F* Corporate Cost Cutting

Aargh! First cheap towels and now this.

And You Thought Your Parents Were Bad

Maybe they were worse than this particular couple, but if they were, you'd probably be reading this from some sort of asylum by now.

The case of Baby P caught my attention today, the poor child unfortunate enough to be born to the woman who caused his subsequent death. In case you're unfamiliar of the details of the case, a young British woman aged 25 had a little baby boy in March 2006 and months later broke up with the father of the child and got friendly with another guy. Normal so far. The new boyfriend moves in and suddenly there are bruises appearing on Baby P's, Peter's, body. Months later, the boyfriend gets his friend to stay with them, who was on the run from his wife, with his 15 year old girlfriend. Several welfare visits later (around 60 over a span of eight months) and enforced trips to the various doctors, and arrests and temporary stays of the child with a family friend while his mother stayed in jail for a while after a fresh set of bruises were discovered, Baby P was taken to hospital with a broken back and ribs, none of which were discovered by the doctor who attended to him.

One day in August 2007, at the grand old age of 17 months, Peter was found dead in his blood spattered cot. Oh, and during the subsequent court proceedings where his mother and her boyfriend were put on trial, it was found that the latter was also guilty of having raped a two year old.

There are lots of questions to be asked: Why didn't welfare take him in before it was too late? Police who'd been to the premises before claimed she was a 'slob' and would incessantly be either on the Internet or watching TV, leaving the baby to its own devices and the house reeked of urine and she seemed to care more for her three dogs than her son. Why was such a woman allowed to raise a child? If she did not want a child, why didn't she just abort it or give it up for adoption? I mean, it isn't as though she feared social stigma, was it? How does the earth breed idiots like this? Why am I blogging about something that happened two years ago?

This is why safe sex should be advised Mr. Joseph Ratzinger. This is why abortion shouldn't be illegal, Mr. Conservative (a lot of politicians I hate on that list so can't name them all here). This is why morons shouldn't be allowed to have babies. Sure, kids aren't the most loveable things on earth but if you must have them give them a life of dignity. In a way, I'm glad that kid died when he did. I'd hate to see what all that violence would have made him grow up to be.

One Last Cuppa Before I Go

View from the Window of the Office Lobby

There are a lot of things I'm going to miss about this place when I finally leave it. Tea breaks and lunches and dinners out downstairs with R, for one thing. Forever having to implore her to wait if any managers were around, or begging her to let us have lunch anywhere except Saravana Bhavan. 

Odious food at the canteen alleviated by the presence of Gupta's north indian food stall. And now the new biryani guy. 

Horrible scanner that never worked when anyone really needed it; like during the peak season. 

Endless ways to fritter away your salary by visiting the neighbouring mall; despite the incessant power cuts.

Learning how to beat down my ego so that it'd fit into my pocket where I could hide it away from my managers. 

Learning that not all friends are good friends, and how to tell the difference.

Being forced not to speak my mind because dumb people talk louder and it's only the loudest voice that's ever heard.

All in all, this company helped me grow professionally. By that I mean that I have ceased to struggle. I have become truly corporatised. The end has just begun.

Seen at Spencer's

Uhm... I'll try?

With All Due Respect

They'd crept up on me from behind. By the time they were upon me, it was too late to run, or hide. They pounced upon me and opened their mouth: "Priloza, we'd like you to do us a little favour..."

"But" I told them, my heart beating rapidly and my mind racing fast for excuses, "but my work here is done; it's time for me to leave, I've been here for twelve hours already!"

"Oh" they said, ingratiatingly,"but you know we can't ask anyone else. If we asked Sandi she'd yell at us and when we asked Yosef he gave us a piece of his mind. One must always respect the disrespectful, did you not know?"

"Alright, but what does any of this have to do with me?" I said, my brow beginning to furrow.

"You are of manner mild and ineffectual. What you say is of no consequence. You are the ideal workhorse. We'd say work donkey but we have been instructed that we are to boost employee morale. You must therefore yield to our demands, as you always do, and do far more work than we will ever pay you for."

"But..." I tried, helplessly.

"You aren't going to, refuse us, are you?" they asked, in a manner that seemed a touch threatening, or maybe it was only my fancy.

"No, of course not, I just--"

"Good then, you may complete this in an hour's time. Now get on with your work."

Saying this, the two-headed manager demon stalked off back to their chamber.

A Catful of Sorrows

And the lord said unto me: I shall smite thee for thou hast not kept My Will. For thou hast coveted thy neighbour's boyfriend and hath borne false witness against thy manager.
Then I said unto the lord: Have mercy on me, oh lord. I know that I have sinned against you. Let me appease you oh great saviour of us all. What penance should I do to atone for my sins?
Then the lord said unto me: Now you're talking! For thy penance thou shalt live with cats! Bwahahahaha!
And so it came to pass that I was accursed with two mewling kittens, brought home by my roommate. The trouble with cats is that they bite and scratch. To put a finer point on that: they bite and scratch me. I have a history of being bitten and/or scratched by various cats down the years that weren't even my pets. If that wasn't painful enough, the ensuing precautionary injection certainly was. Maybe they hate that I'm a doglover. I dunno. That led to my subsequent hatred for all cats and my letting any neighbouring dog loose on any neighbouring cat I see. I know, that's evil. I've sobered down a lot now and have even gone so far as to develop a fondness for my boyfriend's half-blind black tomcat who blessedly doesn't bite or scratch me at all.
In any case, there the little critters are now; crawling all over the house, miaowing for all they're worth, insisting on exploring every nook and cranny of the house and I can't even plonk myself down anywhere for fear I might flatten one of them. Thankfully they seem to have developed toilet manners early enough so that's one worry out of the way.
One must make up for the sins of one's past in one way or another, I guess.

Note to Self: You Are Not Gisele Bundchen

On my way to work today, strutting as I do, self-importantly, towards the bus stop, I was instantly infuriated by the touch of another hand on mine. Said hand belonged to an individual walking next to me who was, and this was the bit that infuriated me most, male. I do not react kindly to male touch. Put it down to being a woman, being a victim of child abuse or being just plain narcissist. In any case, there I was accosting the individual with a few rude sentences, with the f word thrown in for good measure. Imagine my surprise when he defends and justifies himself saying that it was I who was swinging her hands about all over the place and 'not to talk like a loose person'. Loose, in Tamil slang, meaning mentally unstable, not sexually promiscuous (or so I hope).
As he then stalked off, leaving me opening and shutting my mouth like a fish, I realised maybe I ought to not speak too soon. Eh?

Why Whine

It's fun to be a whiner. Don't believe me? Try it yourself: I hate my job. I hate my colleagues. I hate where I live. I hate the people I live with. See? Now you've started to sound just like me. Being a whiner gives you the liberty to express your dissatisfaction with the system yet not do anything about it. Think about it. You can spew negativism and profanity in the comfort of your cubicle or bathroom and not go out of your way going to all the trouble of looking for your dream job, using a stun gun on your colleagues or move house.

Dissatisfied with the current state of affairs of the nation? Don't vote, just sit on your ass and cuss the bastard making long drawn speeches on the mike. Upset with your phone service provider? Why change your gorblimey number? Just rant loud and clear to anyone in the vicinity about the disadvantages of fonadove.

All in all, I would advocate taking the most chicken hearted way out of all situations. No confrontations, no random acts of rebellion, no vicious stabs with sharp objects. Save up all that energy for ranting about the way your life's going.