Archive for the ‘Work’ category
For me the word cover means the brown jacket that my mom used to put on my school books. I remember, at the start of every school year my mom used to cover my books with a brown paper. I never did it because it was my mom’s duty. I remember my only duty regarding covers was to tear them.
Few weeks back I borrowed a book from a colleague for official purpose. Actually it was text book to help me refresh few concepts. I had a look at the concepts and told myself that here, Prof Google would be much more helpful. Another colleague needed the book and I gave the book to her.
The colleague returned me the book with few pages falling off the book. She was smiling and I knew I was in trouble. I was still working on the same project and decided that I could delay breaking my colleague’s heart. I made one mistake. I took the book and tossed it at the end of my desk.
Yesterday the colleague who had lent me the book came to my desk. We chatted for a while and he left after telling me that I must ask the office peon to bind the book. I took the book to the office peon for binding and the office peon told me that spiral binding is for manuals, not books.
I came back to my desk and thought about getting the book binded at personal cost. It was a good idea with only one flaw. I didn’t know anyone who binded books in Pune. I had a look at the book and realized the book was still in a good shape. All I needed to do was to paste few pages using gum and do something that would ensure the book’s condition didn’t deteriorated until I finished the project. The answer was simple. All I had to do was to put a cover on the book.
There is a stationery store near my home. I can get the shiny brown book cover from there. However, I return from office so exhausted that I can’t make a detour just to buy a roll of brown paper and the shop opens after I leave for office. This left me with the second best option. Cover the book with a newspaper.
Today I reached office with a sheet of TOI. I opened the sheet and thought how I am going to do it. I had heard about Neuro-Linguistic Programming (NLP). It says to make things happen, you need to first imagine them in your mind. I imagined for ten minutes how I was going to cover the book and reached the conclusion that NLP was invented so that people could philosophically procrastinate. I decided to Google how to cover a book but before I could type it in the search bar, I heard a noise behind me.
The noise was made by a colleague who sits behind me. She was putting her scarf, purse and mobile on her desk. I thought it would be below mine and Prof Google’s dignity to search for how to cover a book when help was standing behind me.
I wished her Good morning and shot the question, “Do you know how to cover a book?” She said yes and I asked for help. She took the sheet, told me it was too big and she hardly remembered how to cover a book. Anyway it was not her mom but she who used to put covers on her book and had practiced enough to cover the book I wanted. It was like riding a bicycle. You may have not ridden one for years but once you hit few pedals, you do it as good as it should be.
She gave me the covered book and told that she felt nostalgic for the good old days. I too felt nostalgic for the old days when my mom used to give me freshly covered books with a request of not ruining them. She told me about her school days when she used to put brown cover and then a plastic cover on her books. I was tempted to say I would have been saved of the reprimands and occasional beating if my mom had enough time and energy to do it. I didn’t say so because it could have started a rumor in office that I was an expert in ruining even the nicely covered books and then no one would lend me books.
The colleague told me about her days when she used to sit through boring lectures to make notes. It made me remember of my days when I used to bunk classes to watch movies and pass exams all thanks to the girls who attended boring lectures and made notes. I told her so and she said the same happened with her. Several boys used to borrow her notes. Talk about the more the things change the more they remain the same and you won’t find a better example. At least not me.
The colleague went back to her desk after asking me, “If you don’t how to cover books then how would you have the fun of covering your kids books?” My reply to her was, “If covering books is fun then my wife can have as much fun as she wants.”
To sum up
Most of the people reading my blogs think either I work in the craziest office ever or I make up stories for my blog. None of them is true. The truth is I knew this even before I read it somewhere – Humor makes life worth the effort.
For the last few days I am working on deadlines. Yesterday the VP(Production) told me to meet me in the corridor for an informal chat. For me the office corridor during deadlines is like Big Boss’s confession room. You tell your team leader that management is crazy and the team leader tells you that ,”We don’t have any another option.”
I walked into the corridor and said to the VP, “I hope you are not closing my projects.” The VP replied,” Of course not. In fact we are thinking about extending your deadline.”
I smiled and he continued,” Abhishek, as you know we are facing extreme storage of manpower.” I replied to him ,”Yes Sir” and wanted to add that it is such a shame that the youngsters nowadays are not interested in working for peanuts.
The VP said to me,” Abhishek, as you know we work according to priorities. Since we have certain projects that are more important than yours, we would like to shift you to another project.”
I looked at him and tried to tell him that how come I be the one who is always working on low priority projects. But I couldn’t.
The VP waited for my reply and realized that I was going to give any. Hence, he told me,” We are not closing your projects, we are just delaying them. I want you to work on another project from tomorrow.”
I came to the office today and took necessary instructions from my new team leader. Before starting to work I decided to send an email to the VP stating that the company is facing extreme shortage of manpower and most of the members of my team suffer from fatigue because they are working long hours for the last couple of weeks.
The VP immediately responded to my email and said - Your observation is right. Suggest solution.
I showed the email to a colleague and she told me to tell the VP to go to hell. I don’t think that was the right reply. Why should I must ask him to go to hell when he can experience it in my cubicle.
To sum up
History repeats itself. My life always gets screwed around deadlines.
P.S. - Hey, i got a twitter account. The address is http://twitter.com/cubicile_blues
Few years back I used to wear dirty jeans to look cool. Nowadays I wear dirty jeans because I don't have time to look cool.
Few years back I used to read only the sports section of the newspaper. Nowadays I read only the business section of the newspaper.
Few years back I used to go mall so that I have fun. Nowadays I go to the mall to buy groceries.
Few years back I used go to movies to kill time. Nowadays I don't have time to go to movies.
Few years back I used to get up after every six months praying to God to pass me. Nowadays I get up everyday praying to God for not failing my project.
Few years back I used to think that I would get a job and be happy. Nowadays I am happy to have a job.
Few years back I used to study so that I would become someone. Nowadays I work so that I don't become anyone.
Few years back I wanted to get filthy rich. Nowadays I want to get rich so that I won't be filthy.
Few years back I never used to think about my future. Nowadays I don't think about my future because I don't have any.
To sum up
Few years back I had dreams. Nowadays I have nightmares.
I know you are thinking what I will get by proving that wife of Anthony Gonsalvis is wrong. Actually, I don't have anything against the Anthony Gonsalvis's wife. I hold a grudge against Mrs Gonsalvis who taught me English in the fourth grade.
In the mid-term of my fourth grade, Mrs Gonsalvis asked the class to write an essay. It was not one of the four essays that I had crammed for the exam. With fifteen out of fifty marks at stake, yours truly wrote his first blog. It was a rib-tickling, comical and long enough to fill two pages.
Few days later Mrs Gonsalvis distributed our marked sheets in the class. She didn't call my roll number to collect my answer sheet. I went to her desk and informed her that she had not called my roll number. She asked my roll number and told me go back to my desk.
As I reached my desk, I heard Mrs Gonsalvis reading the first para of my essay. The class was laughing and I smiled at her. She asked me did I considered mid term exams as joke. Before I could answer, she told the class that guys like me are a shame to the good school in which they were studying.
She then proceeded to read my whole essay. After every para, she explained the class my grammatical mistakes and cursed god for sending a disgusting creature like me in her class. As I stood shocked, she threw my answer sheet on the floor and asked me to collect it.
As I collected the sheet, she told me that I was the worst student she ever had. My manners were uncouth and my attitude towards studies was horrible. As I picked my sheet, she told me stop wasting my parents money. I thought that was enough for day but as I sat on my desk she informed the class that my English was poor and it will never improve. She then added that it was ok because I didn't needed much English in my life. After all, how much English does a driver or sabjiwala needs.
Mrs Gonsalvis that day did not killed the blogger in me but she did made me the laughing stock of the class. I changed the school after the final exams but the scars given by her have not yet healed. That day Mrs Gonsalvis ensured that English would remain one of my weak points throughout my life.
Today my team leader told me that I needed to improve my English. He told me that good English was essential to move up in an MNC. He asked me to identify specific areas where I needed to improve my English. I thought about forwarding the link of my blog to him. However, my blogs contain enough grammatical and spelling mistakes that it could have made him wonder why am working with him not as his driver or sabjiwala.
I came back to my seat and thought about the areas in which I needed help. English is a second language for me, I never did any grammar exercise since the fourth grade and it is hard to teach an old dog new tricks. I came home and went through my blogs to make prepare a list of the topics on which I needed help. After reading few blogs, I discovered the biggest flaw in my language. I realised that to improve my English, I needed to stop being funny.
To sum up
I have two choices. I can be funny or I can improve my English. Choosing the second option would prove make the management happy. Hence, I have chosen the first option. I hope you don't mind it.
Today I came to know that a collage was being prepared for one of my colleagues. I didn't knew much about the chap. The reason being he works in marketing and I work in the production. He works on the ground floor and I on the second floor. Our only interaction is during the morning and evening tea breaks on the terrace where we both jam every weekday to whine about the lunacy that drives our organisation.
One of my colleague told me about the desk where the collage was to be given to the new ex-employee. I decided to write something special on the collage. I thought about the various moments we both had shared and realised that I would receive my collage tomorrow if anyone from the management read it.
This brought me to the big question what will be my parting words to my friend. Since I was unable to think of anything that would make him think about the fun we both had without receiving my collage, I decided to google for wishes that one gives during the farewell.
I googled for wishes on resignation and Google returned my query by giving me results on how to draft resignation letter. I changed the words and asked Google for wishes to be given to someone who is quitting. Google returned my query with results on inspiring quotes on not being a quitter.
With Google's failure to provide me with resignation wishes, I decided to write something original on my friends collage. I decided to write something that truly beloved to me and only me. I picked my friend's collage and wrote my signature on it. I knew whenever he would look at the collage, my sign will make smile more than the paras written by those who gave him hell during his tenure.
I saw him during the evening tea break. We both smiled at each other. We both had spent enough time in the organisation to know that this may be the last time we both would be meeting. I thought about acting like an ideal employee by shaking his hand and telling him," Wishing you all the best for the future." However, it would have not gone well with my image. So I hugged him and told ," Congrats."
To sum up
It takes more than six sense to realise that the reason behind the widest smile possible on your colleague's face is that he has quit for greener pastures.
Posted in Work
There are several things I hate. The list starts from eating green vegetable and extends till the songs in the bollywood movies. Of all these things I hate the most is receiving call from my home in office. There is nothing wrong in talking with your parents while you are working. Its just the feeling that they are blackmailing me because they know my childhood secrets that really concerns me.
Hence, when today at 9 pm my dad called me, I was quite skeptical to receive his call. Anyway, it had been a long time since we both had talked and to avoid being blackmailed by my mom, I decided to take up his call.
My dad was ecstatic as soon as he heard my voice. He shouted from the other end," Where the hell are you?" I told him that I was in office and wanted to add that since the connectivity is good, there was no need to shout. But he was my dad and I had first hand opportunity of watching him from close quarters for several years. I had formulated the following axiom after several years of observation - when dad is in a bad mood, tell your mom about the sins you have committed.
He asked me why I had not talked with him or my mom for more than a week. There are moments in life when you want your mobile's battery to discharge so that you can blame the stupid Nokia for saving you from embarrassment. However, I am stupid enough to own a Samsung that I had charged in the morning. This meant there was no way that I could escape the wrath of my dad. The only logical thing was to tell him the truth. So I told him that I was too busy in work and I didn't had time to call them.
His next question was if was working then why I had not called them on Sunday. I told him that I was working on Sunday. He accused me of lying and stated that the office remains closed on Sunday. I explained him the work-from-home provisions in the company's manual and being a workaholic he immediately understood my position. Talk about like father, like son and you won't be able to find a better example.
Anyway, he was my father and hence was not ready to surrender so easily. He asked me, "Do you even remember how many days have passed since we both have talked?" I tried to think about it but being an unofficial work, I was unable to give him the exact number. I decided to give him a ball park figure and told him," May be about a week." He replied like my boss," What do you mean by may be? I am sure its more than a week."
I asked him whether he knew the exact figure and he replied," Its approximately about a week or more. A day here or there." It was now turn to shout but I was in office and he was my dad. Moreover he was mad on me. Considering I was in office and this was my only chance to calm him down, I spoke," Dad this means " Before I could complete my sentence he cut me off by saying," Just call your mom. She is really concerned about you. She still loves you." I wanted to tell him to stop talking like my mom but he was through with his part and like a good boss as he is, had slammed the phone down.
I thought for a while about calling him back but then decided not to because emotional atyachar is a prerogative of my mom. Although today my dad had attacked her territory but as I loyal customer I knew that her product was still quite superior to his.
To experience some real emotional atyachar I called my home as soon as I walked out of the office. The phone kept ringing and no one picked it. I dialled again and still there was no reply. Before dialling for the third time I checked my wristwatch and realised that it was too late to call home. They both had slept and my mobile number had got registered in their caller id. This will ensure that I will get my weekly dose of emotional atyachar tomorrow morning. Until then I will have to sleep with the feeing of being a good employee and a bad son.
To sum up
The rule of evolution says survival of the fittest. The rule of office says survival of the meanest.