If you asked me whether I am looking around for a job-change, my immediate (honest) answer would be ‘No’. If you ask me why/ why not, my answer would vary slightly depending on who you are.

If you are a friend, I’ll probably say, “What man, who’ll give me a job?” (The false modesty disguising my basic reticence to move and the high comfort factor in my current job). If you’re a batch-mate who has switched professions and doing well (selling credit cards or loans) somewhere or worse an IIM-graduate speaking condescendingly, I would probably say, “For what? Advertising pays peanuts everywhere. What’s the point of being the same monkey and getting transferred to a new zoo just to eat the same damn peanuts?” (Yeah, sometimes grapes are sour.) If you’re my parents I would say, “Move? But it’s only been three years. And unlike the other people in my generation, I believe in sticking it out in the same job. It shows my perseverance, loyalty, etc, etc” (Of course, they’d never believe the shit, but they’d like to hear it all the same.) If you’re a placement consultant, I would tell you, “I am very happy with my current job. I love my job. Good organisation, good bosses, etc, etc…...” (I strategically leave the sentence hanging. I have perfected the art of doing so. It means, the going is great but do call me if you want to make me an offer I can’t refuse. And no bleeding horse heads under my blanket, thank you.)

Having given all the different versions of the same answer I would give to different people, I would like to confess that I still go through all the job openings in our Alumni HR group mails. No, no. I’m really not looking around for a change in job. I am just window-shopping. I don’t have to buy anything. Come on, let’s be practical. In today’s day and age you just have to be aware about everything. Or you could end up missing a super-duper sale.

But all said and done, I do have my principles. I never go for interviews. I never even fix them up. No, that would be stretching the window-shopping bit too far. Besides, it would be like cheating on your partner. It’s a rule. You never go out for coffee or a ‘harmless’ drink. Nothing is harmless. You need to know where to draw the line. You can look. Looking is allowed. But no getting close. And definitely no touching. Unless of course you have decided to be unfaithful. Now that’s a completely different ball game. But we shall keep if for another day. I have been typing for a while, and I get rather tired of typing on my key-board. I need a new one as this one is fairly old. I am not complaining, of course. Why would I do that? I love my job. Good organisation, good bosses, etc, etc….. (Wink, wink).

Do you believe that you have a ‘soul mate’? One person somewhere in this world who has been made just for you? The yin to your yang or the yang to your yin. Do you pine for that one perfect person? Do you think that your present relationship is a compromise? Do you live on the eternal hope that the next person you meet might be ‘the one’? Or do you long to get back with ‘the love of your life’ and back into the relationship that broke up six years ago? Did you meet your soul mate on a train, or perhaps on a bus, and saw him/her walk away, knowing that you may never meet anyone more perfect for you?

If you are, then brace yourself for the biggest shock of your life. Prepare to hear the truth.

The truth is that the concept of ‘soul mate’ is one of the biggest hoaxes of all times. A deceit so cruel and destructive, for it constantly plays on the human mind and creates a constant craving for a state of being that does not exist.

The members of the society of those-who-know-it-all have in the past two decades uncovered several theories to the origin of ‘soul mate’.

One theory is that the concept of ‘soul mate’ was instigated in seventh century BC by members of the then ruling religion Savemen. The House of Savemen believed that the intrinsic polygamous nature of man would doom mankind. Sex was taboo and sex with more than one person a sin. They understood well the reverse psychology of humans and declaring it a sin would never work. And thus to save men, the concept of the ‘soul mate’ originated.

There is another popular theory. This theory refutes that Eve was the first woman to be created. Actually, God created several women, in fact thousands of women. They were created from the hair on Adam’s head, one woman from every strand of hair. (And thus, the tendency of men to go bald. But that is a separate discussion altogether and we shall not delve on it today.) Adam had the choice of any woman he wanted. Imagine one man and thousands of women to choose from. The only hitch was that once he became bald he looked rather queer and none of women wanted to be with him, with the exception Eve who was almost blind (and thus the origin of the phrase ‘love is blind’). Adam loved Eve dearly but his ego was bruised. That was when he decided to propagate the concept of ‘soul mate’ to all future generations.

There are several more theories including one about a group of Extra Terrestrial scientists who were experimenting on earth and psychologically created the idea of ‘soul mate’ in the human mind to test it as a population-control measure. The experiment was a disastrous failure and the Extra Terrestrial scientists soon abandoned Earth and returned to their galaxy far far away.

To read the complete paper ‘Soul mate = Sole Mate?’ The Theories of ‘soul mate’ published by The Society of those-who-know-it-all, email to service@ those-who-know-it-all.com

How I love the rain! It has been raining for the past two days in Bombay. The respite from the cruel Indian May summer, the smell of wet earth, the cool wind and the greenery. Even a city like Bombay which lacks trees (unlike a Delhi or a Calcutta) looks green and clean. Oh yes, I do love the first few days of rain. Before the slush gets to you, and the city starts looking and feeling dirty and before Bombay starts flooding.

I do love the rains, though it makes me rather nostalgic. It is the only time in the year when I wish I were younger, a school girl again. For one, I would have rainy-holidays. The heartless office administration people cut leave (and in the absence of leave actually deduct one’s salary) if you bunk office because of rain.

But what I hate most about being a grown-up during the rains is not being able to give in to the impulse of getting wet in the rain. Yes, I know. Even full-grown mature adults can enjoy getting wet in the rain. Unfortunately, it is not that simple.

Take the other day at office for instance. It was raining and it looked so inviting. I almost ran into the rain. But I stopped short of five steps. I started thinking. What would happen to the Rs. 4000 watch? (My Rs. 4000 watch is rather fancy and very expensive but not water-proof.) I could have taken off the watch of course but then realised that I would have to take off my expensive sandals as well. (I am not one to spend too much on shoes but it was one of those times when I really pampered myself). Screw the sandals I thought for one brief impulsive moment and stepped closer to the rain, just three steps away. And I stopped yet again. What would happen to my beloved mobile (you know the expensive mobile I justify by calling it an investment)? Couldn’t get that wet, could I now! I looked around for somebody who would hold on to my mobile while I danced in the rain. Ah, another colleague looking longingly at the rain. I handed the mobile to him. Then I realised I had a second mobile too (Don’t ask me why I am carrying two mobiles. It is rather complicated and very frustrating. Let it suffice by saying that I didn’t want the second one). Frustrated, standing three steps away from the rain, with little drops of water teasing my face, the realisation struck me. Even if I got rid of all my accessories I could still not get wet. I had two important meetings lined up. And though wet clothes might look sexy on Mandakini, it makes me look like a wet street dog.

So there it is. The tragedy of being a grown-up. Sigh! I do love the rain.

(WARNING: This love is usually very short-lived. It lasts for approximately 10 days. After that I can willingly write a post on why I hate the rainy season. And if I don’t get too busy with work again, I just might.)