Every boxer must have thought, at one time or another, about what it would feel like to be hit by a Mike Tyson or a Sonny Liston. All would have also wondered whether they would be able to take it and fight on, or succumb to the lure of canvas. Similarly, every working man will have pondered on the prospects of being laid off - would also have wondered, if they would be able to endure the axe or would their spirit be diminished by its blunt swipe. I have always shuddered at the prospect of being told that my services were no longer required.
When it did happen however, I saw it coming before it hit me. For a while I thought I would avoid its frantic swing, but having seen so many people before me punched out, I had toughened myself for its eventual impact. I had a few months to prepare for the blow, and in those months I had the opportunity to study how others, who went before me, took it. Some went out with a spring in their step and others with their backs broken. Some took it as par for the course, and others as if their world had crumbled. Some went with a smile on their lips and others with tears in their eyes. It is unfair to categorize people’s reactions and judge them on that basis, as they are a function of their individual situation. The initial staff retrenched, were the hardest hit, as it was completely unexpected. Later batches got more inured to the inevitability, as the scale of the economic slide became apparent. During those months I learned to steel myself, to ensure that when it did happen, I would leave graciously. I rehearsed daily as to what I would say and do when the shot was fired.
In fact I prepared myself so well, that I felt a strange sense of déjà vu when I was given the ritual speech. It was as if I was reliving a moment that had already transpired, and as I walked out, in a strange way, I felt elated and free - liberated from a great yoke. My mind of course, was already starting to protest. I remember thinking that I was still maybe mildly sedated from the shock, or the fact that I was jobless during one of the biggest downturns of our generation, had yet to sink in. It was strange to know that while one part of my brain was experiencing emotions of positivity, another was trying to stir up the waters, muddy them with the irrational fear that is supposed to grip any professional who has just been given the pink slip. It would take time for it to sink in, I told myself.
That night I could not sleep. I still had to go back to the office the next day to handover some tasks (very uncommon considering that all others had been given only half an hour to clear their desks). That gave me an opportunity to say goodbye to my staff and the other battered survivors who I had worked with. I came home that evening relaxed, but wondering how to take it ahead, how to break the news to the wider community. So far only my immediate family and one friend (well he is almost family) knew. My wife and I took the decision that I would draft and send one email the next morning, to everyone I knew at once. That would prevent gossip and innuendo from spreading around. That was the hardest night, the night before I spread the news. Looking back it was probably the wisest course of action, as everyone who mattered got the news directly from me, though there were many friends copied in, who did not receive the email. The reactions of the people to that mail are so diverse, that they could be the subject of another blog. That night I slept like a baby.
Three days later and I felt no different. I had a sense of optimism that almost bordered on bravura, and in my own mind I have been extremely conscious of the fact that maybe I am not seeing the picture for what it is. The situation could be direr than what I make of it, and I might rue the day that I took the first step on this new journey. I have read my own diaries over the last few months, and in some of them I see my own prescience of what was to come. I had somehow invited this situation, attracted it in a perverse sense of self flagellation. Maybe at a deep level I had wanted to face my biggest fear and see if I could stand the test.
Well it has been more than three weeks now, and the feeling persists. I have spent most of my time developing a network with consultants and headhunters, polishing up my CV and actually making different versions of it (something that I had never done before). Have met loads of people, in lots of different places, and posted my various versions of CV's in numerous sites. In fact I have lost count of the companies that I have registered with, and worry that when one of them calls I might not even be able to recall my registration. The first two weeks were frenetic, in getting myself positioned in the market, approaching contacts and basically making my situation known. Now the soil has been ploughed and the seeds have been planted, and all I can do like any good farmer, is to wait for the harvest.
As I reel back the days of my life, I realize that in my over 4 decades on this Earth, I have never been in this situation. This is virgin territory for me! For the first time in my entire life I have no idea of my next step. Ever since I can remember, from school days on, I knew what my next step would be i.e. it would be the next grade, or senior school or university. Once I started to work, every job was parachuted out from, only when the next landing was in sight. Today the road ahead is dense with mist, and the forks ahead are unmapped terrain. I stand on an empty road, full of excitement and anticipation of where it might lead me. Everything around me has this feel of tanginess and freshness, as if I am seeing familiar things with new eyes. Of course, there is a voice that tells me that I cannot persist like this forever. I need to get back on to the treadmill, before it gets too late to ever get on.
However, as I wait for the summons, I busy myself with regrounding my life. There is no daily routine, which itself is a huge break from the last 20 over years. I spend my mornings surfing the net, answering emails, exercising, going to the beach or running errands and reading. Afternoons, if I do not have a meeting with friends or contacts are for household chores like laundry and cleaning up. I actually prefer to keep all meetings for afternoons, to prevent myself from napping every day. Evenings are at the club with my children. My fitness is getting back to decent levels, though I just cannot seem to lose the excess weight that I have put on in the last year or so, (I think I have gotten to love food too much).
Every day is a new beginning, as all it would take is one telephone call to change the course of my life. There is a tinge of excitement as I get up each morning to see what the day holds for me, and as each day ends, I thank the powers that be, for the bounty of blessings that have been showered on me, my wife who is my rock, my family who never wavers, and my friends who have gone out of their way to help in whatever way they can. I have faced my own version of Mike Tyson, and having been on the receiving end of one of his most powerful blows, stood back up to see what else he could throw. It is not often in life that one gets to meet ones nemesis and come out the better for it.
