Life as a qualified lawyer

Mine was an arranged marriage. My marriage to the law firm, i am currently working at in Delhi, was arranged by the ubiquitous marriage broker- the placement cell of my college. When my marriage was decided upon after a telephonic interview and a subsequent 'muh-dikhai' by way of an internship, i was thrilled like any fresh law graduate at the prospects. My marriage was grand with accolades and best-wishes from the near and dear ones. Its now been 7 months since i got married. The honeymoon is definitely over and what assures me of its passage is the stark mundanity of daily life.

Lest my discerning readers dismiss my writings at the very outset as a bitchy commentary on my employer or rather my senior, i wish to assure them that i have no such intentions. Most certainly, my blog would have got more hits that way but i have refrained from the momentary rush of popularity for the more calming pursuit of self-discovery [please bear with me as i embark upon my grand ideations :)].

To empty by burdensome bag of mundanity and then to rummage through its contents is what i intend to do. These writings may appear disjoint and disconnected but i have treasured these moments as priceless memorabilia in my chest treasure-chest called memory. These disjoint, disconnected and random events are my life and i one day hope to open my treasure chest to look with contentment at these days and events and smile with satisfaction at a life spent. These writings may probably end up as a cry in the wilderness called the 'world wide web' but since my intentions are clear, it shall be most reassuring for me to even hear a single voice in the wilderness; so what, if it happens to be my own.

I now write from behind the impregnable walls of anonymity. The walls protect the clear outlines of my ideations and feelings from being blurred or contaminated by the invasion of my personal attributes. Since traits and attributes, by their very nature, are subjective and often perceived with a biased or judgmental eye, it is probably best that the things that i say are not burdened with my past and certain pre-conceived notions about me. Writing with impunity on a clean slate is certainly a thrilling experience which i now hope to indulge to my fill....

if you like it you may follow me on http://advocatingdreams.blogspot.com/

As most lawyers would agree especially females that law profession is predominantly successful for top notch lawyers kids or influential males.....the irony of faith as i say is that lawyers who protects everyones rights is himself/herself victim of so many unjust acts. As an associate in indian law firm though i am not generalising an associate has to bear tantrums and agree on face to unethical acts of the seniors. I was told by one of my colleagues that her senior threw papers on her (the reason she attended clients party without informing him...though the invitation was sent to all working on a matter). Inspite of policies in place the bias is obvious and ignored by the higher ups or those in control. The most annoying behaviour of seniors is when they make an associate work on infructuous things till wee hours and derive sadistic pleasure. An intern came to me to ask for some assignment. The intern was good looking and attractive and my senior just flipped....he called her in his chambers and gave her some work which was already been undertaken by few more interns. Despite not liking the fact that she is going to suffer from some form of harassment (verbal, visual.....) i could not help....Like these there are so many instances where i felt helpless. The purpose of this blog is to encourage people to come out in open and not rely on policies.....Even as junior most person in the firm it is better to maintain your dignity and fight for your own rights.....

Ever since I quit my job at Colby, Hewitt & Richards LLP last year to take up employment at the London office of the US firm Bradbury & Laithrose, it has become increasingly clear to me that things are looking up. The world economy is recovering and the bank manager is a friend again (even a skeptic such as he was moved to increase my credit card limit after a single glance at my new and vastly improved salary slip).

Naturally, as a consequence of my newfound riches, I have moved to a pretty nice part of South Kensington. It’s a small flat and the heating is pretty ineffective but if I crane my neck from my kitchen window I can see Laxmi Mittal's car park. Pretty good stuff that.

My move to Kensington, however, still leaves me a significant amount of travelling time (given that the B&L office is still in that hell-hole called the City of London). I find that the variety of people you meet on your way to work is pretty incredible. Some examples:

1. The man who is late for a breakfast meeting- he is the one staring at his watch trying to stop time while simultaneously increase the speed of the train;
2. The executive who regrets dating the college girl who knows how to party- he is the man with bloodshot eyes who doesn’t smell very nice; and
3. The nattily attired, demure and incredibly handsome Indian lawyer- he is Nandii Reywal.

But when I say the people you meet on your way to work, what I actually mean is the people you see on your way to work. That is because everyone on the tube is busy doing nothing. On second thoughts, they are actually doing something. Except that “something” is ignoring everyone around them, if you know what I mean?

To clarify that rather confusing formulation above (to tell you the truth I rather enjoyed it- it will make sense if you read it slowly), the whole tube experience is a pretty impersonal one. Nobody smiles at you or attempts to strike up a conversation. Most people are either listening to bad British pop music on their I-Pods or reading newspapers in a concerted effort to pretend that the person next to them doesn’t exist. I once saw a man who was snoring soundly with a newspaper held up firmly in front of his face. Pretty impressive, I thought to myself.

There are also other peculiar habits that I have noticed such as crowding next to the tube door. Anyone who has ever travelled in a Bombay local knows that the surest way of getting an umbrella/knee in your nether regions is to crowd next to the door when there is space available inside the compartment. Quite evidently, Slumdog Millionaire didn’t adequately educate the British tube traveller.  

So while you are quietly contemplating the anthropological value of studying tube travellers in London (especially the pretty females ones), most times you will hear a robotic voice announcing that the train you are on will terminate at the next stop or will be waiting here for approximately 30 minutes or that your destination station is no longer accepting incoming trains. As luck would have it, often this is when you look around and spot one of your Indian friends on the same train- you both then bitch happily in your native tongue about the wonders of the most expensive transport system in the world and promise to quit this country and go back home in ‘another couple of years’, i.e., once you have made enough money.

The train eventually reaches your destination and a stream of people bursts through the doors. You look around and everyone walking is fast towards the exits- age no bar, sex no bar. It is often said that you can identify a Londoner by his/her quick gait. What is a ‘Londoner’? Is it even a real word? Am I not a ‘Londoner’ if I don’t walk fast? 

Anyhow, once the crowd has passed another great London tube mystery will reveal itself- the mystery of the single glove. Every successful tube journey must have this. There are just millions and millions of single gloves lying all around London tube stations. I am sure these gloves were manufactured specially to decorate the Underground. These gloves have no pairs and are of absolutely no value to anyone. Who would want mismatched gloves? I suppose that at some level it keeps people honest.

Once you get past the damn escalators, which are machines from hell designed to shave off the front of your pointy formal shoes, you are just a few steps away from the exits. This is where the final surprise lies- you will see Londoners continuing to be deeply engrossed in their novels, newspapers, magazines, Kindles, Galaxy Tabs or I-Pads even when their morning joy ride is over and they are walking on busy roads outside the tube station. Personally, I find reading and walking a pretty inefficient combination, since I would have to keep re-starting each sentence to make sure I didn’t smash into oncoming traffic. Imagine having to do the fast Londoner walk along with that- its all a bit much for me.

Today, at the end of a journey substantially similar to that described above, I stepped outside the tube station and it began to rain. 

"Great!", I thought to myself and began planning this blog post in my mind.