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The Workaholic’s Guide to Romance


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So you are spending twelve to eighteen hours day at work? And trudging home after a long week, it is difficult for you to remember your own surname, leave alone the fact that it is your girlfriend’s birthday/the fourth month anniversary since you met each other/Valentine’s Day or similar romantic occasion…

Entry No. 64, 4.00 pm: Decided that the interval between finishing my weekly report and being called in for my next meeting with my boss was just the right moment to call S and tell her how much I love her. The tension I felt at what the boss would have to say to me at the meeting gave my voice just the right amount of urgency. “I love you…” I breathed and she laughed and said, “How do you manage to say that as if your life is slowly being taken away from you?” “Because I feel that way!” I was quick to reply. “Without you I am a lifeless rag…” She sounded pleased when I had to go.

Entry No. 71, 7.30 pm: Walked in to the theater a whole half hour late for the evening show. S was already in her seat. I was wondering how she would respond to the news that I was going to return to work after the movie. Luckily, I had all my ammunition on me – a generous serving of buttered popcorn bought from the theater lobby, a red rose I had removed from the desk of the receptionist before I left office, and two tickets for a rock concert featuring her favourite band the next week. She murmured some protests about my missing dinner, and ‘proper food’ very often, but allowed me to drop her home directly after the movie.

Entry No. 83, Sunday, 2.30 pm: Was in the pool with S and the gang when my phone rang. It was Shikha, with the news that all the codes for the sales report module would have to be re-written as the US client had thrown it back at us complaining of bugs. ‘Start now’, she said, with an edge in her voice, and I could see that boss had been giving her a hard time about her team. S came and stood at my shoulder while I talked, with water dripping down her indignantly heaving bosom… “Its my sister from Pune,” I mouthed to S, and cut Shikha off quickly. One more lap in the pool had cleared my head sufficiently to dash right out of the picnic with friends. I suggested all the girls visiting a ‘mehndi’ artist at a hotel on the way back, and parked a happy S with her girlfriends, immobile for another two hours getting both hands and feet done while I rushed back to office…

Entry No. 92, 8.00 pm: The boss was grilling me for the nth time and I was in a state of numb fatigue. The samosa I had eaten at five o clock seemed to have disappeared completely. Suddenly S called and said, “Listen, you have hardly had any time to have a real conversation with me in the last three months. How can we continue to love each other if we can’t even talk? You just have to talk to me soon, or we will call this whole thing off.” What could I do? I looked at the irate face of my boss through the glass of his cabin door. I imagined S. Then I poked my head in to the cabin and said “I’m on my way boss. Got an urgent call”. Then I left office in ten seconds flat. Some times cannot be staved away with popcorn…

Have these excerpts done anything to shore up your own flagging spirit of romance? We certainly hope so!

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