Newerways

The months since November have been a roller coaster ride. With nothing in hand But everything on mind. My inbox, though, is full. Every email begins “Thank you for applying, but we have decided to move ahead….   or “We will get back to you.” They rarely do.   If I had been algorithmic, I would have dished out Rejections to scale. Automated the disappointments. Optimised the coping mechanism   But I am human I work differently   Mind you, I’m not unemployed. I’m training an Algorithm with my patience.   Can’t you see the results? The system is very efficient. Rejection is instant. Silence is scalable. Hiring Managers think I’m not a fit. I think it’s a “Job We Met” kind of situation.

I searched for internships/jobs with a résumé full of intention and a quiet knowledge that the world had moved on without me. My internship applications were carefully formatted CVs, tailored with buzzwords, and ironed of typos. I wasn’t sure, but I walked on. No, bustling open offices, only job portals, sleek, algorithmic spaces from the comforts of my home. Scrolling through listings that asked for entry-level interns with three years of experience. I was too much yet not enough at the same time. Every unanswered application felt like a look that said, you don’t belong here . I refreshed my inbox, hopefully, pretending routine could substitute for reassurance. I’m still Rebuilding my skills Studying how real teams interact Turning feedback into small, measurable improvements If watching  the intern  on Netflix is any solace, I hope to find my own, sans the drama in the movie and prove to myself that age is just a number. Like Ben, I no longer feel I’m waiting to be useful. I...

My mother once told me that senior citizens have money and power. I laughed. Then I watched her buy medical devices like some people buy shoes, and I stopped laughing. A few years ago, I accompanied her to ICICI Bank. The moment we stepped through the door, the staff transformed into a hospitality brigade. A chair appeared. A relationship manager materialized, murmuring, "Auntie, please sit." Someone offered water. Another person advised rest after she'd climbed her Everest (a flight of stairs). Meanwhile, I stood off to the side like an unpaid intern nobody remembered hiring. When we left, I said, "They really treat senior citizens like royalty. You got the chair, the priority queue, the smiles. I didn't even get a nod." She smiled. "Of course. Senior citizens have money and power." I was still processing power when she added, "Youngsters are too busy upgrading their lifestyles. We're the ones saving." The logic was airtight. The ban...