So after the minor derailment (was lost in thought, and those thoughts are penned down, in The Lost Ethos) – followed by me being diagnosed with RSI, and my doctor telling me to NOT type too much, Chennai Express is back on track. Apologies for any inconvenience.
The logistical nightmare continues, and yet again, I’ve been told to pack my bags and leave the GuestHouse. This time its not Fortune, but rather Hotel Sabri Classic. I almost feel like a hotel critic, on a mission to try out all the business hotels in and around Shollinganalur (again, I’m not sure whether the spelling is correct, and I’m too lazy to check). Not that I’m complaining. Atleast they gave me a place to dump my bags, while I attended office – if they had actually made me go, check in and come back, they’d have found me absconding.
Finally I had figured out what I was supposed to do, and the usual high-stress, no-fun IT job began. Should have known that when you sign up for IT Service, you sort of sign over your life to them – damn Terms and Conditions, there must be a clause where they claim my soul, else this would be illegal to say the least. I shall have to actually read them the next time.
After a long day of fixing some broken code and creating documents for Audit, effectively an association game – document A must be for Requirement Z, and things like that, I trudged back to my new home for 4 days – Hotel Sabri Classic. Try as hard as I may, I just had to associate the name to a certain set of qualities, a perception. And, that turned out to be right.
My workplace is waaay out of Chennai, and Hotel Sabri is yet another 8km or so out of there. Probably a local standalone hotel, done up in exactly the way you expect a normal hotel to be, the welcome was very warm. Though a few nuances that the better chains of hotels take care of were missing, and a a few things were lacking here and there, the moment I stepped into my room, I was pleasantly surprised. It was a bigger room than I had ever been in a hotel and very comfortable. There was also a copy of The Holy Bible on the table, yet another failed attempt by God The Lord Almighty to make me follow the higher path. It lay untouched.
I had a severe wrist pain, and I clicked a photograph, highlighted my sore area (I so missed my Galaxy Note’s stylus), and sent it to a certain Dr. Amit Nath Misra, who immediately diagnosed me with RSI and told me to stay away from typing. I wanted to share my experiences in Chennai, but then it would cause worsening of the situation, so I knew I had to refrain from typing a lot.
The morning otherwise was cheerful, and I skipped down the stairs for breakfast. Yet again, you understood why ITC, Oberoi and Taj were what they were. Despite demanding the same tariff, the hotel just couldn’t compare. It is a good hotel to have local dishes, but for a continental spread, it was woefully left wanting. Finally had been assigned some work, and by the time I I finished, I realized it was time to go back.
What I was greeted to outside the campus were long traffic jams, if I clicked long exposure shot, the humans would be zipping past, and the traffic would be stationery. The autowallas are out having a glass of lemonade, while waiting for the red light. And as soon as the light turns green you see a commotion like never before, a wild rush to their wards, oops, vehicles, and running and pulling them for a few meters, not bothering to turn them on, as they know they would have to stop it again. And then returning to finish their fresh lime soda. One good thing, in a traffic jam like this, you could leave ur car unattended, but it won’t be stolen :p
On Saturday, I shall move my hotel again, let’s see what Aloft is like. Chennai Express continues, albeit with an engine faliure (read RSI), and truckloads of work. *phew*