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This benevolent matriarch, let’s call her 'the Puppet Mistress,' was an expert at dangling dreams in front of these pros. She led this ragtag team of would-be partners in a dance of hope, always hinting at the tantalizing vision of the promised land: partnership at the firm they started their careers with. A designation to brag about and signal their arrival on the scene. These desperate dreamers were none other than the generously titled Associate Partners and Managing Associates of that hope-dystopia we loved coming to every day.
As the greenest sprout in this forest of disillusionment, I struck up unlikely friendships with a few of these wily old foxes. Our bi-weekly therapy sessions were held at the pride of Lower Parel, 'Ambiance Restaurant Ani Bar'. A place where Blender’s Pride with chakli (murukku) and schezwan chutney flowed freely, where frustrations were voiced loudly, and where promises of greener pastures seemed just a drink away. I sat there, nodding like a bobblehead, absorbing tales of woe and promises never kept.
Shortly after completing my two years at the firm, I started eyeing the exit. Then came the fateful Goa off-site. Between sips of heavily watered-down whiskey and the sound of crashing waves, the Puppet Mistress happily announced a merger with another firm. To say it was a bigger, badder shark in the legal ocean of mid-tier firms would be an understatement. Any illusion of our firm's autonomy was about to be swallowed whole. The only person who seemed to have secured a golden parachute out of this crash landing was our beloved Puppet Mistress.
Three months after this revelation, I had moved out of this firm, but not without pocketing a few friendships. Over time, these connections faded, with only a line on my CV reminiscent of that darkly comic chapter. Word on the street is that the Puppet Mistress took an extended sabbatical and handed her clients (and perhaps her puppet strings) to the new alpha shark. As for my old comrades, they drifted to other firms, which, for all I know, had their own puppet shows and pie-dangling matriarchs/patriarchs. The circle of life, I suppose.
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