The reason I have been mulling over starting a blog for ever so long, is at an attempt to be more than my job. I am an urban designer / architect by profession, and I realized that my job is slowly defining who I am. I don’t have too many friends who are not in the profession, or who work outside my office. The occasional time we get together outside the work place, we end up having animated discussions about happenings at work. My two fellow inhabitants work with me, so we destress by chopping our onions and garlic and venting about the day at dinner. As of yesterday my colleague from two desks down has moved into the flat downstairs, and the boundaries between home and work are getting blurry.
Recently, on a family vacation, all the way in America for the thambi’s graduation, I spent most of my time taking pictures of tree pits, light poles and paving patterns for reference at work. My dad is shutter crazy, and is willing to pose in front of anything, as long as it stays still long enough. He even took his picture with cops in NYC, much to my mother’s chagrin. And very often he would stand next to a monument beaming away, waiting for me to click his picture, and much to his disappointment, I would be busy photographing a cycle stand or dustbin.
The job is also why I live in Ahmedabad and the other lives miles away, but whether he likes it or not is updated about the peon’s new uniform and the cold my colleague has. This alarming realization has now made me firmly resolve to “get a life”, starting with this blog and hopefully moving onto dance class, and exercise. I have been pretending to fight a losing battle with fitness and my rapidly growing waist and have been using my hectic job as an excuse. The other is only one who has hope, an endearing faith that one day I will jump out of bed at 6 am ( He is an annoying morning person ) and go jogging with him, but that is another post.
My place of work, shall be referred to as the zoo henceforth. It is a rather nice zoo, wooden chairs, watery tea, guilded cages and all. Although it is run by a ringmaster, who often confuses it for a circus, but all in all we get by.
I work on the 7th floor of a very grey building , in a windowless corner. I quite like my seat though, I have a wall plastered with colourful drawings on one side and a storage unit that hides me on the otherside, so sometimes I can just disappear if I can drown out the ringing phones and hide from the little ones. Soon I am moving to a new location, wih a window that overlooks the project I work on, which is the icing on the cake. But the cake itself is a sickly sweet cake with too much cream in various colours, the kind they have on display in tiny street bakeries, the kind I have ogled at at as a kid, but have never been allowed to eat. All this fuss with the metaphor is because I will be losing my little niche, my likeness of a cubicle, and will have to sit with the little ones to be able to supervise them better. I hate policing.
So ironically, to escape from becoming all work and no play, my first post is about the zoo. I need to go find my Madagascar . Sigh…