Farewell sucks

I knew this day was coming. Just that i pretended otherwise. You don't want a good event to be interrupted because you are SO used to it. Which is also why you never take a break and wonder how things are going to be after the closing of an episode.

As this evening is drawing towards the night, it also marks my last working day with Akshar as a colleague. He's quitting the company on Friday and i'm going on a study leave from tomorrow onwards so this is it. Speaking of which, i should have ideally completed my PhD by the age of 26, especially when Shashi Tharoor earned his at 22! I'm 29 and am about to appear for the fourth (and final) semester of MA. I don't think PhD is ever going to happen.

Coming back to Akshar, it's been a delight working with him. He's a fabulous guy. A rare breed, actually. For the past six months or so, i've spent on an average 10+ hours with him per working day. Although there's hardly anything common between us (other than our love for movies and drum beats in songs), it was more than easy to be with him. Or should i say, it was much easier for him to crack jokes on me which i heartily laughed at? He is a restless soul who finds calm in music. Regardless, the thing about him is he lets you be. He neither forces anything on others nor lets other force anything on him. For a 25-year-old, he's achieved quite a lot in a relatively short period of time but somehow manages to not let popularity get into his system. And i firmly believe that's how a creative person should roll in today's world of overexposure.

I don't know about others but i'm going to miss him a lot. In fact, nobody else in this building shall miss him as much as i will. It'd be odd to turn to my right on Monday, dragging my chair sideways, only to not find him there with his blaring headphones on. But i guess i'll get used to that as well.  

Grace, uninterrupted

My deputy editor doesn't remember much about my initial days in office. It goes to show where i must be placed in her pecking order of significant people. But then, i have a very bad habit of remembering details which nobody else gives a fuck about. No, this ain't a newfound conclusion. I arrived at it long time ago. However, i recently told her that i when i joined work, i instantly assumed her to be a Parsi given her name, features and voice. Later it turned out she is a Muslim. Regardless, i continue to remain protective about her the way i was earlier when i mistook her for an endangered species.

I admire her a lot not just because of her endless 'lessons in life' but also because she doesn't pretend to be someone she isn't. In her case, what i say is what she regrets. So keeping up with the tradition of unfinished conversations wherein either one of us laughed hysterically throwing our head back cutting the short conversation shorter, i asked her who is going to take care of her after i leave my job. Pat came the reply "Tab tak main badi ho jaungi!" with a reluctant smile. She's one of those who is more comfortable laughing. Not the one for etiquette. Not the one for bash. An endangered species indeed.