Know More Nonsense: January 2008

Last week, i moved to Hyderabad following the footsteps of great people like MF Hussain, Chara Naveen, Mohammad Azharuddin , Balakrishna and Priyatham, half of whom, for the record, have done nothing useful as such. But nevertheless i am happy i can now drive on roads i know and relieve my frustration by parking the car on the 9th level of the office parking tower.

Like you expect, i have nothing to do these days except going to office in my "business attire" and attending a few "brainstorming" sessions during the "business hours" ; which translates to: wear a tie , go straight to the cafeteria and sip a Frappe for as long as you can while discussing Mallika Sherawat with your colleague .And use terms like "Client network interface", "total quality assurance" and "unwanted body hair" while your superiors are around. Really works.

So get this: Am not doing anything productive these days.But then i realise 'All play and no work makes Jack a mere toy" and sit contemplating if this is really what i wanted to do? A year ago. No, 5 years earlier. Or even better 10 years ago. What was my dream job 10 years ago i ask myself honestly. I have my answer and though it might sound outrageous to some; i really wanted to be a 'Tennis ball boy'.

That was the time when i used to love my sport and to me every ball i owned was worth its weight in gold. I always dreamt of a room packed with tennis balls and i imagined myself swimming in that pool of balls, throwing some of them at the wall , catching them in the rebound and shouting "The real jonty is here!!!!!". Bliss, it was.

As if this love for balls wasn't enough, i learnt from some of my 'knowledgeable" friends that a ball boy earns around 100 rupees a match. I couldn't care less about why and how they came to that figure but all i knew was each rubber-ball cost 3 bucks.Though dividing 100 by 3 exactly was not exactly easy then, but i figured out i would get around 30 after each match with "my" money. I wouldn't have to jump over compound walls, apologize to people for breaking their window panes or say "Sorry!!! Last time" to my mom again. For i would have so so many balls to play with.

That was then. Fast forward 10 years and here i am still thinking about how good that job must be.

"Business Attire" would look like :