Living and working in Gurgaon - albeit for 2 years already, and perhaps for several more months is very much like dreaming.. sometimes it is more nightmare than dream..but definitely a transitory break from reality.
So here is how the good dream goes.
The alarm goes off at 5:30am every morning. I step out of bed, looking forward to the day. I complete my morning ablutions, change into my workout clothes - the ones that show off my newly emerging muscles - and by 6:15 my trainer Archana arrives. We go through a varied routine every morning - some cardio, some breathing, some crunches, some stretches.. and by the time she leaves an hour later - I am energized and ready to face anything the day will bring forward.
The first thing the day brings forward, is Salyani with my tea. I drink my tea while I scan my mail and chat with colleagues in other countries, perhaps finish up a conference call or 2.
Tea finished, I get ready for the office. I pick out my clothes from the cupboard, where Salyani has hung them after washing, mending and ironing after the last time I wore them. After eating my freshly made wholesome breakfast - roti , sabji and chaash, I go downstairs.
Mukesh the chauffeur is waiting with the car right outside. In the car are my briefcase and lunch box. Lunch box packed with fresh cut fruit in an ice pack, and a water bottle wrapped in another ice pouch.
I go to the office, where my assistant - Tanuja in Okhla, Lekhni in Gurgaon, have my day organized for me - and I work. Work is mostly about figuring out how to cope with the increased business coming our way - staffing, training, streamlining, improving process and so on.
In contrast, my colleagues in other countries are worrying about how to reduce cost, how to protect their staffs from being laid off and find productive work for them, how to do more with less.
At the end of the day, I call my driver Mukesh, who again pulls the car to the door, and we head back home. We arrive at BPII where all I have to do is haul myself out of the car and take the elevator up. Mukesh follows with my briefcase and now empty lunchbox.
Salyani makes me hot rotli and sabji, I watch my favorite soaps while eating dinner and go to sleep.
On weekends, Archana or one of her colleagues, will stop by mid-day and administer what they call an accupressure massage. Occasionally I will visit my cousins, and or take my nephews to the movies.
Such is the stuff that dreams are made of.
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