The Show Must Go On!

Before I thought of writing about this whole working-from-home phenomenon, I spent quite some time talking to friends scattered across different corners of the globe. I expected varied answers, shaped by their countries, cultures, and situations. But strangely, or maybe not so strangely, everyone had the same response. Technology, of course, was the common thread that kept the reel rolling!

In most metro cities, people usually prefer to live close to their workplace to avoid the commuting chaos. These areas are crowded, concrete-heavy, overpriced, and starved of nature. Yet, for some, cutting down that commute means snatching back a little time — to read a book, hit the gym, spend time with family, or simply indulge in more sleep. That’s perfectly fine.

But during the lockdown conversations, one thought struck me: what if work wasn’t the deciding factor for where we choose to live? What if it were the other way around? That we choose where to work depending on where we live? A big, philosophical kind of question. Most of my friends admitted that they like the flexibility and comfort of working from home. No commuting, no exhaustion, more productivity. They felt they were able to give their best without dragging along yesterday’s fatigue from long traffic jams and household chores.

It’s been over two months since the global WFH order, and I’ll admit — adjusting to this wasn’t easy. Especially for fresh graduates like me who’ve just stepped into the corporate world. Overnight, our work set-up had to be rearranged — not the smoothest transition when you’re still figuring out your place in the world and living in a sharing apartment too small to even host your books properly, and here we were struggling to make a work set-up that doesn't give back pains. 

Neighbours’ loud music, sudden internet breakdowns, and random power cuts — all added their bit of chaos. And though I love cooking, balancing work calls with chopping onions and cleaning dishes was quite a fuzzy exercise. But oddly enough, I realised — the busier I stay, the happier I am.

It took just a day or two to iron out the time management issues. And honestly, when you love your work, the distractions fade away. Having a self-made rulebook helps, along with a supportive boss and a spirited team. I’ve been lucky to have both.

Still, it’s hard to ignore the contrast. Just a few months back, working 10 hours in an office meant planning our day together, brainstorming, sharing silly chai-break conversations, laughing over cab-woes at 6:30 am, celebrating birthdays and festivals, eating from the same plate, pulling legs, and posing for photos. Now suddenly, the same job happens in silence within four walls. That shift, that sudden pause, felt like a huddle in the truest sense.

Perhaps this is the new normal. Or maybe, this is the prototype of a new world of work.

On a lighter note, WFH solved 99% of my “what should I wear today” dilemma.  And if you are in Delhi NCR, let me tell you, no matter where you live, you can never escape the legendary 6:00 pm traffic! But suddenly there was no traffic at all. Morning video calls now start with planning tasks and exchanging opinions, and our ‘virtual chai breaks’ have become the adda sessions we once had in the cafeteria. Pets pop into video calls, neighbours’ music leaks in, and birthdays now mean everyone singing awkwardly into their laptop microphones. The engagement team does its bit too — daily mails, virtual karaoke, quiz contests, photo-sharing, and happy hours. And those little appreciation notes that still make you smile like a child.

Oddly enough, though we’re no longer together in one building, I feel people are more connected now than before. Over-communicating, constant check-ins, virtual breaks — all of this keeps us from slipping into nervous exhaustion or isolation. Maybe this standstill has taught us the real value of time and the people who matter.

On my side, I do miss my family terribly. When I see colleagues sharing photos with theirs, that pang hits harder. I know there are many like me, living away from home, who would do anything to be with family right now. Well, travel restrictions are serious now. But sometimes you choose distance to keep them safe. Perhaps this, too, is a part of adulting. Slowly, I am getting there. I also miss the office itself — the chatter, the energy. But I know for sure I’ve become calmer, more self-reliant. The time I save from commuting, I now use to read, to write, and — being a Bengali, I admit unapologetically — to overthink!

Initially, I kept asking myself — how on earth did I end up here? But then, gradually, I felt delighted. Delighted that I learned to respect time, to pause without guilt. Delighted that I realised it’s foolish to take anyone for granted, because life is too fragile. And when you do look back, it should be at memories that warm you.

And so, no matter what, the reel keeps rolling. The show must go on.