Wednesday, 6 August 2008


Time
Don't let it slip away
Raise yo' drinkin' glass
Here's to yesterday
In Time
We're all gonna trip away
Don't piss Heaven off
We got Hell to pay
Come full circle
(Song "Full Circle". Band "Aerosmith")


Times change a man.

Yes they do.


From over the top of his three work monitors he gazes vacantly up at the flat screen monitor on the wall right in front of him running endless CNBC Europe with all manners and shapes of charts, bar graphs with numbers scrolling up and down and left and right all endlessly hammering his mind with incessant information. He stares at the screen watching all "Breaking News" headlines as they jump around pretty faces of business women with a "I mean business don’t fuck with me" written all over their forehead and middle aged pot bellied men offering endless opinions on stock prices, company actuals, EPS numbers, EPSREP numbers, EBG numbers...XYZ numbers.


He simply stares.


He averts his gaze which inadvertently falls on his three work monitors. These smart handsome boys scream another tale of the same world that he now lives in. Emails from Reuters, Bloomberg, traders, stock analysts, Quants, techies, stock prices not coming in, numbers bungled, sedols wrong, issuers fucked up...oh damn!


He was a Delhi boy through and through. The kinds that roam endlessly, freely over NOIDA toll bridge at 2 in the night with a plastic bucket full of melting big ice slabs and 12 bottles of Fosters chilling in them. The mission - to ravage these 12 bottles during the journey from west Delhi toll bridge to Gurgaon where more booze awaits. The kinds that would dance bhangra and break dance routines all mangled into one limb jerking madness of an orgy which would take place over cheap cello taped dance floors used commonly in weddings, throwing his stole up in the air as he yells on the top of his voice the lyrics of any song he could remember. Never mind if the so called DJ was playing a different number altogether. The kinds who would catch every movie featuring Bipasha the day it was released and towards the end get insanely jealous of John, and then work out in the gym diligently after every Bips movie only to give it up after a month till the next Bips movie kicks the entire cycle again.


The kind for whom every girl was a pursuit, a challenge, a conquest he had to have and had to win, the kinds that would be brilliant, geniuses at college, at school but would always be hunting for books one night before the exam and be miserably drunk on the evening of the last one. The kinds who would be always missing from classes, intimidating, cajoling some geek in the college for his/her notes and who would always run up the most massive bill at the college photo copier before their exams and would promptly forget about the bill as soon as the exams were over.


The kind who would always be least bothered of whatever he is wearing, the kind who would lazily drag himself to the afternoon class in torn chappals and jeans having just woken up from a bad hangover of the night before, only to realize he hates the guts of this prof and would promptly turn back on his heels to head back to hostel again where in a room without any kind of air cooling system with a lone fan that wont work because there would be no electricity his royal wooden bed without any mattress would await him on which he would sleep the most glorious relaxing sleep in the hot Delhi July afternoon.


Yes he was a Delhi boy through and through.


Now he wears a suit every morning. His shirts are all designers with cuff links, his trousers all pressed crisp. His shoes shine; he wears horn rimmed designer glasses and lives in a world of numbers. Working in the heart of old money's financial capital, the city of London, for a reputed big hedge fund he gets up at 6 every morning and is at work by 8. He doesn’t shout, doesn’t scream with delight anymore, and doesn’t delve into the limb jerking madness while he is on a brilliantly finished posh dance floor in one of his organization's events dancing with pretty ladies around him. He doesn’t drive wild in the nights doesn’t go roaming over motorways with chilled beer in the back of his car and definitely is not up till 4 am. He sleeps on comfortable beds in temperature controlled room and yet has difficulty falling to sleep. He hates but takes sleeping pills.


His “friends” are all PhDs, learned fellows who can simulate trading patterns in their heads and rattle off the earning numbers for FTSE 100 companies while they nibble over their chicken skewers and sip their droughts. No more the neighborhood guys from the street who barely cleared 10+2 but for whom life meant this moment, this very moment that they breath in, nothing beyond this moment mattered, the moment that just passed never existed and the next moment would never come. Those who lived their lives right now, right here even if they are slumped on the floor of a hostel room piled on by 5 guys each side, all passed out after a session of good old hostel party and didn’t have a scooby about what class is at 9 tomorrow morning.


Gone are the roadside dhabas with 4 am Aloo ke Paronthe and their ultimate adrak waali chai coupled with a Fan that he used to relish dunking in. Now it’s Lavazza black Americano with a tad of cold skimmed milk on the side please and an occasional donut from Krispy Kreme or maybe just a fruit and nut bar hmmm?


Gone are the days of Royal Challenge when Blender’s Pride used to be a gourmet treat. Now it’s all Scapa and Jameson and Jack Daniels with occasional Remy Martins and Hennessey for our boy. No more drinking straight shots from plastic Pepsi glasses while stuffed into a dark hot and cramped room at the back of a small local cyber cafe hiding from parents, neighbors, other friends who didn’t share the cost of the whiskey or Kurkure. Now he sniffs his wine while slumped in comfortable leather bean bags, swooshes his crystal glass and gurgles it in his mouth before he spits it out for sommelier pretending to make up some cock and bull story about the flavor while frankly he couldnt give shit about the wine's "particularly woody tinge".

The boy has come a long way. A long long way rather. He acquired all that he wanted to and is on the path that would lead him to more of his desires. Things that he always wanted to achieve ever since he was a teenager living in a single room with his parents and siblings. Luxuries he could only dream of, life he could only imagine living. Now he has it all and soon would have all that is remaining.


Why then is he sitting on his desk, middle of a business day, staring at his monitors and asking himself – I achieved all I wanted to, want to, but is this really worth what I gave up?


Time
Don't let it slip away
Raise yo' drinkin' glass
Here's to yesterday
In Time
We're all gonna trip away
Don't piss Heaven off
We got Hell to pay
Come full circle

8 Comments:

  1. Anonymous said...
    Really awesome post!! Welcome back
    John F said...
    Thanks! :)
    somegirl said...
    Thats more like it! :)
    I meant the "death of a blogger" ofcourse and also the time spent on the movie.. seems like!
    John F said...
    I get knocked down
    but I get up again
    you never gonna keep me down
    I get knocked down
    but I get up again........


    LOL!

    BTW, next time please click one of the stars below the post to give me an indication of how much you liked/disliked it. If it is a movie review then stars are for the movie and not the review.

    thanks!
    Thespian said...
    Wonderful post. Reminds me of how I've changed with time too... in just a matter of months. As they say, change is inevitable. The question we should ask ourselves is whether we like what we've become...

    I think I do :)
    John F said...
    Many thanks thespian!
    Ships said...
    Amazing post... Really eerie feeling... Could relate to most of the words... Keep writing :)
    John F said...
    Thanks Ships! I think most of us would be able to relate to this :)

    Thanks for visiting!

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