Sunday, September 16, 2012


India needs a boom in manufacturing to further strengthen its economy.But ask me what that really means.It means 6 days of work. It means no holiday on Easter,Eid or Holi.Yes you will have to explain your parents back home that there are no official holidays apart from the National ones bestowed to you.

  A friend of mine once drew parallels an interesting parallel at her site of Steel mill commissioning. With so many workers in helmets and PPE(personal protection equipments) working 24 hours (in shifts), and with Germans speaking on their walkie talkies guiding and consulting on technology  the entire scene actually looks like that of World War 2. Most of  us working in the manufacturing sector have no idea about  the 5 day a week  and 8 hours a day work model.After having had to go to office even on a Sunday today,here I pour out what a typically lucky Sunday means to us .Us here refers to the brotherhood (with an iota of sisters joining the fray) working at the shopfloor.
 While our friends are shaking a leg at the disco and tweeting “Thank God It is a Friday” We don’t even know what that means.We don’t know why Allen Solly launched that “Friday Dressing” collection. We keep counting our days at work dreaming only about what to do on a Sunday.
    So every Saturday will be a typical day when you would like to leave the plant early. And pronto! Just as you would be  online booking your tickets for the night movie show,or deciding which brand of "daaru" to buy for the night out,you will come to know of a breakdown in the shopfloor.That is how a weekend starts.Heavy hearted you would return home back at 9pm,barely managing to take your family or friends out for dinner.In case you are lucky you will find a table.In most of the cases all the hotels are infested with hungry folks who unlike you have managed to get a table because they didn’t have to face a breakdown in the line. That Saturday night dinner seems to be an ambrosia.You go back home and promise not to wake up early the next day until you are woken up by your housemaid or some vendor selling rugs or broomsticks.

You will curse them! By the time you realise you need a haircut or visit the parlour/saloon it is already 11 am on Sunday. The spirit starts leaving your soul when you decide to take a bath but realise that there  is  a whole lot of  laundry to do. By the time you have your brunch you realise you just have  some 8 hours left to your weekend and your afternoon nap beckons you. After you break your afternoon siesta you decide to stock up food for the rest of the weekend.You head to the market grab knick knacks, catch a movie ,shop , club around a little and bump into your colleagues who are doing pretty much the same.The Sunday dinner unlike the Saturday dinner is more sombre and more hopeless.You don’t enjoy it that much because you see your watch and feel there is not much time left for the Monday morning’s blue sun to rise. The evenings and the nights are a sweet torture .You hate to tell yourself that the day is about to end.You blurt that for the umpteenth time  “Gosh! I didn’t even come to know how the Sunday passed away” You are reminded of the drudgery of existence.You hate to goto bed and stay up watching the TV or facebooking.On facebook you see pictures of your friends picnicking and camping around all the places in globe and the Album says “ Weekend Getaway” . With a heavy heart you go off to bed and the timer is on; ticking for the next Saturday.

P.S. Salute to the blue collar workers who play such an important role in nation building enduring physical and emotional hardships.


Anonymous said...

v true and very well expressed

funky-philosopher said...

most heartfelt salute to the blue collar workers engaged in nation building (and a special one to the iota of sisters who have joined the fray)