Authors: ARUN GUPTA
I dreaded the day when I would have to teach in such classes. My own
Delhi accent was impossible to get rid of, and I must have come last in my
accent class.
‘I have to get out of this,’ I said to myself as I went to Bakshi’s cabin.
Bakshi was in his oversized office, starting at his computer with his
mouth open. As I cam in, he rapidly closed the windows. He was probably
surfing the Internet for bikini babes or something.
‘Good evening sir,’ I said.
‘Oh hello, Sam… please come in.’ Bakshi liked to call us by our Western
names. I hated it.
I walked into his office slowly, to give him time to close his favorite
websites.
‘Come, come Sam, don’t worry. I believe in being an open door
manager.’ Bakshi said.
I looked at his big square face, unusually large for his 5’6” body. The
oversized face resembled the Ravan cut-out at Dusshera. His face shone as
usual. It was the first thing you noticed about Bakshi—the oilfields on his face.
I think if you could recreate Bakshi’s skin as our landscape, you could solve
India’s oil problem. Priyanka told me one that when she met Bakshi for the
first time, she had an overwhelming urge to take a tissue and wipe it hard
across his face. I do not think one tissue would be enough though.
Bakshi was around thirty but looked forty and spoke like he was fifty.
He had worked in Connexions for the past three years. Before that, he did an
MBA from some unpronounceable university in South India. He though he was
Michael Porter or something (Porter is this big management guru—I didn’t
know either, but Bakshi told me in an FYI once) and loved to talk in manager’s
languages or Managese, which is another languages like English and American.
‘So, how are the resources doing?’ Bakshi said, swiveling on his chair.
He never refers to us a people; we are all ‘resources.’
‘Fine, sir. I actually to talk about a problem. The phone lines are not
walking property—lots of static coming in the calls. Can you ask systems…’
‘Fine, sir. I actually wanted to talk about a problem. The phone lines
are not working propely—lots of static coming in the calls. Can you ask
systems…’
‘Sam,’ Bakshi said, pointing a pen at me.
‘Yes?’
‘What did I tell you?’
‘About what?’
‘About how to approach problems.’
‘What?’
‘Think.’
I though hard, but nothing came to mind.
I don’t remember sir…. Solve them?’
‘No. I said big pictures. Always start at the big picture.’
I was puzzled.
What was the big picture her
e? There was static coming
through on the phones and we had to ask systems to fix it. I could have called
them myself, but Bakshi’s intervention would get a faster response.
‘Sir, it is a specific issue. Customers are hearing disturbance…’
‘Sam,’ Bakshi sighed and signaled me to sit down, ‘what makes a good
manager?’
‘What?’ I sat down in front of him and surreptitiously looked at my
watch. It was 10:57 p.m. I hoped the call flow was moderate so the others
wouldn’t have a tough time with one less person on the desk.
‘Wait,’ Bakshi said and took out a writing pad and pen. He placed the
pad on the middle of the table and then drew a graph that looked like this:
He finished the graph and turned the notebook hundred and eighty
degrees to make it face me. He clicked his pen shut with a swagger, as proud
as da Vinci finishing the Mona Lisa.
‘Sir, systems?’ I said, after staying silent for a few seconds.
‘Wait, first you tell me. What is this?’ Bakshi said and taped his index finger
on the diagram.
I tried to make sense of the chart and possibly connection to the static
on the phone lines. I couldn’t get it.
I shook my head in defeat.
‘Tch-tch, see let me tell you,’ Bakshi said. ‘This chart is your career. If
you want to be more senior, you have to move up this curve.’ He put a finger
on the curve and traced it, guiding me on how I should look at my life.
‘Yes sir’ I said having nothing better to say.
‘And do you know how to do that/’
I shook my head. Vroom probably though I was out smoking. I did feel
some smoke coming out of my ears.
‘Big Picture. I just told you focus on the big picture. Learn to identify
the strategic variables, Sam.’
Before I could speak, he had pulled out his pen again and was drawing
another diagram.
‘Maybe I can explain this to you with the help of a 2x2 matrix,’ Bakshi
said and bent down to wrote ‘High and ‘Low’ along the boxes. I had to stop
him.
‘Sir please,’ I said, placing both my hands down to cover the sheet.
‘What?’ he said with irritation, as if Einstein had been disturbed at
work.
‘Sir, this is really interesting to me. I must come back and learn this. But
right now any team is waiting and my shift is in progress.’
‘So?’ Bakshi said.
‘The phones, sir. Please tell systems they should check the WASG bay
urgently,’ I said, without pausing to breathe.
‘Huh?’ Bakshi said, surprised at how fast I speaking.
‘Just call systems sir,’ I said and stood up, ‘using that.’ I pointed at his
telephone and rushed back to my bay.
#7
‘Nice break eh?’ Vroom said when I returned to our bay ‘C’mon man,
just went to Bakshi’s office about the static,’ I said.
“Is he sending someone?’ Vroom asked as he untangled his phone wires.
‘He said I should identify the strategic variable first,’ I said and sat down
on my seat. I rested my face on my hands.
‘Strategic variables? What’s that?’ Vroom said, without looking at me.
‘How the hell do I know?’ I snorted. ‘If I did, I would be team leader. He also
made some diagrams’
Radhika, Esha and Priyanka were busy on calls. Every few seconds, they
would turn the phone away from their ears to avoid the loud static. I wished
the systems guy would come by soon.
‘What diagram?’ Vroom said, as he took out some chewing gum from his
drawer. He offered one to me.
‘Some crap 2x2 matrix or something,’ I said, declining Vroom’s offer.
‘Poor Bakshi, he is just a little silly but a harmless creature. Don’t worry
about him,’ Vroom said.
‘Where the hell is the systems guy?’ I picked up the telephone and
spoke to the systems department. They had not yet received a call from
Bakshi. ‘Can you please come fast…yes, we have an emergency…yes, our
manager knows about it.’
‘I can’t believe Bakshi hasn’t called them yet,’ I said, after I had got the
systems guys to promise they’d send someone right away.
‘Things are bad around here, my friend,’ Vroom said. ‘Bad news may be
coming.’
‘What do you mean? Are they cutting jobs?’ I asked, now a little worried
and anxious, along with being frustrated. It’s amazing how all these nasty
emotions decide to visit me together.
‘I’m trying to find out,’ Vroom said, clinking open a window on his
screen. ‘The Western Computers account is really suffering. If we lose that
account, the call center will sink.’
‘Crap. I heard something about it from Shefali. I think the website we
made was too useful. People have stopped calling us,’ I said.
A visitor in our bay interrupted our conversation. I knew he was the
systems guy, as he had three pages on his belt and two memory cards around
his neck.
Priyanka told him about the problem and made him listen to the static.
The systems guy asked us to disconnect our lines for ten minutes.
Everyone removed their headsets. I saw Esha adjusting her hair. She
does it at least ten times a night. First she will remove the rubber band that’s
tying up her hair and her hair will come loose. Then, she assembles it all
together and ties it back again.
Her hair was light-colored and intensely curly towards the ends: the
result of an expensive hair styling job, which cost as much as a minor surgery.
It didn’t even look that nice if you ask me. Naturally curly hair is one thing,
but processed curly hair looks like tangled telephone wires.
I saw Vroom stare at Esha. It is never easy for guys to work with a hot
girl in office. I mean, what are you supposed to do? Ignore their sexiness and
stare at your computer? Sorry, somehow I don’t think men were designed to
do that.
Radhika took her pink wool out from her bag and started to knot
frantically Military Uncle’s system was still working and somehow glued to his
monitor.
‘What are you knitting?’ Esha turned to Radhika.
‘A scarf for my mother-in-law. Damn sweet she is, feels cold at night,’
Radhika said.
‘She is not sweet—‘ Vroom began to say but Radhika interrupted him.
‘Shh Vroom. She is fine, just traditional.’
‘And that sucks, right? Vroom said.
‘Not at all. In fact, I like the cozy family feeling. They are only a little
bit old-fashioned,’ Radhika said and smiled. I did not think the smile was
genuine, but it was none of my business.
‘Yeah right. Only a little. As in always cover your head with your sari
types,’ Vroom said.
‘They make you cover your head?’ Esha asked, speaking through teeth
clenched around her rubber band.
‘They don’t
make
me do anything, Esha. I am willing to follow their
culture. All married women in their house do it,’ Radhika said.
‘Still it is a bit weird,’ Esha said.
‘Anyway, I tool it as a challenge. I love Anuj and he said he came as a
package. But yeah, sometimes I miss wearing low waist jeans like you wore
the day before.’
I was amazed Radhika remembered what Esha wore the day before.
Only women have this special area in the brain that keeps track of everything
they and their friends wore the last fifty times.
‘You think those jeans?’ Esha said, her eyes lighting up.
‘I love them. But I guess you need the right figure for them,’ Radhika
said. ‘Anyways, sorry to change the topic guys, but we’re forgetting
something here.’
‘What? The systems?’ I asked, as I looked under the table. The systems
guy lurked within, in a jungle wires. He told me would need ten more
minutes.
I checked my watch. I was 11:20 p.m. I wondered if Bakshi would be
coming for his daily rounds soon.
‘Not the static,’ Radhika said as she kept her knitting aside. ‘Miss
Priyanka has some big news for us, remember?’
‘Oh yes. C’mon Priyanka tell us,’ Esha screamed. Military Uncle looked
up from his screen for a second, and then went back to work. I wondered if
he’d been this quiet when he lived with his son and daughter-in-law.
‘Okay I do have something to tell you,’ Priyanka said with a sheepish
grin, making her two dimples more prominent. She brought out a box of
sweets from her large plastic bag.
‘Whatever your news is, we do get to eat the sweets, right? Vroom
wanted to know.
‘Of course,’ Priyanka said, carefully opening the red cellophane
wrapping on the box. I hate it when she is so methodical. Just trip the damn
wrapping off, I thought. Anyway, it was not my business. I looked under the
table for a few seconds, as if to help the systems guy. Of Course, my ears
were focused on Priyanka’s every word.
‘So, what’s up? Oh milk cake, my favourite,’ Radhika said, even as
Vroom jumped to grab the first piece.
‘I’ll tell you, but you guys have to swear it won’t leave WASG,’ Priyanka
said. She offered the box to Radhika and Esha. Radhika took two pieces, while
Esha broke the tiniest piece possible with human fingers. I guess the low-cut
jeans figure comes at a price.
‘Of course we won’t tell anyone. I hardly have any friends outside the