Day (minus)16: Resigned to fate

Come to think of it, fate is like dog poop (What can I say. I have a thing for dogs. And I am a big fan of toilet humor). 

You can decide, one day, to start keeping a log of a stray dog’s bowel movements. You can be meticulous about it, logging in details that I would not gross out readers with. You can make it the mission of your life, if you so wish. But the dog doesn’t care. He is not affected by your obsession. There is no Heisenberg’s principle at work here. He goes when he feels like it, irrespective of whether you take thorough notes on your little clipboard or not – his decisions are random in all their splendor and glory.

It’s the same with fate. Life goes on – whether we document it or not. And isn’t the haphazardness of it all half the fun? Why, then, this ridiculous societal fixation towards formal record-keeping?

I had to type out my first resignation letter today. It was not a nice experience. It took me longer to draft those 3 sentences than this entire post. The unstoppable force of my love for my work met with the immovable object of mankind’s aforementioned obsession for formalities. 

So, naturally, I turned to Google for salvation. Try googling “resignation letter”. It is a deluge out there. I didn’t know what was worse – the excruciatingly  formal “Thank you for the opportunity”, or the viciously unusable “I hate you. KThxBai.” 

At the end of it, I went for numbly stating the facts. “This is to formally confirm my resignation from xyz post. Please note that I will leave on xyz day. Sincerely, Me.”

Who would die if our social diktat didn’t have to make me type that painful thing out? I know who wouldn’t – a small part of me.

I am starting to sound like a hippie now. No offence to hippies. I think you guys are cool. From a safe distance.