Thursday, October 10, 2024
The Allure of the Cliche
Sunday, October 06, 2024
The Creator is The Child of Her Creation
Wednesday, October 02, 2024
The Almighty and the Wall: A Paradox of Power and Possibility
As a reader, your judgement is always right. However, this post isn't what it may initially seem. Therefore, do not judge it by the first few paragraphs; read it entirely before reacting. Many thanks.
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There’s a question as old as time, one that whispers through the corridors of human thought. It’s a question that lingers, not on the tongues of the devout nor the lips of the skeptical, but somewhere between—where belief and doubt quietly observe one another.
If the Almighty, in His boundless power, can do all things, then could He build a wall so tall, so impenetrable, that even He cannot climb it?
It’s a simple question. And yet, it opens a door to a mystery far deeper than we might first realize. If He can build such a wall, does that not make Him powerless before it? If He cannot, then perhaps His power has limits after all?
This is not just a riddle for the scholars or a puzzle for the philosophers. It is a reflection of the human condition itself—a mirror held up to our understanding of power, control, and the nature of creation. Because at its heart, this paradox is about more than walls or omnipotence. It is about the boundaries we all face, even in our moments of greatest strength.
We, too, build walls, don’t we? Not of stone or brick, but of decisions and desires. We create, in our own lives, situations and choices that sometimes grow larger than we can handle, outcomes that outstrip our own intentions. In many ways, the question of the Almighty’s wall is our question—whether we believe in a higher power or not. It asks us to look at the nature of creation and control.
What happens when what we’ve brought into existence—our own walls, our own choices—begin to limit us? When they rise so high, we can no longer see over them? Are we still in control? Are we, like the Almighty in the paradox, suddenly powerless before what we have made?
Perhaps the deepest lesson of this paradox is not about divinity at all. Perhaps it is about humility. For the very act of creation—whether by a god or by a human—carries within it the risk that what we create might surpass us. That it might defy us. In building the wall, the Almighty doesn’t lose power. He simply becomes a participant in the unfolding story of His creation, just as we do.
And isn’t that the most human thing of all? The realization that power is not about dominance or control, but about the willingness to face what we’ve created, to stand before it and know that sometimes, true strength lies not in climbing over the wall, but in acknowledging that it exists at all.
Here, the theist may find a god who is more than just a figure of infinite power—He is a being who understands the limits that even He cannot escape. And the atheist may see in this question a reflection of humanity’s own journey—how we, too, are bound by the walls we build, yet are defined by how we respond to them.
The paradox remains: Can the Almighty build a wall He cannot scale? Perhaps the answer is not in whether He can or cannot, but in the simple, profound truth that even the limitless are shaped by the things they create. Power is not diminished by the existence of boundaries—it is defined by how we understand and embrace them.
-- Pradeep K (Prady)
Saturday, September 14, 2024
The Evolution of Choosing the "Right" Life Partner: 1990 to Beyond*
1990s: The Age of “Family First”
In the 90s everything seemed so much simpler. Well, sort of. In Britain, chances were high that you’d meet your future spouse in a cozy pub, perhaps over a pint while arguing about which football club had the best shot at the Premier League. Across the Atlantic, Americans were falling in love over coffee and pie in diners, all while channeling their inner 'When Harry Met Sally' fantasies. Life was straightforward; so was love, or at least that's what people told themselves.
In Latin America, romance came with a side of family. Courtship, or El Noviazgo, involved entire households. Sly glances, subtle gestures—always under the watchful eye of parents and relatives—kept things proper, or at least publicly so.
India, meanwhile, was still dominated by arranged marriages. Matrimonial ads in the newspapers read like shopping lists: “Wanted: Educated, fair-skinned bride from a respectable family. Must know how to cook.” And thus, the great Indian matchmaking machine kept churning, parents at the helm.
Over in China, where respect for elders and family was paramount, love followed a predictable, arranged path. Matchmakers still held the reins, and woe betide anyone who dared to veer from tradition. Meanwhile, in Japan, Omiai meetings (formal introductions for marriage) were a regular feature, though hints of rebellion toward love marriages were beginning to stir.
Metaphor of the Era: Choosing a partner in the 90s was like ordering a meal from a set menu—limited options, but you trusted it to be good for you. Your parents did, anyway.
-*-
2000s: The Dawn of Digital Romance
Welcome to the 2000s, where technology awkwardly knocked on the doors of courtship. In the UK and US, Match.com made its debut, where suddenly, browsing potential partners online felt as groundbreaking as the invention of sliced bread. Pubs and bars still held strong, but if you had a dial-up connection, you were possibly flirting through email.
In the Hispanic world, the rise of online communities was starting, though Telenovelas still had an unshakable grip on people’s notions of love—passionate, dramatic, and full of unspoken family feuds. Family remained a steady influence, but digital flirtations began to creep into courtships.
In India, websites like Shaadi.com and BharatMatrimony opened the floodgates for matrimonial match-making. Families clung to their tried-and-true criteria of caste and education, but now with the exciting addition of “online profiles.” The phone call with potential in-laws began with, “I saw your profile online,” which was both terrifying and thrilling.
China, though dipping its toes into the online pool, held firm to the matchmaking tradition. Even so, a few brave souls dared to venture into chat rooms to find love. In Japan, the rise of gōkon (group dating parties) and dating cafes ushered in a slightly more relaxed approach. Dating websites quietly began to emerge like timid cherry blossoms.
Metaphor of the Era: Dating in the 2000s was like upgrading to an early-model smartphone: a few new features, but you still couldn’t shake the old habits.
-*-
2010s: Swipe Right and Step into Chaos
The 2010s will forever be known as the “Swipe Right” decade. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge—you name it, they took the romantic wheel and drove it straight into a world where “the one” was a mere swipe away. In the UK and US, casual dating turned into a well-oiled machine, where pub meetups were swiftly replaced by app notifications: You’ve got a match!
Across Latin America, mobile dating apps made their way into daily life, though the backdrop of traditional values remained. Couples juggled between tradition and modernity, with a quick prayer for Telenovela-worthy love sprinkled in.
India was now juggling between parental pressure and the growing independence of the Tinder generation. By this time, Shaadi.com had found itself competing with Bumble, and “modern” Indian parents started using matrimonial apps with the same fervor as their children used dating apps.
China saw the explosion of dating apps, but also the rise of “marriage markets,” where parents advertised their children’s eligibility in parks—because nothing says modern love like your mom waving a sign that reads: PhD. Seeks wife. In Japan, career-driven singles embraced online dating with open arms, blending tradition with efficiency, as is the Japanese way.
Metaphor of the Era: Dating became like ordering sushi from a conveyor belt—you just hoped your choice wasn’t already taken by the next swipe.
-*-
2020s: Welcome to Algorithmic Love
By the 2020s, love was no longer in the hands of Cupid but rather the hands of an algorithm. Apps claimed they knew what you wanted in a partner better than you did. Compatibility tests, swipe patterns, and even your music playlist were all fed into the digital matchmaking beast.
In Britain and America, couples joked that their dating profiles were now more comprehensive than their CVs. In Latin America, the Catholic Church still blessed relationships, but a swipe to the left was far easier than finding a confession booth.
In India, families started to accept the digital revolution. Tinder profiles that mentioned “family values” were trending, and Shaadi.com now featured sections like “Lifestyle and Horoscope,” to balance millennial independence with ancestral wisdom.
China, ever pragmatic, perfected the art of digital love, while still holding fast to marriage markets and familial involvement. And in Japan, “solo weddings” (where women marry themselves) were on the rise—a testament to the complexity of modern relationships.
Metaphor of the Era: Finding a partner in the 2020s was like asking Google for restaurant recommendations—you didn’t always know what you wanted, but you trusted the algorithm to figure it out.
-*-
2030s and Beyond: The Future of Love
The unpredictable future. But we can always extrapolate. Financial advisers do it all the time, so who can stop me? Here's what I think may happen.
In 2030, selecting a partner will likely involve virtual reality dates where you and your potential mate are AI-curated based on everything from genetic compatibility to shared Netflix preferences.
In the UK and US, holographic dates over dinner will be all the rage, where the awkward first-date silence is filled by an AI assistant whispering fun facts into your ear about your partner's favorite hobbies.
Latin America might see AI matchmakers who analyze your family tree for compatible marriages, ensuring both love and family approval.
In India, matrimonial apps may partner with astrologers, offering real-time horoscope updates based on planetary shifts during your chat.
China, with its obsession for efficiency, might introduce state-sponsored AI matchmaking services—where romance meets bureaucracy. And Japan? Expect robot companions in the dating market, where they’ll make ideal partners for the workaholic crowd.
Metaphor of the Future: Dating in 2030 will be like selecting a partner via Amazon Prime—complete with one-day shipping and easy returns.
-*-
There you have it, from arranged marriages to algorithmic matches and beyond. Yes, we’ve come a long way, but no matter how much technology advances, the real challenge remains the same: love, like life, still remains unpredictable.
-- Pradeep K (Prady)
* This post is based on my own observations, but other people's experiences ;-)
Wednesday, September 11, 2024
The Dam of Shamelessness
Monday, September 09, 2024
Earth Isn't a Place for Humans
Take, for example, the grocery store safari. What was meant to be a five-minute milk run quickly escalates into an endurance race, complete with shopping cart jousting and the eternal struggle to find the perfectly ripe avocado—only to give up and grab a bag of chips instead. And don’t even get me started on group projects, where teamwork often resembles a chaotic game of “Who Can Do the Least.”
So, buckle up and grab some popcorn, because navigating the absurdities of human life is always a wild ride. You won’t find this level of comedy on Netflix, I promise.
While humans do excel at inventing things to make life easier, sometimes these innovations lead us straight into a comedy of errors. We've all seen those inventions that seem brilliant at first, only to leave us scratching our heads. Take, for example, the electric shoe polishers you see in hotels. They seem like a great idea until you realize that most people still prefer the old-school method with a brush and polish tin.
Then there are the tech gadgets that make you question whether anyone bothered to test them before selling them to the public. Who can forget that infamous "smart" water purifier that kept sending alerts to your phone every time someone drank water? Yes, because in a country where water scarcity is a real issue, what we really need is a daily reminder of how often we sip from our own bottles.
And let’s not forget the hilarious product reviews on shopping sites. You know the ones—where enthusiastic customers rave about their new "automatic chapati maker," only to find out it produces something closer to frisbees than fluffy rotis. Human creativity is boundless, but practicality sometimes takes the scenic route.
Speaking of the scenic route, our outdoor adventures often become tales of comedic disaster. For example, camping should come with a giant disclaimer—“Proceed with caution: May result in unexpected disasters and regretful memories.” Sure, we all love the romantic idea of sitting by a campfire, roasting marshmallows, and gazing at the stars, but reality often turns that dream into a comedy of errors.
Consider the case of Rajesh, who confidently went camping with his friends, only to realize he had no idea how to pitch a tent. Spoiler alert: by the end of the night, his tent resembled more of a collapsed lung than a cozy shelter, and he found himself huddled under a tree, shivering through the night. Then there’s Priya, who decided to bring her culinary skills to the great outdoors—only to discover that neither wild animals nor her fellow campers were particularly fond of her gourmet paneer tikka that got scorched over an uneven campfire.
And let’s not forget the endless debate between traditional camping and its luxurious cousin, glamping. Glamping is essentially for those who enjoy the idea of being in nature—as long as nature includes Wi-Fi, air conditioning, and a plush bed. Why rough it in the wild when you can experience the great outdoors from the comfort of an air-conditioned tent with all the amenities of a 5-star hotel?
Maybe it’s time we reconsider traditional camping altogether for the safety of everyone involved—or at least require a crash course on how not to trip over your own tent stakes while trying to show off your "survival skills." After all, nature is stunning on its own; it doesn’t need our slapstick comedy routines to make it more entertaining.
And as we bumble through our everyday human experiences, Mother Nature seems to be laughing along with us. When it comes to nature, humans are about as competent as that friend who adopts a pet, only to realize they can’t even keep a cactus alive. You know the type—excited about the idea of turning their desk into a lush jungle, but panicking when the office plant starts to droop. Spoiler alert: it’s usually because they forgot plants need water.
Take the office plant saga, for example. We bring these poor things into our fluorescent-lit cubicles with dreams of creating a mini rainforest, only to watch as they slowly wither away, probably from boredom. It's not that we lack good intentions—just the skill set to match. And then there’s that one time you got ambitious and tried growing herbs on your windowsill. Remember the hopeful basil that turned into a crispy relic of your gardening ambitions? Yeah, that didn’t end well.
And weekends? Oh, they’re our chance to tackle the wilds of our backyards. Armed with optimism and a rusty trowel from last year’s garage sale, we march into battle with Mother Nature. A few hours later, we stagger back inside, covered in dirt, sweat, and a deep sense of regret, realizing that planting isn’t just tossing seeds around and waiting for magic.
So, while our thumbs may not be as green as we’d like, at least we can laugh about our gardening disasters. And hey, if that office plant is still hanging in there despite us, maybe there’s hope after all.
But then, welcome to the comedy club of climate change, where Mother Nature has decided to showcase her own stand-up routine with every unexpected weather twist! While we humans fret over melting glaciers and rising pollution levels, the Earth seems to be sitting back with a grin, saying, "Oh, you thought you were in control? Watch this!"
Take India's infamous monsoon season, for example. Ever noticed how it rains exactly when you least expect it—right in the middle of a hockey match or just when you’ve left home without an umbrella? It’s as if nature is playfully reminding us, “Nice try planning your day around the weather, but I’m still in charge!”
And what about those random weather surprises? One moment, you’re basking in cool winter mornings, and the next, you're sweating through an unexpected heatwave in December. Or better yet, that bizarre summer hailstorm that turns your front yard into a mini snowfield, leaving everyone scratching their heads. It's as if the environment is playing its own prank on us, just to keep things interesting.
But perhaps Mother Nature's favorite joke is when she throws in those unpredictable twists—like flooding the streets the minute after you've washed your car, or sending a gust of wind just as you hang your freshly laundered clothes out to dry. So, the next time you find yourself grumbling about the erratic weather or unexpected climate events, remember—nature’s just having a laugh. Maybe it's time we joined in on the fun too!
Well, as we fumble through our misadventures, there’s another species that might be observing us from afar—aliens. If they exist, they’re probably steering clear of Earth, and who can blame them? After all, have you seen our reality shows and social media challenges? If I were an alien cruising through the galaxy in my high-tech spaceship, I'd hit the warp drive the moment I picked up signals from Bigg Boss or the latest bizarre trend on Instagram.
Imagine this: a group of aliens gathered around their galactic travel guide. They flip to the section on Earth and see a chapter titled, "UFO Sightings and Other Human Oddities." The first line reads, "Humans claim they've spotted us—what they actually saw was their neighbor flying a kite too close to a drone." Cue the extraterrestrial laughter! Alien humor must really be out of this world, but they’d probably get a kick out of our confusion.
Add I that the general chaos on our planet. From climate debates that resemble a poorly written soap opera to viral challenges that involve people doing dangerous stunts for likes, it’s no wonder the aliens are giving us a hard pass. They’re probably thinking, “Why risk landing on a planet where people willingly eat chili powder just for views?” So the next time you spot a suspicious light in the sky or think you've seen a UFO, it might just be an alien making a swift exit from our global circus!
At the cosmic level, it's clear that Earth isn’t exactly the poster child for harmonious living. From our hilarious misadventures with nature to our questionable innovations and cringe-worthy reality shows, we humans seem to have perfected the art of chaos. But hey, that’s what makes life on this little blue planet so entertaining, right?
Let’s wholeheartedly accept our cosmic misplacement and learn to laugh at the absurdity of it all. After all, humor is the one thing that keeps us grounded—or at least stops us from pulling our hair out when nature strikes back or when our camping trips go hilariously wrong. And who knows? If things get too wild, there’s always Nebulon-5*, a place where the grass might actually be greener, and the aliens might just welcome us with open tentacles.
* Nebulon-5: A peaceful, civilized haven in the Milky Way, home to three distinct planetary life forms, and now offering open tickets for earthlings. Cosmic coordinates available upon request—just ask in the comments.
-- Pradeep K (Prady)
Monday, September 02, 2024
The Happiness Hustle: Unmasking the Great Contentment Con
(Satire alert)
In a land not so far away, nestled between the Mountains of Misery and the River of Routine, there lay the Kingdom of Contentment. Or so it was called, though few who lived there could claim to have ever seen this elusive state. The citizens of this kingdom were like the rest of us: busy, bewildered, and forever on the brink of a nervous breakdown, despite the kingdom's promising name.
In truth, Contentment was a place of constant turmoil. You see, the King—let’s call him King Perpetua—had long declared that happiness was the birthright of every citizen. Naturally, this decree set off a chain of events that plunged the kingdom into perpetual discontent. For when happiness is promised, it becomes an obsession, a quest, and ultimately, a commodity.
Enter the alchemists. These weren't the traditional alchemists who busied themselves with turning lead into gold. No, these were the Alchemists of Happiness, the self-proclaimed purveyors of eternal bliss. They roamed the kingdom in brightly colored caravans, each more garish than the last, peddling their wares to the desperate masses. Their potions came in a variety of flavors: "The 10-Step Elixir to Joy," "Gratitude Tonic," and "Mindfulness Mead," each promising to unlock the secrets of perpetual happiness.
Of course, these potions were nothing more than cleverly marketed mixtures of snake oil and wishful thinking. But the citizens, forever in search of that elusive contentment, lined up to purchase them with the fervor of pilgrims seeking salvation. Each morning, they would gather in the marketplace, clutching their gold coins, ready to trade their hard-earned wealth for a vial of hope.
And hope, it seemed, was always just one vial away.
In the royal court, King Perpetua watched with a mixture of amusement and concern. He had long ago discovered that the quest for happiness was the most effective way to keep his subjects distracted from the more pressing issues of governance. So, rather than curb the activities of the alchemists, he quietly endorsed them, granting licenses to those who promised the most outlandish results.
But as the years passed, something peculiar began to happen. The citizens, having tried every potion, attended every seminar, and read every scroll on the subject, started to grow weary. They had followed every alchemist’s advice to the letter, and yet happiness remained as elusive as ever.
It was then that a new figure appeared on the scene: a mysterious stranger known only as The Sage of Enough. Unlike the alchemists, The Sage carried no potions, no scrolls, no step-by-step guides. Instead, he wandered the streets with nothing but a simple question: "What if happiness isn’t something to be found, but something to be let go?"
Naturally, this approach was met with skepticism. After all, the alchemists had taught the citizens that happiness was a prize to be pursued, a destination at the end of a long and arduous journey. The idea that it might be something simpler—something already within them—was as shocking as it was heretical.
Yet, despite their doubts, the citizens began to listen. Slowly, they realized that the relentless pursuit of happiness had been their undoing. They had become so fixated on the idea of finding it that they had forgotten to live it. The more they chased after it, the further it seemed to slip from their grasp.
The Sage’s teachings spread throughout the kingdom, much to the dismay of the alchemists. Their caravans, once overflowing with customers, began to dwindle. The citizens, it seemed, were starting to understand that happiness wasn’t a potion to be bought or a secret to be unlocked. It was something much simpler—a byproduct of living, rather than the goal.
And so, the Kingdom of Contentment began to change. The citizens still gathered in the marketplace, but now they came not to buy, but to share. Stories, laughter, and the occasional loaf of bread were exchanged, and the alchemists, now out of business, took up new trades—bakers, blacksmiths, and the like.
King Perpetua, for his part, was relieved. His kingdom was finally living up to its name, though not in the way he had expected. The pursuit of happiness had ended, not with a grand discovery, but with a quiet acceptance. Contentment, it turned out, wasn’t something to be chased. It was something to be realized, often when one least expected it.
And so, life went on in the Kingdom of Contentment, where happiness was no longer an obsession, but a quiet companion—always present, if only one stopped long enough to notice.
-- Pradeep K (Prady)
Monday, August 26, 2024
Life: The Incurable, Fatal Disease We Catch at Birth
The Power of Simple Habits for Staying Organized
Saturday, August 17, 2024
The Roundabout to Mukti
Life, dear chums, is not unlike our good friend, Shri Hariprasad Bhandari – a man known far and wide for his unyielding determination to reach the grand City of Mukti. Hariprasad was no ordinary soul; he had an insatiable appetite for advice and sought it from only the most eccentric minds in the village, each of whom, naturally, had their own wildly inventive perspectives.
One fine morning, Shri Hariprasad, with his trusty dog, Bhola, set off, determined to follow the first bit of wisdom he’d received: “Head east,” advised Pandit Tripathi, a gentleman known for wearing particularly elaborate dhotis and claiming to have achieved peace through the perfect cup of chai.
So off Hariprasad went, with a spring in his step, only to be stopped in his tracks by Mrs. Manorama Iyer, the society matriarch who declared with utmost certainty that south was the true direction. “I once traveled south, you see, and found the most delightful silk sarees!” she exclaimed. Naturally, Hariprasad, ever the gentleman, switched his course southward, while Bhola wagged his tail with a mix of bewilderment and boredom.
But alas, not long after, along came the venerable Professor Gurunathan, a retired schoolteacher who, in between telling tales of his youthful exploits, insisted that the west held the real treasure. “It’s where the sunsets are most magnificent!” he declared, before promptly losing his train of thought mid-sentence.
Feeling obliged to respect the wisdom of age, Hariprasad adjusted his stride towards the west, Bhola loyally padding along. Of course, just as expected, young Vikram Sharma, a fresh engineering graduate with more ideas than experience, appeared and insisted that north was where all secrets lay. Hariprasad, not one to turn down the advice of the educated, veered northward without so much as a second thought.
Days turned into weeks, and there was poor Shri Hariprasad, right back where he’d started – in the middle of a roundabout. Yes, dear chums, quite literally going in circles. Bhola, by now, had taken to sighing loudly, his patience stretched as thin as Hariprasad’s footwear.
It was at this precise moment that our hero had an epiphany: the more directions he followed, the more he found himself... nowhere. Sitting down on a bench with a resigned huff, Hariprasad resolved to follow just one piece of advice, from just one voice. It was the humble old chaiwala, Dharmu Bhai, who, while pouring tea from a height, wisely suggested, “Pick a direction, bhaisaab, any direction, and stick to it. The journey may be long, but the destination won’t move.”
Hariprasad nodded gravely, and for the first time in ages, decided not to ask for further guidance. He chose east – for Pandit Tripathi’s chai *was* exceptionally good – and pressed forward with determination. And wouldn’t you know it, chums? Some weeks later, Hariprasad and Bhola reached the City of Mukti, where Bhola enjoyed his fill of rest and Hariprasad found inner peace... along with a well-brewed cup of tea.
The lesson is clear: while advice may pour forth as freely as chai at a roadside stall, one must pick a direction and a single mentor to reach any destination worth arriving at. Otherwise, you may end up endlessly wandering – which, while beneficial to cobblers, is rather less useful for one’s spiritual journey.
-- Pradeep K (Prady)
Sunday, August 04, 2024
The Ring of Fire: Through the Flames of Growth
Sunday, July 28, 2024
The Art of Problem Solving in Software Development
Sunday, July 21, 2024
A Tale of Two Rabbits
Tuesday, July 16, 2024
Harnessing Patterns: Your Path to Success
Sunday, July 14, 2024
Zenon and the Ants
Saturday, June 29, 2024
The Wise Owl's Lesson on Unity
Saturday, June 01, 2024
Elegance Amidst the Oinkers
Saturday, May 25, 2024
My Friend is (Un)Thrilled
My friend is unthrilled today. Oh! Do pardon me for that jarring discrepancy. It is one of the curses of being a regular writer. There comes a point when I forget the bindings of a formal dictionary, and start coining new words to record the extremes that I observe or experience around me. With observation and experience as my teachers, and with expressiveness being the only end, I've been known to toss out dictionaries and to go forth with firm faith that my word will fit right in and make sufficient sense to most of my readers. Haven't failed yet.
Well, getting back to the topic at hand, the friend works with a tech startup of sorts. I mean to say, it's a firm that can be called a startup today for mere technicality. At one time it was actually what it quite unabashedly claims to be today: a startup. At that distant time it had an amazing run; those were it's golden days. With a huge share of the market in its basket, it was ruling the tech space it served. It hadn't the ostentatious overheads of the multinationals, nor the associated idiosyncracies. Among non-technical staff, they had a simple, but efficient accounts manager, an amiable young woman for a HR executive, a couple of assistants to the directors, and a couple of housekeeping and tea-making staff. That's the place my friend had started his career at. And I daresay he was happy then.
Until the M&A changed the scene. Well, as they say, when it rains, it pours. This change lead to a series of changes and corporate adjustments. Each sediment brought in another layer of a dirty domain of dominance to bear upon the unsuspecting original employees. The long and short of it is that now my friend is troubled immensely by a brand new Head of HR.
Now, I daresay he was in one of his exalted moods even last month around his pay day. The amount seemed slightly larger than usual. He put it down to the probability that they had released a couple of months' arrears on his increment along with his regular salary. When he told me, it had seemed even to me to be a reasonable supposition. Understandable, he was quite the party host that day. He was thrilled, you see.
But I know you remember the creative word in my first sentence, which was that my friend is unthrilled today. This pay day, he got about thirty per cent less than his regular pay. There were no explanations given. In fact, there was complete radio silence from the Head of HR until he called her and pointed out the discrepancy.
When the explanation did come, it was worse than none. It seems that the previous month's increase wasn't the result of any arrears being released as we had supposed, but was the ill impact of a blunder on the part of HR, where a portion of somebody else's salary was posted into the accounts of my dear friend. And this month, they've silently rectified their blunder by deducting the said amount from his accruals.
Such an event begs us to question the authenticity of the qualifications and of the competence of the said HR Head and her team. Not only about such a blunder, but also, and even more importantly, about the all round silence maintained about it. The lack of even the basic courtesy to communicate this with the affected employee and to apologize for one's mistake. This lack is a gaping hole that raises serious doubts about the integrity and professionalism of the concerned HR personnel.
Well, that, and my friend is quite unthrilled today.
-- Pradeep K (Prady)
#OfficeHumor #CorporateLife #WorkplaceWoes #HRHumor #FunnyStories #Satire #WorkplaceDrama #OfficeAntics #CorporateComedy #FunnyFail