there stood her knight in shining armour. Without any thoughts she walked to him. He took her in his arms and climbed down the spiral staircase. He was always used to climbing those steep steps. Soon after they stepped outside the tower, sunlight blinded her. He looked at how her skin glistened and instantly knew she was carrying his glow inside her. Riding a horseback was no longer an option and he called his flying chariot. As they waited she looked at him, her eyes emitting fire. Was it the sunlight that did this to her, he wondered while she opened her mouth to speak. "For God's sake, will you stop dreaming or shall I drive?". He laughed and switched the ignition on. They were going home.
Cheers,
Hopie