Keshta Beta-i Chor

Today is fault-finding day. Worst part being – I’m not the one finding faults with the rest of the world, like I generally do all day long. Today this bitch is having her day. Everyone’s bitching about me, and to my face! Is it my fault the bloody markets crashed? My fault that a rogue circular, some smart people who call themselves the Fed and the London Metal Exchange decided to ruin everyone’s day to the tune of 4 lac crore bucks? Dude, I can’t even dream up that kinda moolah. Still, the clients who used to swoon over my voice over the phone are calling and screaming at me in unattractively loud voices. And not just because of the crash. Part of my job as of now is to ensure a smooth handover from my predecessor, in simpler terms, weaning away clients from his old manager to a new one. Again, it is not my fault that I was a greenhorn, so this happened after three months of the last guy leaving. Not that it is my boss’s fault either, but a couple of clients who pride themselves on their financial acumen, and who probably fought with their wives in the morning or the night before or had their toasts burnt, decided to give me a taste of their medicines. Add to that the suicidal Sensex and voila!

To add insult to injuries. My Old Boss is leaving, and he is also undergoing a similar handover process. He has to hand things over to New Boss, who is one enthu-cutlet. In the last 4 hours he has poked his nose in my business about 400 times. Not to mention 4000 peeks in my mailbox. OK, so I exaggerate. Big friggin deal. And he’s not even cute. Anyway, when I asked Old Boss about mad clients, New Boss decided to amble in. I shut up immediately. Old Boss mumbled something like ‘vildikusitlettr’ and fell silent. Later, the man chose to call me into his cabin and give me what he thinks was a ‘fatherly chiding’ about me blabbing about clients in front of New Boss. I’m dumbfounded. Am I supposed to keep this data confidential to keep up the guy’s image, so New Boss can later make a fool of himself and then rip me apart further, because I’m the second-in-command? Nice try. And to think I had actually shut up when New Boss came in.

Now Old Boss is sad about leaving. He really loves this branch. He has become a father figure for his subordinates. And he is taking his depression out too, on poor-ole-me. What is this sponge-like quality I tend to display, that all and sundry can dump their misgivings on to me, so I can go ahead and post my own on this why-me post? If I wanna take off for a solitary drive, it’s my fault for not listening to daddy, because itty-bitty-baby-boo can’t drive on her own yet for chrissakes. If after a long day of dealing with clients, I don’t have the presence of mind to not babble in front of boyfriend, it’s my fault for not having the courtesy to string two sentences together coherently. If I ask for clarifications from Old Boss, (come on, asking questions is good!) it’s my fault for not selecting the right opportunity. It’s my fault I did my job and got people to invest, and it’s my fault that markets tanked. It’s totally my fault that Barca won. And it will be my fault when Spain takes home the World Cup. (I hate footy. I’m just doing this to seem cool, in retaliation to a ‘How to reach cool-dom’ post, which was plain uncool. But yeah, you can’t find fault with my general knowledge.)

Ok, I’m done. It’s Saturday again, and I drink to forget.

JA KICHHU HOLEI GINNI BOLEN, KESHTA BETA-I CHOR…