Sunday, June 27, 2010

An ode to my friend

The title to this post refers to a poem a friend at work wrote about me a few years back. It was the second time someone wrote me a poem (the first was when I was in Kindergarten, which I'll blog about some other day) and I was really happy. In excitement to share it with the rest of my team (since it has references to work specific details that only colleagues can appreciate), instead of sending it to my team's alias (20 subscribers) I accidentally forwarded it to a global mailing list (~1000 subscribers). Less than a year old in the company then, I realized the extent of my spam only when a colleague from Dublin pinged me, with emoticons flooding the chat transcript.

Things didn't turn out to be as bad as I thought it would. In fact, no one got angry/irritated, but accepted my follow-up email profusely apologizing for the spam, instantly. I also got hundreds of responses from across the globe (maximum responses any of my emails have ever elicited), all sent in laughter and good spirit.

The person who wrote this has written so many other poems (way more hilarious!) that have ticked many a bored bone at work. Although we lost in touch (like I always seem to do) once she quit her job, she's one of those people I can start a conversation with instantly, even if we've had years of silence between us; because our friendship goes way beyond social networking norms.

Soum, this post is a cyber nudge I'm sending your way, asking you to publish those funny poems/short rhymes that used to get Priya, Sana, Amu and me ROFL.

Here's the poem that Soum wrote about me, in under 5 mins:

A limp she continues to work with and drinks when time permits
If she continues working like this, she will have the aura of a hermit
She lives in office and visits home occasionally
Guess ATM and the Help Center is what she wants to do best sensationally
Whiskey woman and workaholic of mine you remain an inspiration
One more week I'm giving you to get over this concept of overtime--and its fascination

Who reads this stuff, anyway?