A few days ago, I was sitting with some friends, and we started talking about what gives the strongest "high". One said weed, another said opium, and someone else mentioned bhang. Some preferred alcohol. A few even said love or power were the real highs. When my turn came, I said, "Maybe all of those are addictive, but the real addiction is a 9-to-6 job".
Dear fellows, I’ve been addicted to this peculiar substance for over twenty-three years now and I can assure you, it’s a high that never wears off. Other intoxicants don’t have a fixed schedule. This one does. It kicks in on the first day of every month, when salaries are credited, and by the 10th, you’re already waiting for your next fix. And so, the months, the years, and eventually life, keeps slipping by.
My first boss, a true veteran once said, "Whether you earn 15, 000 or 1. 5 million, a job is still a job". He also had some unprintable quotes about corporate life that, believe me, were shockingly accurate.
On my very first day, a charming HR lady sweetly explained the leave policy: "You get 12 Sick leaves, 12 Casual leaves, 12 Annual leaves, and if you become a father 3 Paternity leaves".
The inner mathematician in me instantly did the math. Throw in weekends, public holidays, and the ones HR mentioned and voilà! That’s almost two months off every year… with full salary! But alas, in the private sector, taking a leave is like trying to extract nectar from a cactus.
Every time I’ve asked a team leader for a day off, their expression makes it seem like I’ve asked for their kidney. Twenty three years on, bosses still react the same way:
"If you go on leave, who’ll do your work?" But come annual review time, the tone changes: "What do you even do here the whole year?"
Taking a break ends up feeling like an act of betrayal.
Many of my friends run their own businesses. They look at my two weekly offs with envy, assuming I just waltz into my boss’s office and announce, "I won’t be in tomorrow".
What they don’t see is the back-and-forth drama, justification emails, and guilt trips involved in just getting one day off. You’ve probably figured that out already.
Twenty-three years in the corporate sea have turned me from a tiny guppy into a seasoned crocodile. Things that once kept me awake now just make me chuckle.
Here’s one universal truth of corporate life:
Respect is fleeting. Disrespect is forever.
Your major accomplishments will be forgotten in days, but your tiniest mistake will be brought up again and again, especially in meetings that matter. It's like living with a corporate version of a mother-in-law, one that never forgets that one time you kneaded the dough wrong in January.
Corporate life runs on email. Everything, from tea bag inventory to bonus announcements comes via email. It can save your skin or get you stuck in a bureaucratic mess so bad you start praying in Latin.
You’re the Best… Until You Leave
Despite the regular grind, HR only showers you with compliments on two occasions:
When you're applying for leave.
When you resign.
Why? Because replacing a resource at the same salary is a pain — and bosses certainly don’t want to handle your tasks themselves.
And Yet, Here We Stay
For all its chaos, the corporate world remains a livelihood for many. Most of the today’s youth still dream of joining it, and veterans like me the "aged rice grains" of the industry can’t seem to leave.
Why? Because this life, for better or worse, is our comfort zone. We wait for payday like clockwork. We pay taxes before we even see our salary. And then we pay tax again when we withdraw it. We pay tax on everything we buy from a needle to a car, and God forbid you forget to file your return after paying all that tax you’ll still get penalized.
We think we’ll get rich by saving. We join office chit funds and saving schemes… and eventually end up spending it all on healthcare, right before heading into the great beyond.
As Karl Marx said:
"The middle class is the biggest hurdle to revolution, with its feet stuck in the mud and eyes on the stars".
So yes it is a drug.
The most dangerous kind. One dose every month. And a lifetime of dependence.
