on overtime

So it’s 6 pm (my mind stops working after 4.30 pm even after drowning a huge mug of black tea) and I am still working at my terminal as the mindless data keeps inundating my screen with each refresh. Minimize the window and take a peak at greatandhra.com and cricinfo.com. Boss tells me to go home and be online for a conference call latter in the evening. Back home after a sleepy one and half hour train journey doing the usual social networking perambulations waiting for the conference call to come through. Remote logging in and continuing work. And I don’t get paid for overtime ! fml. way too many fml’s in my life these days. fml.

As I sit staring listlessly at the numbers I am transported to the 90’s and start musing about dad’s working hours when we were in Chennai. Dad used to leave at 9 am and be back by 5pm sharp. All the cutting edge research in his lab not holding him back. The moment we used hear the honk honk of his Bajaj Chetak we used to quit playing caroms/wrestling trump cards and jump to books. He would walk in and mom would vent out our list of sins for the evening. A gentle slap here and a harsh ass caning there and we all would sit down,drink tea dipping Britannia biscuits and watch Doordarshan News. Dad rarely did overtime and even if he did, he would take me and bro to his lab so that we too could become young scientists. lol.  Bro like the obedient geeky son would follow him around fingering chemicals and burning hands where as I would sit down and play wolfnstein on the pc. And sometimes mom to would accompany us; all four of us crammed on the Bajaj Chetak navigating the ghat roads of CLRI was a sight to see. haha.

The voice on the other end of the line stirs me out of my reverie “ Sid are the numbers ready ? We have a meeting tomo at 8 AM.” fml.

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