CXXV. Air Out That Dirty Laundry -     *Picture: Residing in a world with dryer and washer abilities myself, the act of airing out laundry on a clothing line was a shock. The old-world charm compelled me to take a photo.  
 The lack of humanity, empathy for the other person without regards to race or faith, is increasingly prevalent in today’s day and age. 
 With the recent “rape culture”, bursting out the seams of India in particular: burgeoning across the frontier of the northwest, the tropics of the east, the coast along Arabian Sea, and the heart of the capital itself, the lack of respect for and among humans is nauseating to say the very least. 
 I was watching some old Hindi films songs shot in European countries the other day. I realize that whatever I was watching occurred on the sets of a movie. Regardless of this fact, the locals of the country were all smiles seeing a rosy-cheeked, erratically moving, but ever charming Shammi Kapoor shimmying among their populace.  I didn’t see spite or racism welling up in the eyes of the onlookers. 
 I then asked my father, a fully bearded Sikh, how he lived in Italy, back in the early 80’s. He said there was virtually no racism. People we were much more accepting back then. It certainly seems that way. 
 Call it mean, but my first deed of the day today, when my sleep was broken at 6 AM, was, with some deliberation, to delete a Facebook post I wrote with birthday greetings to a person I had been friends with in college. 
 I saw that she had answered a bunch of people’s messages, thanking them profusely. She had even thanked another person, whom she absolutely hated and told me so on more than one occasion. She didn’t respond to my post and I know better than to give her the benefit of the doubt.  Bonding over our New York roots during sophomore year of college, by junior year she had transformed into a fraternity-pledging,secretive cult-type of person, rebelling against her parents by going out with someone they wouldn’t approve of, and whom she stays with today.   I didn’t judge her, although silently, in my head, I suppose I did.  She, however, chose to judge me. I was too “old-fashioned” she said as I honestly told her when I wanted to get married, the whole husband kids scenario. After attending the show my dance team put on, she met my smile with a grimace and said she thought we didn’t dance well, certainly not as good as the other team on campus whom she was besties with. She called herself their “groupie.”   She criticized the dancing my fellow dancers and I spent well over 40 hours a week perfecting, despite the fact that the hundreds of other attendees commended our technique and despite the fact that her BMI index is evidence of her never having danced a day in her life.  About 8 months after graduation we decided to meet up. She was still judging me. I was too sheltered, living with my parents. I was too sheltered, not having a paying job.   I never want to have the displeasure of speaking with that financial-job-holding sell-out who had originally wanted nothing to do with the business world, ever again. _________________________________________________________________  We all have flaws, but the lack of civility among people today has reached an all-time high.  When I send an email, I expect for that email to be returned. If I ask a question, answer “yes”, or “no.” If you have time, feel free to elaborate on your answer.  The point is: answer my email.  One of my editors asked me to send 2 paragraphs pitching a story before this past Friday. I did just that. I took time out of my day to research and write the email based off the research, not to mention the proofreading.   Today is Sunday, I have received no answer, and I could lose this story seeing as how what I want to cover will be ending this week.  Another editor asked me to cover community events in the area. I’ve traveled to, spent the day at, interviewed, transcribed, and took photos for 3 events. Only one of my stories has been published so far. He has not acknowledged the other two stories I spent days working on.   I’m trying to scale a wall that is 90 degrees perpendicular to the ground. Gravity is resisting me as I try to reach the elite status. 
 _________________________________________________________________  I wanted to cover a grand opening of a new fashion design house, conveniently, not too far from where I live. I saw a compelling story here: They were opening up their new business in New York and the only other business was in the Midwest. Also, they showed at NY Fashion Week this year.  As a New Yorker, I’ll be the first to say that if you can make it here, you can most definitely make it anywhere.  I called both the designer and her business partner.   Two phone calls, two missed phone calls, two voice mail messages and an unacknowledged Facebook message later: I was finally contacted less than 24 hours before their supposedly grand opening.  The lady on the other line seemed reluctant to have me come in and ask questions/take photos. She asked me where I lived - why, I still do not know. She then asked when I could come in. Common sense dictates that I would come when it starts, at 12 PM. I guess she lacked common sense or was just confused - we settled on 12:15 PM.  After I had said I’d be there, she quipped in: “I’ll talk to  so-and-so  and get back to you to see if you can come in.”  She said that, I swear she did.   I then replied, “Please please get back to me.”   I have witnesses.  Anyhow, she never got back to me. On the day of the event, I announced that I would never be at the mercy of someone else. No, I am not going to cover this. I am not going to prostrate at the feet of people. No one is inferior or superior to me.  Over an hour after the event already started, I received a phone call. I picked up the phone, quickly exchanged pleasantries, and in a slightly more exasperated pitch than I was going for said, “I was waiting for your call!”  “I think there has been some kind of miscommunication,” the lady on the other line said. “Yesterday I said you can definitely come in. I confirmed it yesterday. I said I would call you only if there was a problem.”  LIAR - She was lying to my face. I was not about to partake in a “No you didn’t/Yes I did” type of an exchange so I just said, “Well, I’ll try and see if I can make it”, not that I had any intention of going and showing up when everything ended. 
 What an inauspicious way to begin a new business.  Karma is a  you-know-what-profanity-to-insert-here  and I do not plan on being on the receiving end of this linguistic equation.
CXXV. Air Out That Dirty Laundry -

*Picture: Residing in a world with dryer and washer abilities myself, the act of airing out laundry on a clothing line was a shock. The old-world charm compelled me to take a photo.

The lack of humanity, empathy for the other person without regards to race or faith, is increasingly prevalent in today’s day and age.

With the recent “rape culture”, bursting out the seams of India in particular: burgeoning across the frontier of the northwest, the tropics of the east, the coast along Arabian Sea, and the heart of the capital itself, the lack of respect for and among humans is nauseating to say the very least.

I was watching some old Hindi films songs shot in European countries the other day. I realize that whatever I was watching occurred on the sets of a movie. Regardless of this fact, the locals of the country were all smiles seeing a rosy-cheeked, erratically moving, but ever charming Shammi Kapoor shimmying among their populace.
I didn’t see spite or racism welling up in the eyes of the onlookers.

I then asked my father, a fully bearded Sikh, how he lived in Italy, back in the early 80’s. He said there was virtually no racism. People we were much more accepting back then. It certainly seems that way.

Call it mean, but my first deed of the day today, when my sleep was broken at 6 AM, was, with some deliberation, to delete a Facebook post I wrote with birthday greetings to a person I had been friends with in college.

I saw that she had answered a bunch of people’s messages, thanking them profusely. She had even thanked another person, whom she absolutely hated and told me so on more than one occasion.
She didn’t respond to my post and I know better than to give her the benefit of the doubt.

Bonding over our New York roots during sophomore year of college, by junior year she had transformed into a fraternity-pledging,secretive cult-type of person, rebelling against her parents by going out with someone they wouldn’t approve of, and whom she stays with today.

I didn’t judge her, although silently, in my head, I suppose I did.

She, however, chose to judge me. I was too “old-fashioned” she said as I honestly told her when I wanted to get married, the whole husband kids scenario. After attending the show my dance team put on, she met my smile with a grimace and said she thought we didn’t dance well, certainly not as good as the other team on campus whom she was besties with. She called herself their “groupie.”

She criticized the dancing my fellow dancers and I spent well over 40 hours a week perfecting, despite the fact that the hundreds of other attendees commended our technique and despite the fact that her BMI index is evidence of her never having danced a day in her life.

About 8 months after graduation we decided to meet up. She was still judging me. I was too sheltered, living with my parents. I was too sheltered, not having a paying job.

I never want to have the displeasure of speaking with that financial-job-holding sell-out who had originally wanted nothing to do with the business world, ever again.
_________________________________________________________________

We all have flaws, but the lack of civility among people today has reached an all-time high.

When I send an email, I expect for that email to be returned. If I ask a question, answer “yes”, or “no.” If you have time, feel free to elaborate on your answer.
The point is: answer my email.

One of my editors asked me to send 2 paragraphs pitching a story before this past Friday. I did just that. I took time out of my day to research and write the email based off the research, not to mention the proofreading.

Today is Sunday, I have received no answer, and I could lose this story seeing as how what I want to cover will be ending this week.

Another editor asked me to cover community events in the area. I’ve traveled to, spent the day at, interviewed, transcribed, and took photos for 3 events. Only one of my stories has been published so far. He has not acknowledged the other two stories I spent days working on.

I’m trying to scale a wall that is 90 degrees perpendicular to the ground. Gravity is resisting me as I try to reach the elite status.

_________________________________________________________________

I wanted to cover a grand opening of a new fashion design house, conveniently, not too far from where I live. I saw a compelling story here: They were opening up their new business in New York and the only other business was in the Midwest. Also, they showed at NY Fashion Week this year.

As a New Yorker, I’ll be the first to say that if you can make it here, you can most definitely make it anywhere.

I called both the designer and her business partner.

Two phone calls, two missed phone calls, two voice mail messages and an unacknowledged Facebook message later: I was finally contacted less than 24 hours before their supposedly grand opening.

The lady on the other line seemed reluctant to have me come in and ask questions/take photos. She asked me where I lived - why, I still do not know. She then asked when I could come in. Common sense dictates that I would come when it starts, at 12 PM. I guess she lacked common sense or was just confused - we settled on 12:15 PM.

After I had said I’d be there, she quipped in: “I’ll talk to so-and-so and get back to you to see if you can come in.”

She said that, I swear she did.

I then replied, “Please please get back to me.”

I have witnesses.

Anyhow, she never got back to me. On the day of the event, I announced that I would never be at the mercy of someone else. No, I am not going to cover this. I am not going to prostrate at the feet of people. No one is inferior or superior to me.

Over an hour after the event already started, I received a phone call. I picked up the phone, quickly exchanged pleasantries, and in a slightly more exasperated pitch than I was going for said, “I was waiting for your call!”

“I think there has been some kind of miscommunication,” the lady on the other line said. “Yesterday I said you can definitely come in. I confirmed it yesterday. I said I would call you only if there was a problem.”

LIAR - She was lying to my face. I was not about to partake in a “No you didn’t/Yes I did” type of an exchange so I just said, “Well, I’ll try and see if I can make it”, not that I had any intention of going and showing up when everything ended.

What an inauspicious way to begin a new business.

Karma is a you-know-what-profanity-to-insert-here and I do not plan on being on the receiving end of this linguistic equation.