Major churning going on inside the cranium. The other day I attended a conference, where the thrust was on transition in thought culture. The long and short of the three hour brainstorming was that one should forget their individuality and tune their frequency to match that of the company.
It was during the conference that my brother's words began making sense. We are subjected to brainwashing from the moment we take birth till we die, he said the previous night, adding that it took 18 years of tutelage to condition a human mind to be a lifelong slave. Schools are notorious for such mindless training wherein individualistic trend is nipped in the bud to make way for herd mentality. While most of the participants were paying rapt attention to the speaker's grandstanding, I let my thought wander. Sometime during the meandering, it occurred to me that I should not be attending the meeting and the only unfortunate cause that catapulted me to the epitome of boredom was my dependence on a firm for sustenance. Were I enjoying even an iota of independence, I could have stopped my immediate seniors from forcing me into the conference hall. I began wondering how I could break the shackles and enjoy any kind of freedom. It was the word freedom that gave me an idea: become a freelancer.
These days, most companies prefer consultants over on-roll employees. This saves them the burden of paying up for the mandatory incentives and investing in their staff. While so, the companies expect loyalty and gratitude of the prospective and retrospective employees. However, when employees are treated as mercenaries, gratitude does not even come into the picture. The loyalty of a mercenary is always with the highest bidder. This fleeting loyalty manifest by the floating mercenary is neither long-term nor sustainable, for there is always somebody out there loosening the purse strings for an extra pair of hands. Handling these thoughts, walked out of the conference and dozed off in my car, meditating on the disturbing implications of my deliberations. When I woke up, I had a mission, a plan formulated.
Late that night, I uploaded my profile on job aggregating sites and the very next morning got a call from a New York-based magazine, offering work-from-home solution to my problems. I have passed their two levels of tests and hopefully would get through. The option of working from home seems feasible and relaxing. Here, in my current position, I am entirely dependent on one single factor for my monthly sustenance whereas a freelancing job or a work-from-home offer would afford me more time to take up additional gigs and work on future plans. Need to retire by 40 to my farm and live a life one with nature. So this is what I intend to do.
Did not go to office today. It is surprising because I was one of those people who would rather live in their office than go home. Maybe my new immediate senior has got something to do with it. Not that she is particularly annoying or singularly harassing, I find the fact that she exists quite disturbing. It's easy for one to work under someone he respects, however, those who are propelled to higher positions only because they possess the gift of gab affects the unfortunate lot that has to work under them. I find the use of words 'team leader' quite disturbing. A leader is someone who inspires you to shed your inhibitions, handholds you to newer heights and is a calming presence in the face of visible dangers. She lacks all these attributes in good measure. I find it difficult to subject myself to the whims and fancies of those who are not even half as good as I'm. Maybe, this change of guard too had a role to play in my transformation from a reliable foot soldier to a freelancer.
Now that I'm set for a sea change in life, I think there might be many an incidental benefit as well. For starters, I can move to Kerala and buy a small holding till my plans pan out. Secondly, Mother and Caesar too can join me over there. Mother does not like the city climes owing to the air of strangeness that envelops all who reside here. And Caesar can enjoy a semblance of liberty he has never tasted, again owing to the concrete jungle and the scum that calls it home. Maybe, by the end of next year, I can make my move. Hopefully, by that time I would be well entrenched in my role as a freelancer and my YouTube channel too would materialise.
Another cash crisis has gripped the country. ATMs are running dry and the common man is running from pillar to post to lay hands on his hard-earned money. The chaotic scenes resemble that of November 2016 when the current dispensation in one fell swoop banned high denomination notes. The purported aim was to cleanse the system of black money. The narrative the government built was such that all black money is stashed in offshore banks and demonetisation would essentially reduce their value to lesser than the papers they were printed on. Even my milkman believed the Prime Minister. However, as it usually happens, nothing happened. It somehow did not occur to the couch intellectuals that nobody transports and stashes Indian currency in Swiss Banks. The present crisis is blamed on a few high-withdrawal transactions. Another cock and bull story easily bought by the gullible.
Time to say goodnight to myself.