Day 23: Good things = Amazing people

So, in my previous post, I spoke about how I had to do a wardrobe rehaul, very unhappily.

Let me explain.

I’m the kind of shopper that walks into a clothes store knowing exactly what it is that I need. I go straight to that department, get what I want and leave. Yes, that’s me. And that’s all the patience I have for shopping. I don’t window shop, I don’t ‘just’ browse inside a shop, and I never stay on longer than I absolutely need to.

My “shopping” normally lasts 15-30 minutes (including a trial), and that’s depending on how long the line at the cashier is. Any more than 45 minutes, and I normally leave whatever I picked up and get the hell out, planning to come back later in the middle of a weekday! In my 31 years of existence, I’ve never had a shopping spree, till the time I had to go shopping for western formals, a category I knew NOTHING about, with none other than the Queen of Subtlety and (self-declared, but totally justified) Fashionista! And not once, but twice! 🙄

Since she had never seen me in western formals ever, she offered to help me shop on ONE condition: I should try out everything she would pick for me. 😐 And boy, did she have fun! I think she took it as her opportunity to torture me by getting out of my jeans and chequered shirt and sneakers…making me get in an out of  everything I used to roll my eyes at earlier.

The first time, we shopped for over two hours. 😮 TWO bloody hours! I tried on at least 11 pieces of formal clothing! And I had to come out each time, let her pass judgement and then go back and come out in the next. Trust me, after just 2-3 times of that, I was exhausted and wanting to leave, but no! I didn’t buy all 11 of those, of course. Which meant my wardrobe was still a million miles from being even quarter-full. At the end of it though, I wanted to cry like a baby and say “I want to go hoooooooome!” I didn’t do that, but the sweetheart that she is, she took me to a nice little place and bought me pancakes and omelette. Such joy after all that torture. 😛

Before I left for home, she said “You do know this isn’t over, right? We need to get you more stuff.” And I mumbled and said I would let her know when I’m ready. She will kill me for this, but I vaguely recall throwing a tantrum at home saying “I hate shopping, I don’t want to go!” and sulking about an hour before I was supposed to meet her for Round 2. And, I may have even considered cooking up a story to postpone the shopping meet. 😐 But yeah – I could not be a baby. I was off to a foreign country, having to wear totally “foreign” clothes. I had to get the best help.

The next time, we shopped for over 4 hours (!!) and she made me try on at least (I kid you not) 25 pieces of formal clothing (or was it 40?!). 😮 At the end of it…well, honestly, I now don’t remember how that day ended! It was some serious brain damage for me. Phew! I can safely say that she had more fun (I say this because she was fully excited explaining the shopping stories to a few other friends while I barely wanted to talk about it!), and totally at my expense–pun intended, considering how much money I spent in one day. They all had 4-digit price tags!!! Jesus — how does the average person afford all this?  I would not even remotely be exaggerating if I say in just a day I spent more than I spent my entire lifetime buying clothes. 😐 Good Lord! Not to mention how she took every chance to thupp at my sneakers and jeans and say “Bwahahaha” 🙄 Oh, she also made me buy the girly, snug-fit, narrow-legged jeans I used to thupp at once up on a time (because I used to only wear straight-fit, ‘boy’ jeans)!

And then I did something REALLY stupid. I told a colleague of mine that the WIFE was doing this. And I said this to this darling girl who is a total shopaholic. She went ballistic that I did not include her in that experience. And demanded I share pictures of everything I bought. Sigh. Which I did. And she went “Here I am, hoping she would have bought you all kinds of clothes to make you look like a doll. Instead, you bought trousers and shirts!?” 😦

She took it up on herself to buy me western dresses that would make me look like a doll. Actually, she told me I should have bought skirts and summer dresses and all that 🙄 And I may have mentioned I don’t know what to buy and that if she wanted to help, she was free to do so. Well, though I said “help”, I meant “do it for me, I’m not interested” 😀 And she still took it seriously! 🙂

It was absolute madness and quite funny. She proceeded to spend hours and hours on Myntra site, looking at dresses, shortlisting, all that and I would take no more than two minutes to to look at them all (about 20 at a time :P) and say “Too short” “Too costly” “No sleeves” “Too colorful”. She would tell me to sit with her and look through the site…and I would just say “I have work!”

God. So much money that darling girl spent on her Internet charges 😛 Finally, she told me to just shut up and wear the ones she would order for me! And she ordered and ordered and ordered. In fact, we had a team member who was an ex-Myntra employee and had a huge discount card she could use anytime. We made her do the actual “order placing” on the site, using coupons and everything. It finally became a big project needing a lot of coordination and feedback and “tweaks”, that we had to start a WhatsApp group only for this! By the end of this, I’m pretty sure the darling girl even knew the SKU numbers by heart. And the ex-Myntra girl–such a darling–sat up late into the nights, ordering, raising return requests and ordering again! 🙂

Since we both had to go to office, and there was no one at my home to collect when delivered, we gave her home address. Her mother went completely bonkers, opening the door every 2-3 times, every single day for the next 2 weeks, to collect packages from a Myntra delivery guy each time! Normally Myntra delivery guys call in advance to ask address, route, etc. After 2 days of multiple deliveries, just about everyone at Myntra knew her house 😛 And they even stopped demanding that someone open the door to collect. If her mom was late to reach the door, she would often find a package dropped in through the window! 😀

She would then bring the dresses to office next day, make me try them on. After a point, I lost track of the number of dresses I tried–of which, few I kept and returned most 😛 The good thing was that they were all in 3 digits. She then demanded I take a day off and go to her house with my entire purchase (including what the WIFE helped buy) to do a trial + mix-and-match session.

Though they all had fun shopping for me, I did not enjoy it at alllllll. I was confident I would never pull those off. And hated how happy the WIFE and the darling girl were while I was in utter despair!

Till the time I reached here, got into a pair of trousers, a formal shirt, a blazer and a pair of formal shoes and felt just fine. Till I wore one of the dresses with a pair of pretty shoes and felt just fine. Till I saw myself in a skinny jeans, a proper ‘girl’ top and a pair of flat shoes and felt just fine.

So totally fine that even today, after 7 months, I’m just as grateful to these two as I was on Day 1 at my new job 🙂 ❤

(But, I still wait eagerly for my Thursdays to be in jeans and T-shirts, and once in a while I do go back to my ‘boy jeans’ and sneakers and chequered shirts! Such contentment those days, I tell you! Only, since no one knows my tomboyishness here, which doesn’t even seem possible in all my very lady-like attire, I siffer rfom a major identity crisis! I fit in so well with the larger (and always well-dressed British crowd, but I miss the me I would happy being. Sigh. And before you thupp at me for saying this, dear WIFE, think of how you’d feel having to go to work in a salwar-kameez every day. Ha! 😐)

As for where I got all that money to “splurge” with absolute abandon on a wardrobe I wasn’t even sure I would like? I will just say I have AMAAAAAAAAZING people in my life who let me redeem all those accumulated credit card points as Marks&Spencer and Shoppers Stop vouchers. Basically, my wardrobe came to me fully filled, fully free 🙂 I’ll never stop being grateful to you for that! ❤picture1

Day 21: The weather today…

is so good, all I want to do is be home, amidst all my (imaginary) plants, looking out on to the (imaginary) greenery from my bedroom.

The weather today is so good, all I want to do is be home, enjoying the silence, before I plug in this song (which has been playing on loop since the morning) and go on a long, long stroll along the paved walkway, bordered on both sides by (imaginary) tall green trees!

The weather today is so good, all I want to do is be home, lie on my (imaginary) lawn, resting my head on (imaginary) Pumbaa, reading Go Set A Watchman again.

The weather today is so good, all I want to do is be home, sit in my (imaginary) balcony and watch the lovely (imaginary) birds and beautiful (imaginary) butterflies playing dancing in the cool breeze.

The weather today is so good, all I want to do is be home, sit on the (imaginary) steps at my door, held in a warm hug by the (imaginary) love of my life.

The weather today is so good, all I want to do is play some of my forever favourite songs on the (imaginary) sound system, singing along and feeling content.

The weather today is so good, all I want to do is cook those things I love cooking in my big, airy (imaginary) kitchen.

The weather today is so good, all I want to do is chatter non-stop with my (imaginary) Amma, as I sip on hot tea and munch on the amazing (imaginary) pazhamporis she keeps serving hot.

The weather today is so good, all I want is to be really home, in a place that is truly home.

The weather today is so good…and all I’ve got is Kuwait! 🙄 Everything else is just truly imaginary and in two faraway places: one a haven in Bangalore, the other a heaven in Trivandrum! 🙂 Sigh.

Day 13: Phone like a baby…

If I have a principle in life I’ve stuck to for the past 32 years (OK fine…past 9 years, since the time they entered my life), it is to not spend over Rs 10,000/- for a phone.

My first phone was a Sony and I’ve been loyal ever since. Give how utterly butterly are my fingers, owing to which I drop everything way too often, one can easily put together the logic behind that life principle 😛 If I drop a phone and smash it to death, I don’t want to be weeping too much over it. And I do that a lot. The dropping, not the weeping.

In any case, the mobile phone and I aren’t the best of friends.

So yes, my first one was a Sony Walkman series the brother brought from Singapore. I fell in love with it. It was about Rs 10,000 in 2007, I think. It served me well. It was a tiny phone, sat snugly in my tiny palm. I used it for 4.5 years. It went through a lot of abuse — falling off stairs, being run over by a car, chewed on by Pumbaa Nayar and so on and so forth.

I bought the next one myself when the existing one begged me to kill it and give it a decent burial as well. That cost me Rs 10,000 or so. I used it for a few months. I lost it on a bus, when I went to Goa to do some serious thinking-by-the-beach about life’s complexities and human existence 😛 So, as soon as I got back to Bangalore, I bought the exact same phone for another Rs 10,000. Sigh. It served me well. It was a tiny phone, sat snugly in my tiny palm. I used it for almost 1.5 years. This one went through not as much abuse as the first one, but had its fair share of falls, scratches and dents (and a chip off as well, if I remember right).

Till it got kidnapped. Literally.

Someone who knew very well my deep-seated HATE for Samsung phones and surprises alike, gave me a terrible surprise by exchanging my much-loved Sony phone for a Samsung S4! Ugh! And, as if that wasn’t enough, gave it to me as an advance birthday gift (insult to injury) aaaaaand made me pay for it as well (vile abuses to insult to injury)! That one cost me Rs 45,000/-, of which Rs 6,000 was paid for with my dear Sony’s life. But since I was not the one that bought it, I continued to hate and never care about it. The damn thing fell once and died! I had to revive it since it was too new and I was still paying the damn EMI 😛 Then the damn thing fell again, and again, and again so many times. Till it died on its own in good time and I rejoiced! It was too big for my tiny palm, and would never sit snugly. Ugh. I hated it and I hated it so much! But I used it for 1.5 years and abused it so much so it would die soon and I wouldn’t feel so bad about throwing it in a dumpster. (Though I meant to exchange it and get some money out of the damn thing, it miraculously disappeared from my life – thank the Lord!) I don;t want to go into depth about the kinds of abuse this one went through, and I was always overjoyed 😛

I then again bought a Sony phone, this time for just Rs 8,000/- and was very pleased with myself. It was a tiny phone, sat snugly in my tiny palm. I meant to take good care of it, but on Day 2, it fell onto tarred road and got scratched all over. Sigh. And once there appears one scratch, the rest keep coming. I used it for over a year. (Hmmm…interesting trend of usage duration.)

And now, I have bought another Sony phone, which, for the first time, does NOT sit snugly in my tiny palm. It is longish, and looks lovely, with matt-finish edges and back and a shiny screen. And, it cost me Rs 16,000/-. Not at alll in line with my phone-related life principle! For someone sooooooooo not used to taking care of a phone, I have this urge in me to take good care of it and to keep it looking as good as new.  Two years later, I want to be able to “puthan aaittu iruppundu” (looks as good as new!) to someone who says that a lot 😉

I am extra careful about not getting any scratches on it. I keep it on soft surfaces always. At work, I lay it on a folded tissue paper, lest the backside gets soft scratches 😛 At home, it’s always on the bed (never ever on a hard surface).

And I am, therefore, in perpetual paranoia that I will drop it!  Utterly butterly still are my fingers, and since this doesn’t even sit snugly anymore, I’m super scared. Since when have I become so careful of a phone, I do not know, but I am. I searched all over here for a cover, but looks like they no longer have covers for Sony phones 😛 I think my only option is to get one of those very girly phone pouches. I’d rather die 😛 I checked on Amazon, but they don’t deliver to Kuwait. I’ll have to wait till end of December now. Sigh.

I live in paranoia the rest of the year. Unless it falls before that and gets that first scratch on it. Damn, I cannot claim the puthan aaittu irippundu dialogue if that happens!

I know very well that if this phone cost me only nearabouts Rs 10,000, I wouldn’t be so careful.

Secretly, I like the fact that I’m being as careful as I am now (am I growing up?).

And that’s because, ever since I came to Kuwait, my phone has become quite a close ally, one I’d be lost without 😛 😛 😛

Day 11: The insides of a Ghost

…are amazing. It will make you feel like you’re floating, that you’re surrounded with awesomeness, that you’re “above” everyone else. It will make you feel like you’re being held and comforted by hands that do not really touch you, yet you feel the cozyness so well that it makes you want to hold on for ever. It will suck you up into an alter world and when it is time to leave, make you want to cling on and never get back to reality.

The insides of a Ghost are beyond awesome: a feeling I do not have enough words to express.

I grew up with boys. Till I was about 6-7, I was constantly in the company of my brother, and whenever we cousins got together, it was all boys. Then I moved with parents and brother to Guruvayur, which then turned out to be the BEST TWO formative years of my childhood. And there as well, all my friends were my brother’s friends.

We played cricket and 7 stones and all sorts of boyish (and sometimes quite violent :P) games. When we came back to Trivandrum, though I did make some girlfriends, most of my “everyday” company were my brother’s friends. When my favourite cousins came from Qatar once a year, the “games” were mostly re-enacting “the WWF”. And they took it rather seriously (that it was all staged on TV wasn’t something we figured too easily).

Therefore, I was always a tomboy. A big part of me still am and always will. A few dear friends of mine will vociferously vouch for this fact (and that’s a while other post!) I still remember the highpoint of tomboyness — going to UB City, Bangalore, once…and while the friends were going crazy window shopping at Louis Vuittons and the likes, I was in the basement parking, going gaga at all the awesome cars parked there 😛

Which probably is why, when we once went for a wedding reception at the Royal Orchid Hotel in Bangalore, in 2010, while Amma was ogling at the grandeur of the place and sparkle of the event (read dresses, saris, jewellery, shoes, etc.) that the other pretty women turned up in, I was ogling at a Rolls-Royce Phantom parked proudly outside. I had to then be physically shepherded inside by Amma (it was her best friend’s son’s wedding). I made a mental note to take a pic on the way back.

I’m not the kind with the patience for weddings and those elaborate parties, yet I deliberately delayed leaving the wedding hall, to make sure there will be as much space and calm around the Phantom when we leave. I had great hopes. I was already imagining sharing that photo with a few of my friends and the subsequent conversations after that. Needless to say, none of that worked out the way it should have!

On the way out, I gave the camera to Achan and asked him to click a few awesome shots. I made a bee line to the Phantom (did not even lean on it like it was mine – bah!) and turned around just in time to see one watchman shaking his head and spewing random Kannada syllables to Achan. Another one was walking straight toward me. He shooed me away. Literally. He said “Shooo…(blah blah blah in Kannada) go…no no no“. Ugh. I made another (highly improbable) mental note of someday going back and taking that pic!

Last month, Achan called me up and said a close friend of his from the good old “Lions Club” days of Trivandrum is in Kuwait. He gave me the phone number and told me to reconnect.

Wilson Uncle was someone I saw once a month till I was about 4 years old, I guess. I had a very vague memory of him being this bespectacled man who used to joke that I’m his girlfriend and that he was going to marry me 😛 I was always terrified of him and potently shy! He was 23 at that time. Every time I saw him, I would shriek and flee! And now, nearly 30 years later, I was meeting him again. And what a meeting that was. I had expected there to be awkward silences and nothing much to talk about, but I had a fabulous few hours!

And the highlight of the meeting: He is the one who introduced me to the insides of a Ghost!

Before picking me up, when he told me to watch for a “blue and white car”, I expected anything but a Rolls-Royce Ghost, of the most amazing blue! My jaw hit floor, and then once I got my bearings back, I hop, skipped and jumped across the road and got inside the most amazing car! 😀 Needless to say, I was too overjoyed to maintain any kind of social behaviour that will fall in the “appropriate” category. I became a complete “jolly villager” and went “Is this your car!? Oooh!” 😀 And when he nodded in the affirmative, went further ahead asking “Your own car, or company car?” He had the most amused expression before he said “own car alright”. 😀 When we stopped for lunch and he switched off the engine, the Spirit of Ecstasy retracted into the bonnet, and I even went “Oh where did that thing go!? 😮” Fine – I didn’t know it worked like that, ok! 🙄

When I got off the car after a rather amazing ride, I was reminded of the watchman who shooed me off from near the Phantom. And here I was, feeling giddy after having sat in another version of the  after-world beings. In your face, Mr Security. In. Your. Face! Ha!

With age comes maturity, and therefore I took no pics. Errr fine – I already told you I was on jolly villager mode. I have a crappy phone, which would do no justice to the photo (plus I am completely camera allergic and I am yet to find a camera that will like what it sees!)

Therefore, the only pics I took were with my eyes. And they’re uploaded on to a special folder in my brain. No share option there. Sad, I know. I’m secretly hoping he will offer to meet again, and come in the Ghost. I will make sure I have a pic of myself behind the wheel 😉

It was an amazing feeling, and I thanked my Achan profusely (but only after duly pulling his leg about where is an Alto and where is a Rolls-Royce) for making a dream like that come true. This is totally why he is the awesomestestest! 😉

insidesofaghost

The insides of a Ghost…as spectacular as its outsides!

Day 10: My greatest support system

What we come to call as “support system” usually are parents, siblings, relatives and the friends you categorise as “best friends”. They’re the ones you can fall back on, without having to feel bad about doing so, knowing full well you’ll be taken care of, even though it is not an entitlement. Only, you sometimes end up taking that for granted. If not the people, then at least the fact that there WILL be a support system.

Until you move out of all your familiarities and face a whole new world.

There is this girl who was my classmate during post-graduation. We were a pretty close-knit class of just 15 students. She was one of the sweetest in the class. She had none of the recklessness I had in me; she had none of the popularity, the stupefying clownness, the annoying self-righteousness, the frustrating over-confidence or the plain damsel-in-distressness that the rest of her classmates had. She was a simple, Mamma’s girl. She did not bunk classes, she did not do anything she feared her parents wouldn’t be proud of, she did not even hate the person who made her everyday life a living hell 😛 I hated that person on her behalf 😛 She was just a very sweet, happy person. I would always remember her as someone who vowed not to get married, but would adopt a girl child because she was fabulous with kids.

But I wouldn’t say she was in my best friend category at that time. Her constant company made it rather difficult for me to figure out how much I could like her 😛 After college life came to an end and we all went our separate lives, though, she and I became much closer. She got married, had a baby girl — and every once in a while, we used to have video chats, where I gurgled to the baby in her own unspoken language. We were pretty pretty close.

And then, I went into hibernation. For about 3-4 years. Our conversations became thrice in a year; once for her birthday, once for mine, and once for Christmas / New Year 😛

When I moved to Kuwait in March 2016, a lot of people assumed I have half my family here (you know all those jokes about half of every Malayali lives in the “Gelf”). I therefore drew a lot of surprise when I said I don’t have anyone in Kuwait. No relatives? Not even friends? Are you sure you’ll be OK there?

Well, I did have friends. I had, 2-3 months prior to relocating, figured out that this girl was in Kuwait (and all the while, I’d been thinking she was in Bahrain, don’t ask me why!) with her husband and daughter. I knew I didn’t want to be a burden for her, especially not after having been in hibernation for so long. And, I’d lost touch in those 4 years.

Or so I thought. I was wrong. She turned out to be my biggest support system ever. 

I cannot imagine the past 7 months in this country, if she hadn’t been here. She took me into her life and home (literally) and we re-connected like there had been never a day that went by without us talking.

I crashed on her couch for almost 15 days, shamelessly making her cook for me (in return I washed the dishes, something I’d never do given a choice :P) in the morning and night. I would put all my clothes into her washing machine and go off to work. In the evening, I walked back to see them all out drying on the clothes stand. She and her husband voluntarily took it up on themselves to help me find a place of my own, took me shopping, told me exactly what and what not to buy from where. We sat up till 12 most nights, reminiscing college and friends and our separate lives and laughing our eyes out. How her husband tolerated the incessant laughter without arranging to have me deported, still beats me 😛

Even now, after all this time, I know I can walk in anytime and not feel like a guest. I still take my laundry to her place and get it done (each time praying her husband won’t kick me out :P) When I get a pizza craving and don’t want to eat alone, I know she’ll tell her husband “She is craving pizzas. Let’s go get some!” 😀 When I need company to buy plants, I know she is ready before I can say “pla”. And when I am depressed and want to bitch about the marabhootham, she is always available 😀 When I am extremely unwell, I know I have someone I won’t be a burden to. When I’m thoroughly bored, I know if I ping her to say that, she will say “Oh come over already” without missing a beat. And man, her humour timing and sense is always reason for a complete riot!

And the best of all — she bakes the most awesome cakes. And if that wasn’t enough, she recently attended a bread making class and now makes beautiful croissants and focasias and what nots. OK – I haven’t tasted them yet, but well, got to be awesome.

Well, cake or no cake, I’m super glad to have her for a friend. The kind of friend you know isn’t “just a friend”.

What would I do without you, Deepti!? Thank you for everything you do, for being you! 🙂

Day 4: How dreams work…

…is really bizarre. Just when you either forget your dream, or you think it’s never going to happen, pop it comes to life!

Back in 2014, a few months after I joined Accenture, I was catching up with a friend from college. He had been a long-time Accenture employee, and after I got the offer letter from Accenture, I was planning on hunting him down on Lync (now Skype for Business) and saying “Huha!”

Only, I joined, and promptly forgot all about him. A good two months later, he pinged me on WhatsApp asking “You work at Accenture?! And you never told me!” Took me a good while to convince him that I had been just too busy. He kept going, “Busy? So soon after joining? Aaaand you expect me to believe that!?” Let me be honest, I did try to find out what team he was part of, that did not have to work like mine did.  He gave me the name of the team, and I promptly forgot that as well.

So anyway, we got to talking about life at Accenture…and he asked me how I’m liking it. I told him I could not be happier. That’s when he said he is not just happy for me, but also rather proud of me for having achieved my dream. “Eh, what dream?” I went. He chuckled and told me about how, while in college, I was totally gung-ho about Accenture and totally confident that “I will work in Accenture someday”. I was stunned when I heard that.

And it all came rushing back. Those days of the Tiger Woods advertisements — which signed off with “High performance. Delivered”, convincing me every time that this is where I should be working some day. Those days of “Where do you see yourself five years from now?” and I always had the same answer: Accenture. Those days of going “Accenturrrrrrrrrrrrrrrre” every now and then. I could not believe I forgot about all that, or that he remembered! In fact, he went on to tell me that when he got his offer letter four years before I did, he was apparently reminded of me!

Those were the closing days of college life. Also a reality-hits-you-whack-on-the-face period when you realize that dreams aren’t always enough — and that Accenture isn’t quite at the next corner, waiting to frisk you off. Somewhere between end of college and a wrong placement and “God, why me!?” moments, the “accent” on my dream seemed to have lost way.

I do not quite remember when exactly the thought of becoming a copywriter in an advertising agency popped into my head. And once an idea pops, there is no turning away.  There was a period of job-hunt, where agency after agency turned me down for having “no relevant work experience”. I still remember how I got so exasperated at a big-shot advertising agency (I shall spare the name) during the interview, looked furiously at the Creative Director and said “Unless one of you give me the damn job, how will I get this damn experience you’re looking for!?” Needless to say, that interview wrapped up very quickly and I did not get the job!

Well-meaning friends and relatives asked me to take a shot at BPO firms. “What! How can you even suggest that to me!” Why there was an aversion, I do not know. No one in my family ever worked in a BPO firm. None of my close friends did. There was really no first-hand information about how life would be in a BPO firm. For some strange reason, I had this terrible picture in mind of being a BPO employee. Never; a BPO firm is one place where you will never find me, I swore to no one in particular.

Well, persistence paid off…and I finally got into advertising and became a copywriter. I enjoyed it so much, I think I subconsciously washed away all “IT companies” off my must-work-at wishlist, wanting only to be in a highly creative, buzzing advertising agency. I worked at that boutique agency for over two years. On most days, I saw stars, constellations and many galaxies, all at the same time. It was grueling, like how (but there is nothing I’m more grateful to in life today than my “orientation” and tenure there)!

Anyway, I moved on from there into the digital/online marketing space. And then I changed track from pure “copywriting” to “marketing writing”, and then to “business writing”…which lead me into the world of technology companies. After a point, I’d written so much about complex technologies and servers and storage and hardware and software, I just could not call myself “technologically challenged” any longer!  Fact remained that I still did not remember the “Accenture” dream!

Somewhere, I always hoped I could get back into the world of fun and frolic and endless work that’s the standard recipe in an advertising agency. I wanted to once again be part of a highly creative, buzzing place: where work could drive you crazy and the lack of it could drive you crazier!

Let me tell you dear people…the last place I expected to find a place like that, was in an “IT company”, in its BPO vertical! In Accenture, my once-up-on-a-time dream company. Aaaaand, in a highly creative, buzzing advertising agency snugly cocooned in a corporate setup! If that’s not the coolest, what is!?

Dreams — one that was forgotten and one that was fervently wished for — both came true together! Woohooo! This is where I say: life’s been good!

I suppose when the sleep’s been had well, even the best of dreams comes to an end. Only to make way for the next night’s sleep, and a new dream. 

So it happened. Another dream I’d tucked away into the “never going to happen” box sprang to life. The one of moving out of India. I had been nurturing a long-time dream of moving to the Europe. Or Australia. Or Canada. I guess if you’re not clear about specifics, the dream decides where it wants to take you.

So, while the route map didn’t work as well as I thought it would, I still realized half of that dream. It landed me in Kuwait. No worries. I’ll just ask Google to re-route me. I’ll be on my way soon. As for how I’m liking it in Kuwait, that’s a whole (number of) other post(s)!

Now, there is just one more in the list. If that one comes true, life in its entirety will be a dream! Hope, hope, soooooo hope!

How dreams work…really is bizarre. Ever had any of yours come true so without warning like these?