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