Monday, October 22, 2007


It's been nigh 15 months since I joined my job, and after the initial honeymoon of the first few months had gotten over, I had settled into a staid, stultifying, low energy, low enthu routine - where I would work just enough to satisfy my boss - and never go the extra mile. Until now.

I am liking this assignment - I stay late for work a lot now, but am cribbing less about it. The work is fun, and I am taking extra responsibilities and doing them well. What has been the impulse for this change? I am not too sure, but a combination of greater respect of my abilities by my current boss, resolution of several past hangups, acceptance of my limitations vis-a-vis my other colleagues and satisfaction about my current state in life (and love-life) - all these have led to it.

I am not too worried about my career these days - I had done badly in an assignment a few months back and now that expectations from me are low, I can finally look above them and see myself doing better.

I read a poem by Longfellow the other day, and have fallen in love with it; am reproducing it fully here:

The Rainy Day

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.

My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
And the days are dark and dreary.

Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.

Indeed, into each life, some rain must fall :)


Atish said...

Nice :)

cathatfished said...


OUT of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance 5
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade, 10
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate: 15
I am the captain of my soul.