All work and No pay makes Jack a dull boy.- Anonymous
The overwhelming reason candidates decide to explore new options is to get a better salary. At the same time most candidates are not sure - as to how to approach this tricky topic. Some are upfront about it and risk loosing their candidature. And there are some who are too nervous to even discuss this topic.
![[CalvinandHobbes.gif]](http://madouthere.files.wordpress.com/2013/05/ffec6-calvinandhobbes.gif?w=576&h=403)
Let’s face it. We all think about it. At times we think of little else — even if only rarely and in certain settings do we feel free to admit it. The conversation often begins furtively, the question murmured as if slightly shameful or out of place. How can I get more of it at work?
Meaning, that is.
Meaning at work, in work, from work. Despite work even. Meaningful work. However you put it, we crave meaning more than ever.
It may be because we are freer. If we’re fed up of soulless work we are told to take charge of our career, find our vision and carve our own path. But what if we can’t see clearly? What if a path that looks promising actually leads nowhere?
It may be because we are too focused or not focused enough. We feel stuck on a narrow path and we wonder what lies beyond it. Or we hop between jobs without commitment or a clear direction.
It may be because we are more exposed. Courses, networking events and social media may not open so many doors but they provide plenty of windows — into a myriad of new neighbors’ lawns whose grass often looks greener. Take Facebook. Everyone has fulfilling lives there. Their colleagues are helpful and fun, their partners attractive and caring, their travels exotic and food delicious. Their glasses are full. Children always smile and never have tantrums.
Someone always seems to be pulling it off. Whatever ‘it’ is. So why aren’t we?
The more we reach for meaning, the more elusive it becomes. Interrogating its nature, what it may look and feel like, makes it more mysterious. Thinking about meaning only deepens our longing.
When you look at it that way, meaning is like love.
Yearning for either turns some into poets and drives the rest of us on a quest to experience it.
But when it comes to love, most grown-ups realize what that quest will take.
We long ago gave up the fantasy that a Prince or Princess Charming will show up one day to sweep us off our feet. We know that finding love takes more than hopeful waiting. It takes building a relationship with somebody to share love with.
Love, the sentiment, is a consequence of having found our somebody. It begins when our desire for love morphs into desire for a person . In fact, when we are in love we may not even think much about our desire for love. We’re too busy doing what lovers do — holding hands, writing letters, promising, being consumed and scared and comforted, raising children, fighting, making up, making out, having a laugh.
When it comes to meaning, however, many grown-ups still believe in a version of the handsome prince and perky princess.
We call them “dream job” or “fulfilling life” and imagine them to be out there — at the other end of the marshes of torment, waiting for us to wade through a forest of doubts. Ready to understand us perfectly and delight us ever after.
That very belief keeps us confused and stuck.
Meaning, like love, is a consequence. Not a destination. It is the sentiment we experience, usually in passing, when we’re engaged with activities, people, or purposes that keep us busy and make us feel alive. It is not the big warm light at the end of the tunnel. It is the tiny LED that signals “life is ON.”
If meaning is what we seek, then, the best we can do is to find something so engaging that we stop thinking of meaning. How? The same way most of us go about finding our somebody when we are looking for love.
Yes, fantasizing, getting advice, and taking to the Internet are all well and good. But sooner or later you have to play the awkward, exciting, unpredictable game.
Dating.
In her landmark study of career transitions, Herminia Ibarra echoes the psychoanalyst Adam Phillips’ view that flirtation — a form of experimentation suspended between imagination and commitment — is the royal road to explore potential interests and discover who we are, not only when it comes to romance.
On a first date you rarely ask yourself, “Is he or she the one?” Ok, maybe you do, and you might be able to tell if someone isn’t. But you are more likely to wonder, “Is this going any further?” or more precisely, whether and how you would like it to. The latter question is far more useful, for three reasons.
It is (more) answerable. It is impossible to know in advance if a job you are considering will be meaningful. You can tell if it is attractive, which does not hurt — but this offers little real guidance. It is possible, however, to sense from a project, an internship or even just a meal with potential colleagues if that attractive job may be worth pursuing further.
It reveals what you want (and what you are prepared to give). Considering a concrete option, as opposed to a fantasy, puts your expectations to the test of reality. If you went further, what might you have to invest, rearrange, give up? What would you want and fear? How much work are you prepared to put in to make it work?
It exposes you (or makes you withdraw). It is impossible to love and learn without making ourselves vulnerable. To rejection, hurt, disillusionment or exploitation. To surprise, affection, understanding and transformation. Dating won’t help you assess those risks and opportunities accurately, let alone prevent them, but it gives you a chance to entertain them and maybe take the plunge.
Any job, like any relationship, brings out some parts of yourself and demands that you put others aside. At best, they free you to express more of who you want to be. At worst, they make you feel unsafe. When flirting with a job, you may feel freed up or want to shut down. That is a sign of how the job may change you.
There are as many kinds of meaning as there are kinds of love. Claiming and liberating us at the same time, both elicit the full range of feelings that come with being alive. Our “meaning lives” are as complex and messy as our “love lives.” Both can be frustrating at times and gratifying at others. In fact, it is the possibility of experiencing a broad range of feelings, in relation to someone or something that matters, that makes them meaningful.
A meaningful job has boring moments, scary moments, angry moments. It is not a flat line of unvarying personal fulfillment. Nothing is great if it is monotone. There is no job of your life out there, waiting to be found
This article was up as a good read in one of the sites I follow. FOr each one of you who thinks that photography is a waste of time and money and all those who think that spending an amount for photography for any occasion is totally unwanted, take a look at this article.
“My parents have exactly 18 professional images from their wedding. Eighteen. I know them inside and out. I could describe each image to you so well that a sketch artist would be able to recreate them.
How do I know them so well? Because I’ve looked at them hundreds of times. I’ve looked at them hundreds of times because they were on display, in an album. An album that was made by a professional, filled with prints made through a professional lab and bound in a book available only to professionals. From the time I was a little girl I was fascinated by it — seeing my parents so young, my grandparents and aunts and uncles surrounding them. It was a simple leather book, with the images slipped in and preserved behind plastic but it held up surprisingly well over time. Even though I looked at it more times than I could count. Even though this May those images will turn 42 years old.
But what about couples that marry today? What if they decide to forgo an album? What if they decide it’s not worth the cost? How many images do you really think they’ll put into frames? Five? Ten? Maybe that first year married, they’ll have a bunch. But then, kids comes along. Baby pictures replace wedding pictures in those frames. They move, things change. In 40 years, how many pictures do you think their children will know by heart? How many pictures will they have even seen?
Today, a lot of couples think just getting the disc of images is good enough. Here’s the problem with that thinking: it’s not true. Not by a long shot.
Don’t get me wrong, I think that getting the files from your day is great. Today’s couples probably get up to 1,000 images from their wedding, WAY more images than my parents did. After all, what happened to all those other images from my parents’ wedding day? They probably sat, negatives in a box, at their photographer’s studio never again to see the light of day. So I think it’s wonderful that couples get ALL their photos. But what worries me is that even with that option, it won’t mean that today’s couples will necessarily be better off. My fear is that today’s couples will actually end up with LESS than what my parent’s got in 1971.
Think about it, will the computers of 2055 even have DVD drives? USB ports? Will they even have hard drives at all? If the past is any indication, the answer is no. You know what the big technological advancement was when my parents got married? Eight-track players. What if their images were stored on the equivalent of that? How in the world would I see those images today?
But you know what never becomes obsolete? What never goes out of style? Photographs. And not just any photographs. Not photos printed at a drugstore. Professional photographs, printed by a professional lab. Those are the photos you find in an attic. It could be a 100-year-old photo, but it still looks good. Because back then, the paper photographs were printed on was high quality and developing them was an art form. There were no machines that spit out pictures onto cheap paper with inexpensive ink. I actually have to stop myself from intervening when I see people at those automated machines in a drugstore. Whatever they’re charging, it’s too much. Because those prints aren’t worth the paper they’re printed on. They will fade. They will curl. They will not stand the test of time. Not even close.
Your memories are worth more than that. And your wedding images? They are worth TONS more than that. These aren’t snapshots from a vacation. They aren’t pictures from your iPhone. You cared enough about these moments to hire a professional to photograph them. Follow that through by having a professional print them. Have that professional print the pictures you put into frames and have them design you a high-quality wedding album that you will cherish for decades.
If you purchase an album through your photographer, you can see a sample in person. You can touch and feel it and make sure it is worth every penny.
I know that albums are expensive. That’s for good reason. They are custom-designed books, usually hand-stitched and hand assembled and made just for you.
But of all the things you spend money on for your wedding, your wedding photographs are the ONLY thing that will increase in value over time. As the years pass, you’ll be more and more glad that you have them. Especially, if you can experience looking through them by flipping through a gorgeous custom-designed album instead of sitting in front of your computer and clicking “next” with your mouse.
So, figure out a way to make it happen. Figure out a way to afford that album. Forgo a centerpiece. Cut back on your guest list. Opt out of the vintage car you’ll drive in for all of 20 minutes.
Don’t just do it for you. Do it for your children. Do it for your grandchildren. Because when they root around in your attic in 2075, they will have no idea what do with a USB key anymore than they would with a laser disc player.”
I know I’ll spend on photos on every notable occasion in my life. I have always done that and I will continue to do so. WOuld you keep memories alive for your generations to come?
Last weekend I was on a short getaway and I realised that my land truly is a beautiful place. Not just because of the landscape marvel and stuff, but also because of a heritage that is so overwhelming. Here’s the way I would love people(tourists and Non Keralites) to talk about or think of Kerala as.
Kerala, God’s Own Country! Here, you can sip coconut juice (plucked by wiry-legged, bronze-chested Kuttappans and Kochu Thommas)or dig into a plate of karimeen pollichathu on the wind-swept deck of a houseboat in Kumarakom. Or you can go on a forest safari to Thekkady or Gavi. If you don’t get a fresh Malayali tiger sighting, we guarantee you a fresh Malayali tiger dropping sighting or atleast a stone carved version of tiger, buffalo, elephant etc!!The beaches of Cherai, Marari, Kovalam and Varkala. The misty mountains of Munnar, Kuttikanam or Wayanad. The enchanting waterfalls of Athirapally. The lesser known Andhakaranaazhi, Kodanad, Silent Valley, Parambikulam national park, nelliampathy, kuruva dweep, agasthyamalai etc. The heritage of erstwhile Travancore and Malabar. The foreign influence and remains of Dutch-French-Portuguese and British Ancestry at Fort Cochin. The fingerlicking kadumanga achaar or succulent mutton chaaps and beef varatharachathu. The flavour packed biriyanis and the secret recipes of the syrian christians and malabar mappilahs. All this and so much more!
However, we also offer you many other sightings 
Our YWCA/Rotary women in their kota saris and their weekly games of rummy.
Our Marthoma achens on their Bajaj scooters with their cassocks billowing behind them like capes.
Our nasrani achayens with their scotch whiskey and their waxy moustaches.
Our gelf returnees with suitcases full of foreign scents.
Our men are hairy and so are our women. We believe in equality, a what’s-yours-is-mine policy, including your wife’s Tata Estate, rubber estate and the three gold teeth in her mouth.
To see our men in form, attend a Malayali wedding. When they’re sober, they’ll discuss the stock market, insurgency in Pakistan and global oil prices. Two Johnny Walkers down, they’ll hitch up their lungis/mundus(Jockey Bermudas peeking from beneath) and break into inebriated renditions of ‘Alliambal Kadavil.’ One can learn patience just watching the men standing in long queues in front of BEVCO shops or learn the art of walking swiftly in a lungi/mundu and jumping onto a moving bus with the same ease and fervor.
To see our women in form, attend a Syrian Christian church service on Sunday and watch the Mariammas, Eliyammas and Shoshammas in the front pew belch out verse after verse of Suriyani hymns – lusty, off-key and hitting notes that will make even the Mar Baselios Bavas turn in their graves. Learn the art of multi tasking by just watching the old muthachis and ammachis sing,cook,play with the kids, watch TV and pray all at the same time. Learn the art of sales by watching the lungi clad chechis on Lunars, selling fish, bargaining and applying the Buffets and Kotlers theories in full swing.
And what about our superstars? Can your Tom Croose or Brad Peet vanquish a dozen gun-toting villains with a single, gold-ringed knuckle punch like Mohanlal or spew English like Suresh Gopi (‘Just remember that’) or own a courtroom like Mammooty (‘That’s all, Your Honor’)?
But all said and done, we are a simble, humble people with simble, humble pleasures: watching Idea Star Singer on Asianet or the mallu version of saas-bahu soaps like “Kumkumapoovu”, scouting the obituary section of Malayala Manorama, getting our dentures stuck in plates of chakkavaratty, ogling next door mallu aunty’s large sized “bumper” or her “charakku” daughters, finding bridegrooms for our daughters (must be minimum an ingineer), going for second show and hooting when the power fails.
And why are we the way we are? Simblee. Coz we are Malayee. We are like this wonlee.
Welcome to Kerala. Nice to meet you!
He’s the feller to please, never mind all the rest,
For he’s with you clear up to the end,
And you’ve passed your most dangerous, difficult test
If the guy in the glass is your friend.
You may be like Jack Horner and “chisel” a plum,
And think you’re a wonderful guy,
But the man in the glass says you’re only a bum
If you can’t look him straight in the eye.
You can fool the whole world down the pathway of years,
And get pats on the back as you pass,
But your final reward will be heartaches and tears
If you’ve cheated the guy in the glass.
And mad asks…
Have you ever cheated the one in the glass ?? Be it for one day , one hour, or even for just a moment?? When we fool someone to believe we are someone else, when we try to portray ourselves as someone we are not, are we actually fooling the others or just fooling ourselves in the process and after all that is it really worth it??!!
On April 13.2012, Shah Rukh Khan was detained at an Airport in New York for over two hours. He was there at New York to give a speech at Yale. The conversation given below is purely fictional, though it is related to living people. Hence resemblance to people mentioned here are but natural. Enjoy!
“Name?” “SRK” “Passport?” Passenger hands the immigration officer his passport. Officer opens the cover page, reacts with alarm.Passenger pulls out a piece of paper, hands it to the officer.
From: Mukesh
To: SRK
Date: April 2, 2012
Subject: FW: Uncle 2 Yale?
Dear SRK,
Please see the email below. Hope you can make it. You can take my plane. My people advise to land at a small airport. We don’t want a repeat of what happened to you last time at Newark!
Best,
Mukesh
—-Begin forwarded message—-
From: Isha
To: Daddy
Date: April 1, 2012
Subject: Uncle 2 Yale?
Dear Daddy,
Wud b gr8 if uncle can come here to give a talk. Can you ask him? Plz?
Officer looks up at the passenger, and says with growing exasperation.
“First of all, Mr Khan, this is an email, not a letter. Second, it doesn’t even have your real name on it. Third, it’s from your niece, not from an official at Yale.”
“She is most certainly an official at Yale – president of the highly influential South Asian Society. But she’s not my niece, I’m just her uncle and my wife is her aunty.”
“What do you do for a living, Mr Khan?”
“I’m an actor. And a game show host. And I own a cricket team – like your baseball teams.”
“Cricket? Those guys should wear gloves – it would be a lot easier to catch the ball.”
“I shall take that fine suggestion up with the IPL rules committee. But cricket is just an investment for me. I’m really an actor.”
“I only ever seen one Indian movie and you weren’t in it.”
“Let me guess, Slumdog Millionaire?” “Yeah. Good flick.”
“That’s one of the game shows I hosted!”
“Really? Then why should I let you into my country? The way you treated that poor kid was terrible.”
“No, you don’t understand – that was just the movie! I was the host in real life.”
Officer opens the passenger’s passport again and types something into his computer. The screen begins flashing. He looks up at the passenger and grasps the handle of his sidearm.
“Come with me, Mr Khan.”
The scene shifts to a large waiting room. At one end of the room the passenger is seated alone at a row of plastic chairs. At the other end the immigration officer confers in hushed tones with his supervisor.
“Hey boss, I got this Iranian guy here with an Indian passport, claiming to be a movie star. He’s a quadruple hit on the terrorist watch database!”
“Why the hell is he at our little airport?”
“He flew here in a private jet, boss. From India, or so he says. Allegedly on his way to give a lecture at Yale – showed me some BS email invite from his niece!”
“He ain’t going nowhere on my watch. Did you check his shoes?”
Phone rings. He answers.
Hello..yes, good afternoon, sir! [Pause] Right away, we’ll take care of it. [Pause] OK, just doing our jobs, sir. Goodbye, sir.”
“That was the big man in Washington. Apparently your Iranian is legit. The president of Yale called homeland security to vouch for him.”
“OK, boss. I’ll let him through right away. But there’s still something I don’t like about that guy.”
Read the full article on: Economic Times
