The beginning of the end

I recently bought myself a new phone…the Nokia E63. Well I sort of exchanged it for my old Samsung phone which to be quite frank, looked fabulous but was marginally better than my old black and white phone from college. And after purchasing the new phone, I’ve slumped into a major depression.

Now before you open a can of ‘I’m your psychologist’ on me, hear me out. The acute depression has come from that fact that I willingly broke one of my golden rules which I had sort of formed in my head, which if broken would signal the death of me….or basically have me surrender free thought and any scope for unconventionality for a steady corporate job. I always thought those manager types with their blackberry type phones were hopeless. I never ever thought it was cool to receive office email on my phone, that’s what the 9-9 gig is for. And no offence to any senior ups reading this, but perpetually working is old school style. Most of my generation does a zillion things, so no offence. And somehow swore I would never willingly buy one of those phones. And here I want to do a million things on my phone, which I could never do on the relatively new Samsung.

And what do I do, I go and buy this. I’m delighted because I can do a zillion things and all these nifty apps. But then, I’ve sold out. It’s over; this was my acknowledgement to life that I am never going to leave the IT industry and all its glory. I’m never going to move out of my comfort zone ever and am going to let conventionality take over me. Next step, work late hours, still remain single, then mummy will hunt for some south Indian bride who post marriage will not allow me to listen to heavy metal or enjoy a good scotch because some good lord said so. And we can kiss non veg goodbye. Will then silently endure working until the end of my days and all my money will go to some stupid kids of mine. That’s it….the end. Thank you and goodnight!

I was chatting with a friend who said that I could have the ‘Rock On’ story happen to me. Madam, let me tell you this….first and foremost, the dude was an investment banker. I still don’t understand how my LIC policy works except that I don’t get money to buy my PS3 right now. I’m a mere manager in an IT company, and we may not admit it, but the rest of the world thinks we are scum. Second, do you honestly think a Prachi Desai type babe will marry me? Have you not seen the way I look? ( I wonder how come a single guy gets love handles?) Last but not least, I have been in many tiny bands, but no one big band…so what band am I getting back to? Nothing. And my ‘Almost Famous’ story isn’t going anywhere either…none of the rock mags want to publish my stuff. (PS: Thanks for trying to cheer me up….but the truth is overwhelming. Okay, not the truth, but the deep dark speculation running through my head)

So this is it my friends, do please come to the funeral. You may not recognize me….I’ll be the overweight, balding IT manager fiddling with his Nokia E63 in the corner. Do bring lilies. I’m not much for flowers, but hey, since we’re any case being conventional going forward, let’s go all the way.

PS: I am now switching to drinking beer as that is the only form of alcohol I can afford, have to pay for the phone na. I think it was this that pushed me over the edge…not the phone. Exchanged scotch whiskey for beer….sigh! It’s all over! And yes, I cannot be optimistic when I've sold myself to this world for the cheapest going rate! And you come to this blog to read about my fairly miserable point of really would be bored if I were blogging about the economy or something!