Stupidity, as it is, runs in her veins. How else would you explain this - when asked by her then co-volunteer a month before her grad school began, whether she brought a notebook; with a puzzled look, she thought for a moment and replied, "no, no notebooks. I brought some text books related to the courses I signed up". The co-volunteer, I bet, still has his parties rolling with that making rounds.
Oh, before I digress, I ought to tell you how she ended up with that volunteer work in the first place. Two free months she had, before her grad school kicked in. And if you thought she opted for volunteering out of humanitarian concern, a sense of supporting her brethren - you are mistaken. Not that she can in any way be deemed otherwise. But truth needs to be told, however unfair it sounds. After just a week of getting up early just to make breakfast for her then new husband, waiting on him to come in the evening and relieve her of her misery and boredom - she realized quickly - way too quickly that - that is not her cup of tea. Kneading Golden Temple atta while humming a song at 4pm daily, didn't quite cut out for her. She dreaded idle time, more than she had ever realized.
With the thrift store brought suit ironed and perfumed, she attended the interview and sent a thank-you note later that evening. JK* replied that he was impressed and his team is positively thinking about the hire and that the decision will be made relatively soon. What? They are not even paying, for Pete's sake! She decided to forward JK's mail to her Aunt (an US resident of three decades), asking her plainly if anything made sense and whether it was actually an American way of rejecting the candidate. Thirty minutes later, she receives a mail from JK: "Dear Ms. Upsi, I assume this was an actual error and you really meant to send this mail to your "Sarasu Mammi". And no, our rejection letters are different. You mentioned your availability as of so-so date; we look forward to having you on our team. Regards, JK".Two days later, the firm got a volunteer who smiled as if she needs to use the loo the next second, every time she met with JK.
Salads were ordered every time she went with her team for a lunch-out. They praised her for such healthy eating habits. The fact that she had tough time synchronising knife and fork remained untold. She gasped, seeing salads also being cut before being stuffed. However hard she tried, knives slipped every time she cut lettuce and baby spinach.
Only when that Korean girl made entry to the team was she relieved. All of sudden, she had an air of superiority. And joined the roaring team when Candice (real name Can Wu-Zu), pronounced J C Penney (the clothing outlet) as Jec Penney (like in Mc Donald).
Then the classes kicked in and the first semester saw her crying and wanting go back and join the Government college for Women in Pathanipura, Kerala. She just couldn't make head or tail of what her professor (particularly that one Prof. with such thick accent ) was lecturing on, forget the jokes that had the whole class rolling and she just sat there smiling, trying to fight back the tears. There were no Indians in her department whom she could confine her woes and bargain sympathy. Plans to befriend fellow Indians that swamped the Computer/IT dept was dropped since the timings and interest levels never matched. So while the class took lecture notes, she nodded and scribbled...something. The hubby, to put an end to her wails, gifted her a tiny weeny recorder. She was too shy to use it at first - turning it on when no one was looking and immediately hiding it in her pencil box (yeah). The class begins informally at times, discussing basket ball and baseball for an hour and she got tensed since the recorder runs out of its 45 minutes life span.
Stupidity never left her. It continues to thrive; all she hopes is a hope of not having passed it onto her little one. God, please let the little one take after his father on just this area. (Lord at Guruvayoor is constantly sought).
Things that her co-workers (all American, no desi) take for granted as part and package of their lives, completely throws her off guard at times, stamping the "stupid" seal over and again.
Her job is to ensure the safety and health of the staff. Her reports often end up with.."your safety and health is our highest priority and we strive to achieve that in every step of the mentioned process". She realizes that a pinch of stupidity will cost a life. She cannot go wrong. Not this time, because there might simply be no next time. And with the best of faith, she takes the step ahead.
===============
ps: this post is dedicated to the responsibility she was recently bestowed with.
*JK: A very learned professor and ever so humble - I have high regard for him and he helped me much in my job hunt.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Am I pregnant?
All people in general have an inherent ability to irritate. Let's call this as an "irritability quo". Any given day, it is hard to determine this irritability quo, unless say you are the subject's husband/wife/mil/close friend or whatever. But you see what I am saying.
So after about five diaper changes in four hours that have you gagging and a very stoic husband who has no time to breathe ever since he enrolled for a MS program; lets say you are simply grouchy. Since the little one has not started speaking yet, he is spared of his mom's volcanic eruptions. That leaves a very-busy husband and an equally confused MIL at the receiving end. The husband, simply put - doesn't understand why the wife is so cranky. Now the word "cranky" which sounds normal, even funny in any other given day is elevated to level Orange when the subject is testy. So even though the husband keeps the lil one entertained and out of his grumpy mom's nose; the subject still finds - an orphaned underwear not IN the laundry basket and an empty mug with two day old coffee stains in the home-office room - that sets the irritability quo in alarming tones.
With such choreography set, the subject gets to her office later than ever. Which is when her good friends down in the administrative office, calls her for a cup of coffee and a little chat.
And they go, "ah...Upsi..coming late to work these days huh.."
"you are pregnant, aren't you?" foll lowed by roars of laughter.
"hahhhoohhaaa......trying to get pregnant?".......again roars of laughter.
"the little one is....14 months, right..yaya, he needs someone to play with"
"so, Mr.Upsi is at work late too huh"....more laughter.
She stomps out of the coffee room and pick up the vibrating cell. It's her friend calling to check on the little one and Upsi replies, "oh, little one is better. much better, though he is still not eating well. but I am feeling so under the weather, took a sick leave yesterday and had two Tylenols every four hours" .
The friend, "ahhhhhh Upsi.....you are not pregnant, are you?"
I tell you, the next person to ask that question is going to get from me.
So after about five diaper changes in four hours that have you gagging and a very stoic husband who has no time to breathe ever since he enrolled for a MS program; lets say you are simply grouchy. Since the little one has not started speaking yet, he is spared of his mom's volcanic eruptions. That leaves a very-busy husband and an equally confused MIL at the receiving end. The husband, simply put - doesn't understand why the wife is so cranky. Now the word "cranky" which sounds normal, even funny in any other given day is elevated to level Orange when the subject is testy. So even though the husband keeps the lil one entertained and out of his grumpy mom's nose; the subject still finds - an orphaned underwear not IN the laundry basket and an empty mug with two day old coffee stains in the home-office room - that sets the irritability quo in alarming tones.
With such choreography set, the subject gets to her office later than ever. Which is when her good friends down in the administrative office, calls her for a cup of coffee and a little chat.
And they go, "ah...Upsi..coming late to work these days huh.."
"you are pregnant, aren't you?" foll lowed by roars of laughter.
"hahhhoohhaaa......trying to get pregnant?".......again roars of laughter.
"the little one is....14 months, right..yaya, he needs someone to play with"
"so, Mr.Upsi is at work late too huh"....more laughter.
She stomps out of the coffee room and pick up the vibrating cell. It's her friend calling to check on the little one and Upsi replies, "oh, little one is better. much better, though he is still not eating well. but I am feeling so under the weather, took a sick leave yesterday and had two Tylenols every four hours" .
The friend, "ahhhhhh Upsi.....you are not pregnant, are you?"
I tell you, the next person to ask that question is going to get from me.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
A filling Philly feeling
A minute's look into the conference flyer and I knew I was going. The place was PA, two hours drive from Washington DC where my family abodes.
Afterall a conference is an integral part of my self-study arena wanting to be watered and nourished. Convinced the boss. Should have known when to stop because my 'excitement' to be on top of this new state-of-the-art technology was contagious and the boss hurried to make travel arrangements and reservations for two. Slowly treaded that I would infact like to travel to DC and then join him later at the conference. And also I would be staying back in DC for couple more days and fly back later. This is where I feel like hugging the boss.
So the next few days were in frenzy reserving hotel ("yes MaryAnn, I would like a baby bed and an extra bedding. No, there are no guests. Just me. yes, this is how I stay") and packing bags -- mine, my little ones and hubby's. Yeah, he decided to join the row -- paid food and stay, so why not? ofcourse I can afford a single ticket to DC, he said. Plus how will you damsel manage alone in a flight with the little one? So the orginial plan of having my mom baby-sit the little one while I am at the meeting, was dropped and replaced by hubby. A few phone calls later, hubby's friend in NJ decided he would drop in and visit us while we are there. The said friend called later and said his brother wants to meet us too. Why not!
Last minute packing and realized that the bag has sun tan lotion and flip flops, but not a single professional file on the topics to be covered at the expo. Oh well!
Six day conference & expo was cut short to four days. Last two days had repetitive topics I found out. The boss readily agreed. And I spent a total of seven hours at the conference hall(no exaggeration there guys...ok ok...five hours then) during those four days . Ducked out early from the first day meeting and found an equally embarrassed boss in the hotel lobby. On the second day, we accepted our real motives and saw the boss merrily chatting with the hubby and playing with our little one. He talked about his walk to the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall tour. Had my exercise, he said. Good for you, I replied. Couple hours and a latte later, we had our exercise too.
While listening to a talk, I slowly eye the people around and count the Indians. About four of them in their late forties and fifties. And two around my age. On a coffee-scone break, I lazily walk the aisle and this lady I though was Indian approached me. She is a Srilankan, working in Hawai as a consultant in our field with certifications I envy. A very humble mother of three teenage kids , we talked and she advised on the road I am headed to. Thank you, N. You left an impact and passed on the Prometheus torch.
Out from the meeting and in the park, I saw the father and son rolling in the grass and giggling. Witnessed an young man I married five years ago, loving his son with a passion. A passion that has engulfed the two guys on a lifetime bond. Son, I hope you will always take care of your father and reciprocate his undying love for you.
And when the night set in, we fine dined in the twilight under a dusky sky, with a tired little one snoozing in my arms. We watched the tourists of all colour, size and shape pass by. Exchanged hearty smiles. World seemed to be a nice place, after all.
For three days and three nights, we forgot those worries that spice up our lives and swayed at the music the street singer played with a longing heart.
Listen now, for Philadelphia holds a secret charm. About six years ago, this is the place I had my first kiss. (Shame, shame, shame -- proclaiming such personal anecdotes on a public front - Grandmom's voice echoes and I hush). And oh yeah, I am still married to that guy. So we drove down the market street to see the house we once dwelled. Hush now, no more, the voice echoes. And I do.
When the parents joined us in PA, we played rummy late into the night, making innocent fun at each other. Dad and hubby left and a day later, mom and I with my little one took a Chinatown bus from Philly to DC. Joined by more family (sis and co) in DC. We had fun and more fun. And in the night, it was always rummy time.
When the day came for us to leave, I saw Dad and his eyes begged for me to stay a little longer. My daughter came for this meeting you see, and she is spending couple of days with us - he told his friends. He is a proud father, I can tell. Proud of his two daughters and what they stand up for. He still urges us to go further. Beyond that horizon, never to be afraid of taking life's little risks. That it is okay to fall and resurge. And that no matter what, we are in this together. Mom and Dad together indulged us above and beyond. Mom cooked and cooked, until we yelled her to stop. We felt like two little girls again, when they took us to the zoo and called us over "look loook, a tiger!". Dad and mom, it is never enough -- but thank you. For you guys, a thousand times over.....
Afterall a conference is an integral part of my self-study arena wanting to be watered and nourished. Convinced the boss. Should have known when to stop because my 'excitement' to be on top of this new state-of-the-art technology was contagious and the boss hurried to make travel arrangements and reservations for two. Slowly treaded that I would infact like to travel to DC and then join him later at the conference. And also I would be staying back in DC for couple more days and fly back later. This is where I feel like hugging the boss.
So the next few days were in frenzy reserving hotel ("yes MaryAnn, I would like a baby bed and an extra bedding. No, there are no guests. Just me. yes, this is how I stay") and packing bags -- mine, my little ones and hubby's. Yeah, he decided to join the row -- paid food and stay, so why not? ofcourse I can afford a single ticket to DC, he said. Plus how will you damsel manage alone in a flight with the little one? So the orginial plan of having my mom baby-sit the little one while I am at the meeting, was dropped and replaced by hubby. A few phone calls later, hubby's friend in NJ decided he would drop in and visit us while we are there. The said friend called later and said his brother wants to meet us too. Why not!
Last minute packing and realized that the bag has sun tan lotion and flip flops, but not a single professional file on the topics to be covered at the expo. Oh well!
Six day conference & expo was cut short to four days. Last two days had repetitive topics I found out. The boss readily agreed. And I spent a total of seven hours at the conference hall(no exaggeration there guys...ok ok...five hours then) during those four days . Ducked out early from the first day meeting and found an equally embarrassed boss in the hotel lobby. On the second day, we accepted our real motives and saw the boss merrily chatting with the hubby and playing with our little one. He talked about his walk to the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall tour. Had my exercise, he said. Good for you, I replied. Couple hours and a latte later, we had our exercise too.
While listening to a talk, I slowly eye the people around and count the Indians. About four of them in their late forties and fifties. And two around my age. On a coffee-scone break, I lazily walk the aisle and this lady I though was Indian approached me. She is a Srilankan, working in Hawai as a consultant in our field with certifications I envy. A very humble mother of three teenage kids , we talked and she advised on the road I am headed to. Thank you, N. You left an impact and passed on the Prometheus torch.
Out from the meeting and in the park, I saw the father and son rolling in the grass and giggling. Witnessed an young man I married five years ago, loving his son with a passion. A passion that has engulfed the two guys on a lifetime bond. Son, I hope you will always take care of your father and reciprocate his undying love for you.
And when the night set in, we fine dined in the twilight under a dusky sky, with a tired little one snoozing in my arms. We watched the tourists of all colour, size and shape pass by. Exchanged hearty smiles. World seemed to be a nice place, after all.
For three days and three nights, we forgot those worries that spice up our lives and swayed at the music the street singer played with a longing heart.
Listen now, for Philadelphia holds a secret charm. About six years ago, this is the place I had my first kiss. (Shame, shame, shame -- proclaiming such personal anecdotes on a public front - Grandmom's voice echoes and I hush). And oh yeah, I am still married to that guy. So we drove down the market street to see the house we once dwelled. Hush now, no more, the voice echoes. And I do.
When the parents joined us in PA, we played rummy late into the night, making innocent fun at each other. Dad and hubby left and a day later, mom and I with my little one took a Chinatown bus from Philly to DC. Joined by more family (sis and co) in DC. We had fun and more fun. And in the night, it was always rummy time.
When the day came for us to leave, I saw Dad and his eyes begged for me to stay a little longer. My daughter came for this meeting you see, and she is spending couple of days with us - he told his friends. He is a proud father, I can tell. Proud of his two daughters and what they stand up for. He still urges us to go further. Beyond that horizon, never to be afraid of taking life's little risks. That it is okay to fall and resurge. And that no matter what, we are in this together. Mom and Dad together indulged us above and beyond. Mom cooked and cooked, until we yelled her to stop. We felt like two little girls again, when they took us to the zoo and called us over "look loook, a tiger!". Dad and mom, it is never enough -- but thank you. For you guys, a thousand times over.....
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