Raw was never for me

Eating things uncooked is an absolute sign of disrespect to our forefathers who discovered the pleasures and uses of fire. A spot of raw on a dinner plate, in the form of a salad or sashimi or tartare or carapaccio or sushi does take a lot of gumption and is an acquired taste. Is it any surprise that a person who chows down a salad for a meal is asked whether s/he is on diet? Raw ensures that there is nowhere the taste of the vegetable or meat can hide. Of-course, in the case of salads, people do add a dash of dressing, but this is more akin to a bikini. The only way I imagine people so willingly do this to themselves is because the salad morphs into that magic mirror which shows a slimmer/prettier/handsomer version of their current selves.

But then I gave in

So you can imagine my trepidation when I opened the box containing the juicer. Reading the instructions made my heart beat to a tattoo that would have humbled the RPM of the juicers engine. The key, the manual stated, was to only use juicy vegetables and not pulpy or mushy ones like squash. With this information, I ventured to the market and got myself vegetables that I had seen on display in juice kiosks during my early morning sweaty jaunts.

I knew one vegetable was going to be as bad as the other and I also understood the pain I would be going though as I sipped the juice. Therefore I just hacked myself some carrots, bitter gourd, cucumber, bottle gourd and, with what was prescient vengeance, gleefuly put them through the grind. The juicer screamed in protest, was it the sound I would make with the first gulp of the vegetable juice? Then dribblets of juice began to appear, which turned into an outpouring of colour depending on the vegetable that was being ground. Simultaneously the machine began to violently spit out the ground veggies.

Less juice, more waste

It was quite a shock to see the quantum of ground veggies to the juice that was extracted from them. For a glass of awful tasting juice I had put an inordinate amount of veggies in. There was a clear imbalance between the input and the desired quantity of output. This health fetish journey that I was going to sip from was going to be wasteful. Not to mention, expensive too.

Something needed to be done, because I always had an opinion about those actors, models and health junkies who would proudly state that their breakfast consisted of ‘an omelette of 6 egg whites’. I always wondered where the yolks went. Did they go to make a custard for the evening? Or to brown a pie that was going to be baked? Or was it given to the servants? Maybe, it was just washed down the kitchen sink.

Given that I was not rich nor a wastrel, or a model or health junkie I had to do something with the ground vegetables. What could be done I wondered? And then it hit me that these could be made into vegetable cutlets or even into a vegetable dish. I tried my hand with a vegetable dish, I chopped some onions and browned them then added garlic and ginger to taste along with turmeric and garam masala. Finally, I added the ground vegetables and after some time a bit of hot water. I let the dish cook till the water had evaporated.

I hate to say this, but I think I have become a culinary alchemist. The dish was delicious, I swear. How can you go wrong with browned onions, ginger, garlic, and Indian spices? I have not grown any slimmer, my skin is not glowing and my hair continues to grey. Though I must tell you, my experiments with the juicer have continued. Somewhere it must be doing me good; check back with me when I am in my seventies. However, in the meantime I am going to add the byproducts of the juicer to idli and dosa batter. Who knows, I may begin using the juicer for fresh fruit juice and then start a line of preserves.

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Once you go to a government office or a public sector bank and see employees working hard whenever they get time from having endless tea, cigarette, lunch and snack breaks, you realise why so many of our brethren are dying to be labelled backward. If Amroha Nagar Palika received 19,000 applications and that too mostly from BA, BSc, MA, BTech and MBA candidates for 114 posts of safai karamchari [sweepers], you can imagine how scary it is out there.

Conquering the final frontier

It is a huge achievement when you finally get an interview call. So what if it’s after 5,874 rejections, heartbreaks, and ‘how-dare-they-think-I-am not good-enough’ rants! Now that you have reached the final frontier, you transform into a marketeer about to sell a ghastly tasting tea as a weight reducing miracle beverage. Not everyone is your Mom who thinks you are the best thing to have happened to mankind after Darjeeling tea.

I’m not suggesting everyone lies to get a job. But then even Yudhishthira ‘misspoke’ the truth to put an end to a bloody war that lasted 18 days. Thankfully, a typical interview lasts anything between 20 and 30 minutes within which you have to convince a bunch of grim looking strangers that you are the harbinger of their achhe din! This is the time when you get to unleash the power-hungry politician in you and make promises you have no intention of keeping. It does help if you package yourself well and try to look and sound intelligent. After all, not many take Rahul Gandhi seriously despite his impressive lineage.

What you really mean

Remember the time you wooed that hottie online? You told her you were a six feet something who loved surfing and stays up all night reading Plato and Plath with the book placed on his six pack abs. How quickly she fell for you! It helped that she lived
in Nicaragua and would never find that you’d never been near the ocean or the gym and you spend all night watching porn.

Likewise, an interview is an opportunity to be as creative as possible with the truth. If you’ve ever doubted your talents, here’s a concise list of your misspoken truths and what they actually mean.

When you say – I pride myself as a team player and have never had disagreements with my colleagues. I’m patient, understanding and kind to every single person at the office. Even those I don’t get along with.

What you really mean – I work well only with those who agree with me. The ones who have problems with my style of working are either jealous of me or too stupid to recognise my genius.

When you say – I just love what you’re wearing!

What you’re thinking – I hope my desperation to get this job is not showing!

When you say – I have always wanted to work for an organisation with mission, vision and values. It would be a dream-come-true to work here.

What you really mean – I don’t even know what these words mean! But they sound pompous and idealistic; besides, they make me sound good.

When you say – I resigned from my previous job because it did not help me reach my true potential. Of course, the management refused to accept my resignation but I was adamant. Everyone cried at my farewell party.

What you really mean – I just need a new job to hate. When I finally put in my papers, everyone at my office cried with relief. I just hope they all die and to make sure they do, I shall fast for 56 consecutive Mondays.

When you say – I always give my 100 per cent to the organisation.

What you really mean – The decimal that comes right after 1 is only visible to me. Hehehehe!

When you say – If there’s anything I do not like about me is my quest for perfectionism. I don’t mind the extra hours I have to put in to deliver the perfect package.

What you really mean – I have never met a deadline in my entire lifetime and my last boss had a nervous breakdown waiting for me to complete the job assigned to me. Last heard he had relocated to an ashram in Rishikesh where he scours utensils in the kitchen.

When you say – I have never shied from taking a tough call. If you don’t drive accountability, you’d have happy employees but a bankrupt company.

What you really mean – I once caught one of the team members spitting in my tea. Last Diwali someone put a live ‘phataka’ [firecracker] under my seat. It’s a miracle I did not die of heart failure.

When you say – I am an avid reader, traveller, wildlife photographer

What you really mean – Lol, are you kidding me? The only wildlife I have photographed is my wife! I am an avid reader of Facebook posts. And commuting two hours each way to reach my workplace is travel, right?

When you say – Five years from now I see myself as a valuable employee of your esteemed organisation mentoring juniors and helping them realise their true potential.

What you really mean – Five years from now I’ll have your job. When I sit on your side of the table, I’ll make sure nobody gets the job the way I did. By faking it.

Such glib talking will ensure that these fools will fall for you hook, line and sinker. You can now look forward to a match made in heaven. Of course, most relationships are made in China [they rarely last forever], especially the ones based on lies. But while you’re still a couple, you can keep pretending your boss dearest is the best thing to have happened to you in public, and bitch about her in private. Thankfully you won’t have to wait seven years to get the ‘seven year itch’.  At the first signs of restlessness, you can start sailing the ocean in search of a juicier new catch and prepare a new set of lies to net that big fish.

The post The lies we speak in a job interview [and what we actually mean] appeared first on Complete Wellbeing.