The terror called resignation letter

It’s an epidemic. And it’s contagious. Also it brings along with it other diseases. Diseases that recent study has shown can kill one. Yes, I am talking about none other than the most dangerous illness of all time, RESIGNATION. And that too not by you but by a very close colleague of yours. It makes you feel as if you have been left behind in quicksand and you are disappearing fast.

Its symptoms itself are killing. First when this word is uttered in the company of your group, which by the way is the rope that is keeping your head above that quicksand, you will feel numbness. Cold numbness. Then you will start counting how many are left with you to bear the oppression of stale coffee and bad food? How many are left who see the man responsible for all your pimples and hair loss? How many are left who understand why even the thought of buying a dress worth 5oo bucks makes your mind a super computer (a brain that had difficulty passing math exam in school)

When one is done counting those who are still left to bear the burden of earning money, one starts wondering about that lucky contestant who has won the ticket to freedom. That one person who has broken from the shackles of comforting chairs and a pay slip every 30 days. That one person who just might get up and do what he or she really wants to do in life (that of course doesn’t happen often as once an office goer always an office goer). Anyway there is always a chance that this one person will make you feel like a mill worker for the rest of your life. There is a chance that he or she might become what you wanted to be, but could never ever save enough to say the words ‘just do it’.

Why does this happen? It’s very simple. Office is a synonym for a ‘dead mans world’. Wherever you look around there is a blank stare which is a suggestion that no one knows what they are doing here or even why? That is why terms like ‘deadline’ were coined by corporate workers. It really is a deadline. If you work in accordance with it, it’s like walking your death row, and if you don’t then even god can’t save you. So, it’s simply a matter of choosing your death really. One can either die in peace or in chaos.

And as we all know, those who suffer similar miseries make best of friends. And when one of these friends even suggests that they might just leave you alone to deal with the wretched game of earning, they inevitably pass on the burden of their misery on you.

In the past 6 months, I had to bear this additional burden twice. First time around, I had Bindi (who by the way is the BBC world of network 18 and thus have contacts all around), who helped me deal with the towering sensitivity that I had developed towards my colleagues behavior, after Bharti left. Now it’s Bindi leaving and along with her goes my daily dose of wittiness by Gayathri.

My reaction? HELP!!!! The worst part was that I couldn’t even discourage them from leaving. It’s because I have been cursed with a good heart and I knew that they were really UNHAPPY (yes in bold letters too). So, I of course had to be all supportive and understanding, when actually I just wanted to tie them in their chairs and make them stay. Till I save enough to leave with them at least.
However, since the ball is not in my court anymore, I guess all I can do is wish them the best in life and count the days till I can leave this constant pain in my shoulders and that blank stare behind.