The pink slip

It was one of those Monday mornings when the alarm clock is ringing and you just like to think that it is one of those bad dreams you get after a long night of binge drinking. But, I knew it was not a dream, it was the morning siren which was the dreaded call from my trading desk. I took the pain of lifting my eyelids to see the blue ceiling. I unwillingly drew my hand from the bare back of Suzanne, afraid of disturbing the sleeping angel at 4:30 in the morning. I dragged my feet into the bathroom and switched on the shower. Cold water falling on my eyes pierced my drowsiness and I fitted myself into my prim blue suit with golden cuff links. I left a "I love you" note for Suzanne and hurriedly ran towards the underground station, it was already 5:10 am.

I picked up my regular copy of "The Metro" and "The Financial Times" and was just in time to catch the 5:30am metro. After going through half a dozen stations while I was immersed in the financial times, the metro halted at the canary wharf and emptied herself from the load of crazy i-bankers hungry to pounce upon the Bloomberg terminal. My book had been losing money for the past two months and the future too did not seem very bright. I was cursing myself for the couple of trades I booked for the new sexy sales associate; they had been devouring money from my account like termites attacking an old log of wood. In the meantime, my legs had been put on the escalator due to which I found myself standing outside the Canary wharf station. I moved a few paces and crossed the road to present myself at the doors of XX, Bank Street. I checked my wrist-watch which said 6:13 am, two minutes left to reach the desk. I hurriedly flashed my ID to the guard and entered the main gate.

I put the electronic id for the office entrance and ........ and........it screeched with a flashing red DANGER sign prohibiting entry. I thought there was some problem with the gate and I tried another one........with the same flustering result. This was enough to draw a security guard in my direction who requested me to join the queue in front of the security office. Hundreds of people forgetting their ids in their bed flock these queues every morning and here I was, at the end of them all. I knew this was going to kill my precious time of studying and preparing myself before the markets open. I muttered some curses and politely waited for my turn. When I reached the counter, I was prepared with a long speech narrating their security flaws and how it eats my valuable time, but restrained myself with a "Could you please look into my id, it is being rejected by the system?". The tall guy, gave me a forced smile and went to his computer to match my records. He looks at the screen, then at my face, moves to his cupboard and brings a big packet and a small envelope for me. He moves near me, his face is showing sings of false sympathy enough to bewilder me. And, then he breaks the golden words which break the virginity of any employee, "Mr. XXX, I am sorry to inform you that your services have been terminated with an immediate effect, please collect your belongings and formal letter".

Visit to Calico Museum

I have been in Ahmedabad for more than a year now, but I never took the trouble to explore this city. One of the disadvantages of a very good campus life, at times, is that the person gets a lot detached from the city in which the campus is situated. So, I decided to use this break to explore things around me. I sought advice from one of my local friends who suggested me to visit Calico museum.

Calico museum is one of the finest textile museums in the world. It houses handicrafts and textiles not only from various parts of India but also from far-flung places liek Egypt and Phillipines. These hundreds of years old fabric are strong evidences of textile trade between these countries.

There are more than 60 rooms containing various varieties of cloth, right from Kashmiri Pashmina wool to Patola and Pichwai. The place boasts of excellent management and a really knowledgeable guide conversant in Gujarati, Hindi and English. The jute work from Bengal on Purdahs, The pichwai depicting various Krishna-lilas and the chitrakathas on the clothes telling various stories were simply captivating. The guide made us tour in a way that we could understand the fine cultural link between the cloth, the era, the people and their culture. How clothes could say about a person's profession, social stature and even religion.

There are a few things that I think should be changed with this museum. First, there is need for extensive publicity of the museum to spread awareness about it. Even the local auto guys do not know where it is. Next, there is need for commercialization of the museum. The free entry can be made into a charged entry and they can entertain people in more shifts. Right now, there is only one shift. Overall, a nice learning experience and some things to know about the great Indian culture and to feel proud about the glorious past. The guide also told us about how various artisans are starving today due to lack of support of the old art and hence, these glorious traditions are dying down an unnatural death. I believe, there is an urgent need to support these craftsmen and an entrepreneur can carve out a profitable export venture with sufficient investments in marketing and branding of these handicrafts.