The toxic cubicle

She walks up to my cubicle, kneels down and whispers.

"I've something to tell you."
"Ha ha! Are you quitting?"
"Errr... Yes."
"Ha ha! Are you kidding?"
"Errr... No."

Two resignations in two days. And both are close friends of mine. One of them used to be my boss before I was promoted and put in charge of another team. She was the one who had taught me how to run the magazine. The other is my lunch buddy and a very close friend. This news was the last thing I needed to hear, after the comeback from my recent depression. My friends are leaving the country in a few months. I did not need this.

I can't blame them. Being an editor is stressful, no two ways about it. And sooner or later, they all leave. Some even live the full shelf life of 2 years. Yes, most of us love this job. But apart from job satisfaction, the rewards in this job are few. So inspite of loving the job, they leave. Those who are in their comfort zone, or who love it too much to be able to leave, wait and hope for the toxic cubicle to get them.

I call my cubicle the toxic cubicle.

Its effects spread far and wide, and in all directions. Whoever sits in its vicinity finds the determination to quit when the stress levels get too high. I have been the only constant feature of that zone for the last 2 years. All others have come and gone. I joke about it. All the time. I say, "I control the vibes of the toxic cubicle. It will get you if you pray hard enough. It will give you courage to make up your mind and hand over that resignation letter."

Maybe it's my way of handling the depressing situation. I use humour to stay sane. I even have people coming and requesting me to send some of the vibes their way. I joke about that too. I say, "The toxic cubicle only helps those who help themselves."

Another close colleague -- who will probably be the next one -- said to me that considering how close I was to the two who're leaving, I handled the news well.

Yes, I tried. I tried to stay unfazed. But was I really?

Crazy shopping spree did not help. Buying diamonds worth a thousand dollars did not help. Maybe it would have, if they were for myself.

Yes, I am going quite balmy.

I shall obsess over this song to stay unfazed.

Haath chhoote bhi toh rishtey nahin chhoda karte...
waqt ki shaakh se lamhe nahin toda karte...
Shehed jeene ka mila karta hai thoda thoda...
Jaane waalon ke liye dil nahin toda karte...