{"id":5799,"date":"2007-03-20T17:18:00","date_gmt":"2007-03-20T11:48:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.indiauncut.com\/?p=563"},"modified":"2007-03-20T17:18:00","modified_gmt":"2007-03-20T11:48:00","slug":"unemployed","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/indiauncut.com\/unemployed\/","title":{"rendered":"Unemployed"},"content":{"rendered":"
In 2001 when I took up a job at Wisden, I told myself that this would be the last job of my life, I’d become a full-time writer after this. Well, that gig lasted a bit longer than I’d expected, as Wisden bought Cricinfo and I was its managing editor for a while in India, but I finally managed to break loose late last year. Immense relief came. Vast quantities of freedom unleashed itself upon me. <\/p>\n
This does present a problem, though. Every once in a while people ask me what I do, and will not be satisfied with any answer I give. If I say I’m a blogger, they look at me as if I’m mad. If I say I’m a writer, they look at me as if I’m crazy. If I say I make crosswords for a living, they check my temperature, their clammy palm trembling on my sensuous forehead.<\/p>\n
So I simply say I’m unemployed, and smile widely. I tried this at a quiz at NMIMS a few days ago (report here<\/a>), when the finalists were announced. It was an open quiz, and all the other teams were from corporations or colleges. When our turn came to introduce ourselves, the quizmaster, a Kolkata veteran named Gautam Ghosh (not the blogger), asked me where we were from. <\/p>\n “We’re from nowhere,” I said. “At least I’m not. I’m unemployed.”<\/p>\n Mr Ghosh’s mouth fell open. “You are what?” he asked, his voice tinged with obvious concern.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" In 2001 when I took up a job at Wisden, I told myself that this would be the last job of my life, I’d become a full-time writer after this. Well, that gig lasted a bit longer than I’d expected, as Wisden bought Cricinfo and I was its managing editor for a while in India, but I finally managed to break loose late last year. Immense relief came. Vast quantities of freedom unleashed itself upon me. <\/p>\n This does present a problem, though. Every once in a while people ask me what I do, and will not be satisfied with any answer I give. If I say I’m a blogger, they look at me as if I’m mad. If I say I’m a writer, they look at me as if I’m crazy. If I say I make crosswords for a living, they check my temperature, their clammy palm trembling on my sensuous forehead.<\/p>\n So I simply say I’m unemployed, and smile widely. I tried this at a quiz at NMIMS a few days ago (report here<\/a>), when the finalists were announced. It was an open quiz, and all the other teams were from corporations or colleges. When our turn came to introduce ourselves, the quizmaster, a Kolkata veteran named Gautam Ghosh (not the blogger), asked me where we were from. <\/p>\n “We’re from nowhere,” I said. “At least I’m not. I’m unemployed.”<\/p>\n Mr Ghosh’s mouth fell open. “You are what?” he asked, his voice tinged with obvious concern.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"yoast_head":"\n