Begining of the end

Tomorrow the calender page turns over to May marking one whole year since I started blogging. 

Yes, thescarletrealm is now a year old. One wouldn't say it is alive and kicking, certainly not flourishing, but it has stuck by my side. By my side in a year, that in many ways, has been my worst yet.

A year that has seen tears and shame and anguish and loss. And in its own inadequate way, it has stood in as a mute confidante. Been my companion when I wasn't lonely but definitely alone.

Yes, May marks a year of endings and of doors shut softly and firmly on the past.

Ode to Mr. B

I am not someone who is given to easy admiration. Even way back in school, when one had to write essays on "My Heroes" , I was at a loss.



It is not that I am a perpetual critic. I appreciate good work, I compliment people a lot. But it takes a lot for me to admit I admire someone.


And Mr B. is one person who has my unrestrained regard.


Mr B. is not a corny name I came up with for anonymity. It is what everyone at work calls him - behind his back. Yeah, people say a lot of things behind his back.


He is the doyen at work with a razor mind that can zero in on the tiniest details that everyone else misses out. When Mr B. asks you for information, then you check twice, thrice, have a cup of coffee and clear your mind and then check the fourth time and only then - only then do you venture giving him the answer.


And if you are a newbie and you think you can get away with a glib response, "Ha ha". Thats the first and the last time you'd do it.


Because by the time Mr B is done with you, you'd tuck your tail between your legs and go dig a hole to hide in for the rest of your professional life. No, Mr B is not one of the nasty managers who are sarcastic or offensive. He just quietly and persistently makes you trace your line of reasoning , exposing the follies and finally leaving you agape at his astuteness.


And that is why he is not everybody's favourite guy. Its not hard to imagine, is it.


To be honest, he does have his share of foibles. On the rare chances that you have an idea better than his, it is extremely difficult to get him see your point of view.


But a manager's mettle is tested only during the bleakest outage and that is when his leadership shone through.


And today, Mr B. was let go. Made redundant. And that is not a euphemism. That is the word that best explains how the best, brilliant and hardworking lose jobs just because of a currency multiplication factor.



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