Tag: reality

It’s a Fine Line

Her mother once told her, “Handcrafts are a girl’s best friend.”

She had always had a knack for weaving tight knots. She adored the complexity in the bonds and the scrutiny that it demanded.

It was like meditation for her; first in, then out, squirming through loopholes and around shady corners. Whenever she took a wrong turn, someone always showed up, armed with help. Every plan she wove became an adventure, and every day an action-packed, adrenaline-pumping endeavour.

And as the lawmakers came after her, they realised she was best friends with the crafty and not the handcrafts.

The Absolution That Comes From Unrest

If you think that that’s one scary title, let me break it down: it’s a trap being like everyone else.

Throughout our lives, we’ve been taught to blend in, conform, adjust, and settle without complaint. And to make it all worse, our parents tell us to think about the ones who aren’t as lucky as we are; that ought to shut up a whiny kid.

Since a young age, we are moulded to be like everyone else, and accept what we get. We don’t think beyond what’s given. We are discouraged to, in fact. Even in school, the hyper kid is the first to get punished. If a kid sits in class without questioning the teacher (or throwing paper balls at the board), all would be well.

So we obey the rules, follow the orders, take what we get, compromise when we’re overpowered, and just grow up to be the average tax payer.

It’s the curse of being human. We don’t ask for more.

And it’s everywhere, even in the literature that we cherish and appreciate. Look at our Oliver, for instance. They chased him out of school and cast him into a world of misery — all because he asked for more.

However, what we often forget about Oliver Twist is that if he hadn’t asked for more, we wouldn’t’ve heard of him at all. He could’ve stayed in his bench, licked his bowl clean, and went off to bed. But he didn’t. The moment he asked for more, Oliver broke though all barriers and went beyond every line. The result, changed the course of literature and the life of Dickens.

That’s the power of a rebellion, of unrest.

For as long as we stay with the herd, as long as we settle, we limit ourselves. But when we think beyond the borders of the square we’ve been thrust into, we can reshape our lives.

Support Unsupportive

If you’ve been on the internet at all, you’ll know too well how hard it is to figure some apps out. We’re always using these apps — blogging tools, photo editors, text editors, proofreaders, budget managers, ebook readers, reminders (my saviour) — you get the point. These aren’t luxury apps either, they’re necessities. That’s why it’s important that these apps are proper. For the most part, my apps are great. They’re pretty straightforward so I don’t have to toil much. Not all products are like that, though. Some products work fine until they don’t anymore. When that happens, I panic.

Because when something isn’t working as it should, I have no choice but to call customer support. I can’t stand the idea of asking for help. Not because I’m an egotistical bastard, but because customer support isn’t supportive at all. You almost never get the feeling that the person sitting on the other side is, in fact, a person. They’re more like robots with western names.

Whenever I write to the customer support team of a product, I get an automated reply. Which is alright, because that’s how they acknowledge mail. But then they reply to my message with another message that makes me wish they hadn’t bothered at all. It’s incredible how support teams treat customers. They scatter words that make no sense and punctuation that makes everything worse. Some emails echo satire — without intention. “Welcome to the world’s best support team,” they say when they’re far from helpful, and not even close to good. Sure, I can tolerate the waiting time, but I can’t tolerate inhuman response.

“Sorry for your troubles. Any inconvenience is regretted.” That’s the most passive aggressive statement anyone can say to another person, let alone someone asking for help. Of course, the inconvenience is regretted, but what are you doing about it, apart from declaring said nonexistent regret?

I can understand, though. Supporting is tough. It’s exhausting to answer the same questions to a bunch of people who refuse to understand. It’s tough playing the educator to people who’re determined to act stupid. It’s stressful to deal with angry customers across the globe — when more than half of them don’t even speak your language.

Nevertheless, at the end of the day, the customer is king — or queen. And that’s why patience is a virtue. That’s why humaneness is a value. In this age when people tweet hate-words to get the attention of a company, it’s just too easy to bring corporations down.

But it’s not about bringing corporations down with the “power of the people.” It’s just plain hurtful to open my inbox and look at a reply that says, “Your patience is appreciated,” when I know that’s not true. I’d rather decode the product for myself, even if I have to read an unhelpful help document. And when it goes beyond me, it’s easier still to give up altogether. Besides, if one product fails, there are a hundred alternatives online.

Ever had trouble with customer support? Sure you have. What did you do?

The Surprise

Ever since Jessica started bringing lunch from home, somehow, it would go missing. The first day, she laughed it off, amused that someone didn’t like her eating healthy. As days went by, though, it started to get on her nerves.

The person who kept stealing her lunch out of the office refrigerator was in for a big surprise today, she thought to herself rolling the rice-paper sandwich and securing it in place with a toothpick.

When the busboy who brought coffee sneaked into her lunch, as usual, he saw a second sandwich with a note: “Happy to share!”