Thursday 28 April 2016

Twilight of my Life


Creaking bones, cloudy eyes and a heart full of strife 
I am at the twilight of my life. 

Husband, lover and soulmate
Gone to 'everland' leaving me in this state
Countless memories and unfulfilled promises 
Strange bedfellows to spend the night till sun rises
How can you leave your dear loving wife?
and that too at the twilight of her life. 

Sons and grandsons are all busy paving their way
A promotion here, a scholarship there keeps everything at bay. 
Daughter, daughter-in-law also loves me to distraction
Calling once a week, visiting every summer - ensures no friction. 
Off with the old to let the new tune to jive
Don't mind me as I am at the twilight of my life. 

Friends, family and all the riches
Here today, gone tomorrow is what life teaches
Then why do we feel the need to belong?
To live in this 'neverland' like a broken sad song.
My eternal friend, philosopher and guide
Call me to your bossom as I am at the twilight of my life. 

Copyright: Shukla Banik 
First publish date (Facebook):  April 13 2015

Tuesday 19 April 2016

God's Googly



Hi....Welcome to Happy Hour with Shukla Banik. For a long time, I had these insects in my head urging me to create something. I tried my hand in poetry (you can visit Poemish.com/Shukla_b) - amateurish but a try nonetheless. Even when the poetry started flowing, I felt my head is still full with ideas/memories which is clamouring to be expressed in words other than just poetry. So here is a short story called 'Googly'. Googly, in cricketing world, refers to a type of delivery bowled by a right arm-leg spinner. It is a major weapon and is used infrequently, because its effectiveness comes mostly from its surprise value. A crazy-wise man once told me "the moment one feels their life is all mapped out, life throws a least expected googly". This story is all about that "googly" in my life.


This world of ours have all kinds of human species - be it cast, creed, religion, mental ability, physical attributes, etc. etc. But broadly, you can divide them into two very specific groups - winners or losers. I, obviously, used to think I belong to the first category. After all, I have all it takes to be a winner. But, life had something in store for me to rid me of such fancy notion. 


I was twenty-five and unemployed. I have worked in a series of small, inconsequential jobs and was quickly bored with all of them. It was during that time, I landed a job at 'Mentors' (an assumed name, of course), a widely known global engineering firm. In this role, I have to assist the Head of Sales-Asia Pacific region. Job was very satisfactory except for the boss (let's call him Mr. Azhar Shah). Azhar was a Non-Resident Indian. He was from a small village in Uttar Pradesh, India. His father migrated to Australia when he was just 10 years old. He was an average looking middle-aged bachelor with a constant frown on his face. He was a man of few words, a loner and a chain smoker. 


On my very first day, I made friends with two girls who were also working in similar capacity - Teesta and Chhavi. They told me that they used to assist Azhar before my arrival. They helped me in understanding my job role and also gave an insight into all the gory office politics. They told me that Azhar is always grouchy, difficult and nitpicking. He is also a perfectionist and very hard to please. This was vouched by other members of Azhar's (my) team and they wished me luck in my assignment. However, I was confident of making the right impression. After all, I am a winner. I was on probation for six months. My goal was clear - to be a confirmed employee by the end of six months. 


Mentors office timings were 9-6 p.m./Mon-Friday. I used reach office earlier than 9 a.m. There are two reasons for it - 1) I felt it will give me a head-start over others and help me be on top of things 2) To impress the boss. Second one being more important. However, no matter what time I reached office, Azhar was already there. I remember reaching office at odd hours (once at 6.30 a.m.) but guess-what..... yeah, he was already there. 


As if working early was not enough, I started working late as well. My In-tray used to be perpetually full and my 'To-do' list was endless. I was not complaining though. I saw it as an opportunity 1) to prove my mettle/dedication 2) Yes, To impress the boss. It was a BIG mistake. He was a WORKAHOLIC. His idea of home is a place to crash after office and freshen-up for turning up in office again. I kept on working late and he kept on filling my in-tray with more work. Once, I left as late as three in the morning and the weirdo (who was also working) offered to drop me home. The whole journey back home was a soliloquy of Rise and Rise of Mentor/Azhar and how I can be a part of the hall of fame by working equally hard. 


Azhar had a peculiar habit of communicating with little notes. The notes were actually cream-coloured cards with same colour envelope. The top right-hand side corner used to carry his initials AS. He used to specially write in his flawlessly perfect handwriting and hand-deliver it to the recipient. The notes could be for any random thing - good, bad, thank you, sorry. Mostly, it was bad news. So most of us used to joke around that there is a typo in the envelope - it should have been ASS.


I received quite a few of those notes myself. I remember the first time so vividly as if it was just yesterday. I was late in reaching office by five minutes. He was standing next to my computer with a disapproving face. I started apologising but was stopped by the envelope being pushed towards my face. For a second, I was blank. I thought it is some work he is asking me to complete. It took sometime for me to understand that it is addressed to me. He stormed off leaving me shaking like a leaf. Is that it then? What do you call it ... "thank you but no thank you letter"? I had no idea how long I stood there staring at that offending envelope in my hand, dreading what the content will be. Finally, I opened it and started reading "no matter what you did last night, office starts at 9 a.m.". I was so relieved that it is not a sacking letter that I sagged - right down to the cushy carpets in my office, never mind the obvious insult. So, irrespective of what time I left the previous night, I used to be in my office by 9 a.m. the next morning never mind the bleary eyes and heavily constipated stomach. 


There was no official lunch hour at Mentor. There was a huge cafeteria, always stocked with food and beverages. Staff used to visit the cafeteria anytime between 12-3 p.m. for lunch. Most of the staff were young, single and staying alone so home-cooked food was a rarity. We used to grab whatever was the day's special and share it with few fortunate home-cooked food owners. I used to share my lunch hour with Teesta and Chhavi. I say lunch hour but the time spent was no more than 15-20 minutes because of work pressure. Azhar never used to eat with the staff or management for that matter. He used to ask the cafeteria boy to deliver the food at his office. According to him, eating is a waste of time and he is waiting for the day when pills/drug will replace the traditional way of eating food. Yeah!! what a man.

During office parties, while the entire office will be on the dance floor, he will be brooding in a corner nursing a drink or two. He will stand there and go on looking at the rest of the staff accusingly. There is only one person who used to evoke a ghost of a smile in his face - Tanisha Bhat. Tanisha was Head of Marketing at Mentor. To say she is beautiful is an understatement. She was not actually fair. With beautiful expressive eyes, short fashionably cut hairdo and a walk to die for, she was every male 'Mentorites' secret fantasy. According to grapevine, she was a divorcee but nobody can confirm that for sure. Azhar had no choice but to fall for her charms. Everybody was betting at the backroom as to when Azhar will pop the question to Tanisha. 'If' was never in doubt.


Inspite of being grouchy, moody, etc. etc., Azhar was a well-groomed man. He was always formally clothed in blue, black and grey. Hands were always perfectly manicured (though when he used to get the time nobody knew) and shoes were always polished. Expensive watches and flashy (make it downright gaudy) ties were the two items which used to point out that the man, Azhar, may not be as dried-up as we used to think. His handwriting was flawless and beautiful with long drawn-out letters reflecting a passionate heart. 


His only known weakness was that he was suffering from IBS (irritating bowel syndrome). Often, during office hours, he used to head towards one special toilet at the end of the corridor with newspaper and cigarette in hand. Now, why was it a special toilet? This toilet was a single uni-sexual toilet with an open window. Because of centralised air-conditioning, all the windows were sealed except this one. Hence, the cigarette - something to do with the smoke adding to the pressure for smooth bowel movement. And the newspaper - that is what all intellectuals do, I guess, read while taking a crap.


So ladies and gentlemen, this was my life in 'Mentors'. Start early, work late, take as little breaks as possible. I was exhausted, on edge and always irritated. I was slowly turning into a whiny baby. I was on my fifth month and I was no-where near impressing my boss. I realised that Azhar is a perfectionist and it is impossible to reach his standards of perfection. At such a time, a very important project came our way. The project, if granted, was suppose to keep our department floating for next five years. I gave my heart and soul to this project. Be it scheduling the meeting date, booking the best hall in the office, preparing presentation slides, deciding on the lunch menu, I was on top of every little or big details. For one week prior to the schedule meeting, I worked for 20-hours a day, skipping meals, barely sleeping. The hard work finally paid-off. Presentation went on smoothly, clients were happy and we got the project. 


I was elated. Finally, I think I proved that "when the going is tough, tough gets going. I don't know what I was expecting. A pat in the back. Job confirmation. May be a day-off. Certainly not the feared cream-coloured envelope. I thought this time it will be good news and went on to open it "Ordering club-sandwiches for lunch - was it on purpose??". Totally clueless, I showed the note to Teesta and Chhavi. They understood immediately. Club-sandwitch is made with chicken as well as pork. Azhar is a devout Muslim and eating pork is considered 'haram' for them. I had no idea about the pork part being in the sandwitches. So busy was I on the deal that I ordered without thinking. I felt guilty that he remained hungry whole day because of my stupidity but I just could not muster the guts to apologise for my mistake.


By this time, I realised that I am not going to win this job. Not as long as my boss is Azhar. This was my first big break and I needed this job badly. Yet, the writing was already in the wall. Working out the last month of my probation was just a mere formality. So, I decided to let my hair loose and have some fun while it lasted. Meanwhile, I also started looking around for other options. One of the placement agency owner I was acquainted with told me about a job in a financial/banking sector. The catch was it was a start-up and currently a small set-up. The job profile was interesting but I was not sure whether it will be a good idea for me to join a small set-up once again. I reluctantly agreed to meet them during the weekend. 


Next day, something happened which changed everything. It was almost lunch. I was working hard since morning without any break. My bladder was about to go bust. Realising there is not a moment to loose, I rushed to the usual common ladies room. Unfortunately, it was getting cleaned and hence, was locked from inside. The other common room was further down the hall. I was not confident about my bloated bladder. Only toilet left was Azhar's special toilet. I zipped in before anybody else got the idea. After relieving myself, I was splashing water on my face, when the door opened......oooops. I had locked the door but it still opened. Luckily no damage was done and the person with an apology just moved away. I thought of checking the lock. It was not working. Usually, if you lock it from inside nobody can open it from outside. In this case, the lock can be opened from both side. 


Dutifully, I alerted all the ladies in the floor about the lock as well as the admin guys. They assured me that the lock will be changed that very day itself and a sign saying out of order will be dangled outside the toilet. When I came back to my desk, my boss was standing next to my computer with yet another note in his hand. By now, I was immune to his 'love notes'. I opened the note trying to see what I have done wrong this time. I got the shock of my life, the note said "45 minutes loo-break????????????" I felt numb. I felt sick. I felt like screaming at the top of my voice. For a long time I kept staring at my computer without actually seeing it. The words were dancing in front of my eyes. Tears were streaming out refusing to stop. I was thinking how can someone be so obnoxious. One thing was sure - I don't want to work for this boss anymore. I started working on my resume right away. Mentally I started picking out the right dress for the interview. While I was busy wallowing in self pity I saw Azhar going with a newspaper and cigarette packet in hand. Out of pure hatred, I decided to keep quiet about the faulty lock. 


After 10 minutes, a rather red-faced Azhar stormed back to his office. He kept himself closeted in his room throughout that day. His glass door had a sign stating "Do Not Disturb". Next day, he was on leave - reason, he was sick. During lunch time I heard a funny story. According to some eye witness, Azhar was taking a crap in his favourite toilet when Tanisha walked-in by mistake. Azhar was on leave for next three days. When he came back to office, he was at his usual obnoxious best. 


I went for the scheduled job interview. I got the job. They offered a good pay package. Only thing left for me to do was to handover my resignation letter. I was dreading that time. I kept delaying it. Finally I took a deep breath and knocked on his cabin door. He was in his room, eyes on his computer. I gave him the envelope with my resignation letter. His eyebrows shot up. For once, I had him at a disadvantage. "Why" was his only response after reading the letter. I told him about better profile and pay. He kept on looking at me....seconds stretched to minutes. I was ready to keel over in acute nervousness. His stare was too deep and searching as if he can read or hear all the bad words reflecting in head at that time. Before I can admit my mistake and take back the resignation letter, he nodded his head and told me he will inform HR team about it. That was it. Nothing more or less. 


I was a bit disappointed. I don't know why. Was I expecting an apology or a declaration that my going is a loss to the organization. I don't know but his not saying anything hurt me the most. The last day at Mentor came too quickly. Friends had organised a small 'farewell' party at the cafeteria. It was a small affair with couple of very good friends. There was no official party as I was still on probation. There was a cake, few snacks and non-alcoholic beverages. After the customary 'thank you', 'will miss you', 'keep in touch' and 'goodbyes', I went to bid Azhar 'Goodbye'. His office was closed and lights were out indicating he had already left office.


Silently cursing myself for expecting anything better from him, I went back to my work area to collect my things. There, on the top of my things, was a packet and a little note. Surprised, I went for the packet first instead of the note. There was an email inside which was from Azhar to his immediate supervisor dated sometime after the disastrous 'club sandwitch' incident. The mail was a reply to his supervisor and HR mail about my confirmation. The mail said "I (Azhar) am extremely happy with Shukla's dedication and hard work. She is a key link in getting this mega deal for us. I recommend that she should be confirmed as a permanent employee at the end of her term." 


To say, I was shocked, was an understatement. I felt like shit. Hurriedly, I picked up the note and it said, "It has been my pleasure to work with you these past months. You were an outstanding employee. Hope you keep up the good work. Will miss you...Azhar".


There, my friend, is the googly that life belted out to me.


Have a good day!! Hope you enjoyed the write-up.

Copyright: Shukla Banik (19/5/2016)