Moved!

The blog hasn’t moved. I have. To Mumbai.

Special thanks to:

1. Everyone at work: For throwing me an awesome ‘get the fuck outta here’ party.
2. Shireen and Rabin: For coming down from Chennai to see me off.
3. The Crapper: For all the beer and conversation I barely remember (blame it on the beer!).
4. The rest: For calling/messaging their goodbyes.
5. Uncle Mike: For being an amazing boss/mentor/friend throughout my stay at Infy BPO – Deutsche Bank.

Amen.

Conversations…

Parul: hehe.. and the movie is short and has an impact

me: Hrm. That’s what I say about porn.

Parul: oh god!!

Amen!

Of work and optimised shit.

Oh well… A fart post now.

This happened to me a few months ago.

We were called for a meeting at work, or a huddle as it is called, one day. As was the tradition then, I was in-charge of keeping the minutes of the meeting, no wait, huddle.

Anyways, I was furiously doodling on a piece of paper as my manager was discussing (well, calling it a discussion would be pushing it since he was the only one talking) things I don’t remember now.

I had had a potato-cheese sandwich and (very) cold buttermilk for brunchinner (breakfast/lunch/dinner for the uninitiated). Because I used to have just one meal a day, there was, well, this problem of gas. And the fact that I had potatoes did not help matters either.

Well, I’m sure you’d have guessed by now what happened during the meeting.

I let one rip.

The manager stopped talking, everyone there shifted in their seats uncomfortably. Oh well.. it did not end there.

I now realised I had to say something. An apology perhaps? Ooh, I could also add that I have a chronic problem, you know just an almost preemptive apology for all future farts in the office?

But no, I had to say something stupid. As usual.

I looked around and spoke. Very slowly.

“So, do you want me to add this onto the minutes of the meeting?”

Oh well…

Amen.