My High Deed Card - An Obituary

Well, the past 2 weeks have been difficult .. my ID card refusing to swipe on the access doors in my company. Scary thoughts of that pink slip on it's way to my desk sooner than later gathered storm, despite the fact that my antique 5.5 year old ID card has stood the test of time.

And what a time it has been through. Refusing to crack under constant swiping, which has been the only proof of my hard work (I earnestly request my supposedly sincere readers to NOT cough in jest), it has seen the evolution of my company, and the cracks on the old ID card are a testament to the rigours of working in the IT industry.

Dialogues apart, the scare of the pinkslip, gave way to the realistic thought of that emotional moment, which I always dreaded. Parting with my ID card, to make way for a new one, hopefully ushering in a new lease of life into an oasis-bereft desert I have been traversing (heavy stuff, huh ! Honestly, this was indeed meant to be a useless piece of art attempted at, though very earnestly !). My card bid good bye to me, with the last rites being performed at the security desk, where the guard was kind enough to hand me a replacement for it.


The ailing story of my card, had come to light 2 weeks back, when the health of it deteriorated, with successful swipes becoming more of an intermittent affair than a truly consistent one. I had to force my card into performing, urging it to get closer to the access reader, and extracting the last ounce of swipe from it. It tried, it swiped, beeped, but the moment was nearing. Unlike the test career of Saurav Ganguly, which has been race tracked into retirement, my card was certainly ailing and breathing it's last. Certainly, no VRS schemes for my ID card I say.

Tragically, I could not even give my ID card a decent farewell, after I realised on Saturday when at office, that it had died a silent death. Refusing to turn on the access door, like it had consistently done in the past. The number of turn ons my ID card has given the access doors in my company, are well worth hundreds of pages in any book on Software-Sutra. It had left me stranded with the unenviable and oft embarrassing task of finding a photo of myself to replace the one on my late card.

Finding a photo of oneself could have been so much easier, had I not taken too much enthusiasm in taking others' photos all these years. Turning to photography as a passion and hobby is one thing, but turning around in every photo in which I pose solo is not befitting a company ID card. I realised this last night, when I frantically searched and skimmed through photos of the past, from when that last pimple on my left cheek had vanished.

Adding to the filtering process of finding the right photo was the task of finding one with a blue background. Agreed, I am no offender of the law, who is getting behind the bars, but to actually find a photo of mine, in a blue background can be tough to figure out, when you consider people around me take my photos in the night without flash. I gave up my search and conceded to the security guard, that indeed, he had the hon(rr)or of taking my solo photo.

Just like Lehmann Brothers went bankrupt, my poor card went swiperupt. My photo which still can be used for the new ID card, has become an antique piece, star(e)ing in the onlookers eyes for more than 5 long years. Accidental viewers of my profile on the intranet portal in my company, deserve a more pleasing appearance to bear with. My friends, just because I often go for trips, should I deprive myself of my passion for photography and let you take my photos against your own wishes ?

I felt, unless I go for another trek, without my favourite Panasonic Lumix DMC FZ7, I wouldn't get a decent photo of myself. Sometimes, sense prevails, and for a change it prevailed over my crowded mind, and I decided against this remarkably sane idea. Before I unveil the blue coloured lungi in my room, to get the blue background for a self portrait at home, let me log off.