The hash is always greener...

Joint: [n]
The point where two components of a structure join, but are still able to rotate.

(smoking, slang) A marijuana cigarette.


I have lived in the corporate world. I have lived in the non-corporate world.

The paths taken by lives in this world, which is defined as 'corporate', largely centre around the profession, the job, the thing that one does on week-days in return for which bank accounts are filled. To be fair, there are distractions like spouses, children, taxes, the rising prices of fuel, rice and NAV's of the Franklin Templeton mutual funds. Any cricket match that may be on becomes a hot topic of discussion to punctuate lunch-time conversations which, otherwise, revolve around the most immediate customer requirement.

I have sat through the anecdote of a proud colleague who, one day, decided (on an absolutely reckless whim) to fill his car up on 'premium' fuel instead of regular. The absolute hilarity that he later found in an incident where he used the phrase "unzip it and send" in an e-mail to someone of the female species, is something remarkable. (He was, apparently, referring to a file of some kind which had been compressed.)

The zest shown towards an inter-department football match, the pride of owning the coolest phone on the floor, the jealousy towards someone who managed to purchase a Honda Civic, the contempt with which the HR department is held because of changes in the leave policy, the elation at the thought that the party at the end of each month serves beer: these are some of the many many fascinating colours that paint a picture that one can only appreciate if one is a part of it.

On the other hand... there is another world – The only way I know to describe it is 'non-corporate'. However, that name does it no justice, for it shows what its not, and not what it is.

A world where ecstasy can be found in something as epic as a twenty-year dream finally being fulfilled, or as simple as the sight of a flower blooming; where troubles come only in the form of true pain – the kind of pain that can only result from a true investment of mind, body and soul; where frequent heart-aches and orgasms make a person grow each and every day; where joy has to be found in something, anything, in order to say that that day may end.

In this world, lives follow paths laid out by their passions – the courage to pursue which sometimes needing the help of other people with whom close relationships must be forged. Relationships are maintained at the risk of ending up with a shattered heart. Some strange source then provides the strength to pick up the pieces of that broken heart and re-build it into a whole new person.

Here, what matters is not money, or politics, or the falling price of onions… here, what matters is life itself – the tears at the end of an argument; the applause at having created a work of art; the smile that grows while lying in bed, waiting for your pulse rate to slow down again; the glimpsing image, branded in your brain, of the most beautiful person you have ever seen through the window of a train just as it pulled away; a fifteen-year marriage ending.

It feels like someone, sitting and watching our universe on a big-screen, high-definition LCD TV, has hiked up the brightness and contrast to make everything just more intense. So much so as to change the meaning of the word 'joint'.

I often wonder what would happen if the people of the former world were put into situations of the latter.

And then, there's me. I straddle the two worlds, sometimes fitting into both and sometimes neither. Perhaps that's why I, sometimes, feel torn.