The first couple of weeks after joining any new job is traditionally called the honeymoon period. It is because apparently the work life in this period is exactly similar (see what I did there, ‘exactly similar’?) to your honeymoon. Everything that is, except for the gratuitous sex. (Perhaps even that. Hope springs eternal). By this logic, the couple of weeks before joining the above mentioned new job must be the bachelor (or bachelorette) paradise, when the specter of a settled life is looming large before you, but there is still time left on earth to enjoy. People spend this time in different ways. Some go to Goa, get drunk and pee into the ocean. Others buy a DSLR and head off into dirty alleys, only to click pictures of a stray cat and post it on Facebook under the heading ‘Glimpses of Life’. Like the pussy cares.
I, being the lazy sort I am, decided to stay put at home. I reckoned that since I was soon to become an expatriate, any ‘home-time’ I could grab would be welcome. This, however, created certain complications. Relatives have a bad tendency to visit, and an even worse tendency to ask uncomfortable questions under the aegis of assumed knowledge. Especially when they cotton onto the fact that you are a bona-fide MBA who works at a FMCG company.
(Setting: Living Room. Dad sitting on sofa, reading ‘The Hindu’. Yours truly sitting on the bean bag, immersed in the latest copy of Playboy (I can sense your disbelief. But you don’t have any way of disproving what I say here, do you? Ha, thought so.) Enter relative from front main entrance)
Relative: “Mone, So, MBA completed, eh? Good Good. When’s your joining?”
Me: “Three months later”
Relative: “Three months, eh?? Such a long time…All because of this recession only.”
Relative: “Which company was it again? Your mother did tell me the name, but I forgot”
Relative: “Ahh. Yes. Never heard of it. How is the company?”
Me: “Not bad. It is the largest FMCG company in the world”
Relative: “FM eh? Ohh like this Radio Mirchi and all… Is there any money in it?”
Me: “Err no. Fast Moving Consumer Goods. FMCG”
(Dad snickers in the background)
Relative: “Ohh, Goods Company. Will you be working at the docks or with the Railway?”
Me: “Erm not exactly. These goods are more like those you see in supermarkets.”
Relative: “Ohh, groceries. So you will be working in Andhra Pradesh.”
Me: “No, this company handles a lot of things. I will be working in the marketing department.”
Relative: “Ohh, sales. So will you have to go door to door or will they set you up in a shop?”
(More snickering from dad)
Me: “No. I will be in charge of brand development”
Relative: “Ahh, Brand. Does it sell well?”
Me: “……..yes, brand sells well. We buy it from Andhra Pradesh in bulk, transport it by rail to Coimbatore and then by road to Cochin. Then we ‘market’ it over the radio and finally sell it through small stalls spread all over Kerala”
Relative: (turning to Dad, who by now is choking back his laughter) “See? Today’s technology is so advanced. It’s a good thing I keep track of all these by reading the paper, else I would have been so out of touch.”
I am tired of being a bachelor. I want to get married and have sex.