Hello and welcome to happy hours with Shukla once again. Let me start by thanking everyone who have taken time out of their busy schedule to read the ramblings of an old woman. Your support and encouragement means a lot. So, here is another one - kindly tighten your seat belts and ENJOY the ride!!
This is a sequel to ‘God’s Googly’. I was working with Mentor, an engineering firm, when I got an interview call from a start-up company called Mr. Moneybags (MMB). MMB was the brain-child of Mr. Benjamin Fernandes, who was also its CEO. He had a reputation of turning ideas into profitable business ventures. Interview was fixed for Saturday, 9.30 a.m. at their office. It was a junior-assistant level position for Dy. CEO’s office.
I reached their office with 15 minutes to spare. Reception was just a small ordinary looking desk with one chair for the receptionist and two chairs for visitors. Every inch of that desk (and part of the floor) were filled with courier packets, stationary items, boxes, etc. A rather petite girl with messy-curly hair was sitting cross-legged on the carpeted floor shifting through these items. She was oblivious to either my presence or the constant ringing of the phone. I cleared my throat to grab her attention. When the attempt failed, I said, “Excuse me, my name is Shukla Banik. I am here to meet Shonali”. Still without looking up, she said “You are early. Shonali is not in office yet.” and waved me towards the visitor’s area.
I had developed a huge chip on my shoulder after working with Mentor. My behaviour was no different from an upstart city-slicker visiting a village for the first time. From my perch, the whole floor was visible which looked ordinary and congested. My workstation at Mentor seemed palatial compared to the workstations at MMB. Only remarkable thing in that floor was the spiral staircase. Marble topped-steps with wrought iron railings rising majestically from the deep abyss to higher echelon, somehow stirred my romantic soul.
There was a closed room behind the reception from where a low growling sound was coming intermittently. After sometime employees started trickling in. The MMB’s staff were their biggest marketing strategy. If one needed any motivation to overachieve, then this was it. My starved eyes feasted on the young, hip and drool-worthy crowd. Some were quite interesting and worthy of being tagged. Mr. Monroe - the all-white guy, Ms. Dhinchak - the bright-glittery dress girl, Mr. Fair & Lovely - the peach’n’cream complexion guy, Mr. Show-off - one who spent considerable time outside fixing his flawlessly done hair and clothes, Mr. Shades, Mr. Singer, etc. etc.
Finally the call came for me to go upstairs for the interview. With marble flooring and bigger workstations, this floor was better than the ground floor. I met Shonali/HR and Sumit/ Dy. CEO. They asked me few questions on my current job role, challenges, expectations and reason for job change. Their satisfied expression to my response was proof enough that I have prepared well for the interview. After sometime they asked me to wait at the visitor’s area.
I was relaxing at the visitor’s area confident of bagging the job, when I heard the growling sound again. This time it was more pronounced and clear. From my vantage point, I first saw a head full of salt-n-pepper hair, then an angry handsome face and finally a lithe 6 ft. something body which came springing up the spiral staircase. The owner of the growling sound in flesh and blood. The way he carried himself left me in no doubt that this is THE Mr. Fernandes. I promptly nicknamed him ‘The Lion King”.
He noticed me straight-away inspite of being in deep discussion with a man in red t-shirt. With a piercing stare and a slight stretching of lips, he asked me “Hi, waiting for someone”. His stare paralysed me and his smile (or was it a grimace) sent a chill down my spine. I felt like the deer staring transfixed at the oncoming headlights. “Shhhhonali”, came my croaking response with great difficulty. Nodding he walked off, growling again about poor numbers to Mr. Red.
I had no idea I was holding my breath till the air came out in a sudden rush. I couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding. Well!! I was right in feeling that way. He came back and headed straight to where Sumit and Shonali were in a huddle. What they discussed became apparent when Shonali came to give the usual line “we will call you back”.
I went back to working for Mentor/Azhar. Meanwhile, MMB advertised for the same vacancy in the newspaper, which effectively killed my last hope of getting the job. A month passed in which I often wondered what ticked him off about me. Finally, the god of destiny smiled on me. Shonali called to check if I am still interested. I said “yes”.
My first day at MMB came too quickly. My workstation was allocated at the 1st floor. There were a total of three floors. 1st floor belonged to the white-collared gentry and their minions, ground floor for public dealings and basement for the rest of the support staff. Shonali introduced me to everyone on the floor. Cabins were allocated to the heads of the department. The minions were Brajesh, Vipul, Abhay, Sutirtho, Angel, Shonali and now me. They had a cool way of calling everyone with a shortened version of their name. So, Shukla became Shuks like Braj, Vips, Abs, Sutta, Angie and Shona.
Braj (whom I preferred to call - Brat), was a slim guy with a naughty smile. He was my immediate neighbour. Vips and Abs were in his team. Shonali and Suthirtho were in the same team. Angie was attached to LK’s office. ‘MMB’ians believed in hollering rather than talking over phone or within closed doors. Noise level used to vary from floor to floor but not a single floor can qualify as a silent zone. Yet, noise was not my main concern, Brat (I nicknamed Braj) was.
His was an untidy workstation with papers daily spilling over to my side disrupting my otherwise organized desk. Also, he had a weird habit of jumping out or crashing into his seat whenever he felt excited. His ooh-la-la moments were responsible for quite a few mini quakes at my workstation. But it was the constant flow of filthy words, next to my delicate pink ear, which was driving me nuts. Whether he was glad, mad or sad, someone’s kin (female ones) were always in trouble. I talked about guys swearing in the office to Shonali one day. She looked positively delighted, saying “cool gang, no.” I quickly changed the topic.
Once during a call, in between fits of laughter, he kept cussing for full 10 minutes. Unable to handle it any longer, I walked towards Sumit’s office on the pretext of delivering some packet. He was sitting with one of the support staff from the basement. He seemed extremely agitated so I started retracing my steps. That is when I heard it clearly - words suspiciously similar to the one my neighbour was uttering. I went back to my seat, silently counting to ten.
One week passed very quickly. Monday morning, I walked into the office early and so did LK, after a week’s holiday. I was on full alert expecting an ambush anytime. That week passed very slowly with both of us turning early, greeting each other and then nothing. Yet, I refused to let my guard down.
Gradually, he started asking my help for mundane stuff such as the coffee machine, photocopier or fax machine. Sometimes, he would even ask me to connect him to someone urgently without giving the phone number. I used to dread being noticed by him. All my efforts to merge with the desk, computer or the chair used to fail miserably. In my mind’s eye, it was a ploy to weaken my guard for the final kill. The anticipation of the final slaying kept me on tenterhooks for days. I was not sure which one would be more difficult to handle, the anticipation or the ambush.
If I was tired of LK’s silent psychological game, I was fed-up with Brat’s cussing diarrhoea. During this time, Sutirtho sent a mail to LK and the department heads requesting for a meeting. Everyone turned up except LK, who erroneously went to the branch office. He came back only after receiving a frantic call from Angel. I remember working on some report when I heard the ROAR. A full-throttled roar with filthier-than-filthy cuss words. He was verbally tearing Sutirtho into pieces. Sutirtho tried to explain his side many times but couldn’t get a word in edgewise. Eventually, he calmed down when Angel showed him the mail.
Afterwards, everyone went back to their respective work. Everyone except me and Sutirtho. While Sutirtho was silently licking his wounds, I rushed to the ladies room to splash water on my heated face. Azhar’s note seemed really tame compared to what I just witnessed. I felt truly sorry for Sutirtho. But more than that I felt sorry for the entire mother/sister clan - for being unnecessarily martyred everytime someone was off their rocker. My perception that cussing was just a male phenomena died a natural death, when I heard even girls cussing with equal aplomb. So, I followed the old saying “when in Rome do as Romans do”. But that is another story for another day. Let’s get back to the story of the day.
LK used to take frequent power walks across the office. From lazy supervisor to overworked staff, unclean toilets to unattended visitors - nothing used to escape his notice. Justice used to be metted out in true western style - swiftly and almost always, quiet ruthlessly. His unpredictable and often mercurial nature left everyone gasping for air. Once, an employee started spending a lot of time at office. There used to be mails from his ID at odd hours of the night. Instead of patting his back, LK decreed that everyone should finish their work on time or face power shut-down. He involved the department heads for adherance of the same. Nobody knew why but many joked saying it is to stop employees from spending the night at office due to power cuts at home.
Each day with LK was a revealation of some sort. Once Angel went on a planned one-day leave. She tried to organize outside assistance during her absence but he refused. Next day, he plied me with work leaving me floundering for background details. Left with no choice I kept calling Angel again and again, thus, effectively ruining her day off. Another time, he casually asked for my typing speed. “100 w.p.m.” I replied. “That’s really awful” and off he went.
A tragedy struck my family around this time. The loss was unexpected and we were in mourning for quite sometime. Eventually, I joined back. Somehow, LK got to know about the incident and called me to his office. I was not ready to talk but I lacked the strength to refuse. He understood my reluctance and started talking about other things. Eventually, trying desperately not to breakdown, I told him what happened. At the end, he offered no condolences. Just a squeeze of my limp hand. That’s all. Yet, the gesture was much more than any condolences I ever received. That incident changed my perception of LK.
Soon six months passed and I became a confirmed employee of MMB. Slowly and steadily, my chips were chipping away and my prudish walls were crumbling away. My equation with Brat improved immensely. We started having real conversations minus cuss words. Surprisingly, he was quiet good at it. I started making friends within the office. LK was upto his usual antics. He would compliment my worst dress one moment and next moment pull the rug from under my feet by giving me some work without explaining anything about it. Yet, there was a difference. I was a whole lot less pricklier than before.
The day eventually came when he parted ways with MMB to start a new venture. His farewell party was a grand affair. He danced throughout the night. His eyes were full of pride for the legacy he was leaving behind and sad because, from here on, he walks alone. No, not completely alone - he would always have the love, respect and the best wishes of ‘MMB’ians as his true earning. Many CEOs came after him and went away, but nobody came even close to Mr. Benjamin Fernandes, the legendary Lion King of MMB. God Bless him!!
Bye for now. Hope you enjoyed the story.
Copyright: Shukla Banik
This is a sequel to ‘God’s Googly’. I was working with Mentor, an engineering firm, when I got an interview call from a start-up company called Mr. Moneybags (MMB). MMB was the brain-child of Mr. Benjamin Fernandes, who was also its CEO. He had a reputation of turning ideas into profitable business ventures. Interview was fixed for Saturday, 9.30 a.m. at their office. It was a junior-assistant level position for Dy. CEO’s office.
I reached their office with 15 minutes to spare. Reception was just a small ordinary looking desk with one chair for the receptionist and two chairs for visitors. Every inch of that desk (and part of the floor) were filled with courier packets, stationary items, boxes, etc. A rather petite girl with messy-curly hair was sitting cross-legged on the carpeted floor shifting through these items. She was oblivious to either my presence or the constant ringing of the phone. I cleared my throat to grab her attention. When the attempt failed, I said, “Excuse me, my name is Shukla Banik. I am here to meet Shonali”. Still without looking up, she said “You are early. Shonali is not in office yet.” and waved me towards the visitor’s area.
I had developed a huge chip on my shoulder after working with Mentor. My behaviour was no different from an upstart city-slicker visiting a village for the first time. From my perch, the whole floor was visible which looked ordinary and congested. My workstation at Mentor seemed palatial compared to the workstations at MMB. Only remarkable thing in that floor was the spiral staircase. Marble topped-steps with wrought iron railings rising majestically from the deep abyss to higher echelon, somehow stirred my romantic soul.
There was a closed room behind the reception from where a low growling sound was coming intermittently. After sometime employees started trickling in. The MMB’s staff were their biggest marketing strategy. If one needed any motivation to overachieve, then this was it. My starved eyes feasted on the young, hip and drool-worthy crowd. Some were quite interesting and worthy of being tagged. Mr. Monroe - the all-white guy, Ms. Dhinchak - the bright-glittery dress girl, Mr. Fair & Lovely - the peach’n’cream complexion guy, Mr. Show-off - one who spent considerable time outside fixing his flawlessly done hair and clothes, Mr. Shades, Mr. Singer, etc. etc.
Finally the call came for me to go upstairs for the interview. With marble flooring and bigger workstations, this floor was better than the ground floor. I met Shonali/HR and Sumit/ Dy. CEO. They asked me few questions on my current job role, challenges, expectations and reason for job change. Their satisfied expression to my response was proof enough that I have prepared well for the interview. After sometime they asked me to wait at the visitor’s area.
I was relaxing at the visitor’s area confident of bagging the job, when I heard the growling sound again. This time it was more pronounced and clear. From my vantage point, I first saw a head full of salt-n-pepper hair, then an angry handsome face and finally a lithe 6 ft. something body which came springing up the spiral staircase. The owner of the growling sound in flesh and blood. The way he carried himself left me in no doubt that this is THE Mr. Fernandes. I promptly nicknamed him ‘The Lion King”.
He noticed me straight-away inspite of being in deep discussion with a man in red t-shirt. With a piercing stare and a slight stretching of lips, he asked me “Hi, waiting for someone”. His stare paralysed me and his smile (or was it a grimace) sent a chill down my spine. I felt like the deer staring transfixed at the oncoming headlights. “Shhhhonali”, came my croaking response with great difficulty. Nodding he walked off, growling again about poor numbers to Mr. Red.
I had no idea I was holding my breath till the air came out in a sudden rush. I couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding. Well!! I was right in feeling that way. He came back and headed straight to where Sumit and Shonali were in a huddle. What they discussed became apparent when Shonali came to give the usual line “we will call you back”.
I went back to working for Mentor/Azhar. Meanwhile, MMB advertised for the same vacancy in the newspaper, which effectively killed my last hope of getting the job. A month passed in which I often wondered what ticked him off about me. Finally, the god of destiny smiled on me. Shonali called to check if I am still interested. I said “yes”.
My first day at MMB came too quickly. My workstation was allocated at the 1st floor. There were a total of three floors. 1st floor belonged to the white-collared gentry and their minions, ground floor for public dealings and basement for the rest of the support staff. Shonali introduced me to everyone on the floor. Cabins were allocated to the heads of the department. The minions were Brajesh, Vipul, Abhay, Sutirtho, Angel, Shonali and now me. They had a cool way of calling everyone with a shortened version of their name. So, Shukla became Shuks like Braj, Vips, Abs, Sutta, Angie and Shona.
Braj (whom I preferred to call - Brat), was a slim guy with a naughty smile. He was my immediate neighbour. Vips and Abs were in his team. Shonali and Suthirtho were in the same team. Angie was attached to LK’s office. ‘MMB’ians believed in hollering rather than talking over phone or within closed doors. Noise level used to vary from floor to floor but not a single floor can qualify as a silent zone. Yet, noise was not my main concern, Brat (I nicknamed Braj) was.
His was an untidy workstation with papers daily spilling over to my side disrupting my otherwise organized desk. Also, he had a weird habit of jumping out or crashing into his seat whenever he felt excited. His ooh-la-la moments were responsible for quite a few mini quakes at my workstation. But it was the constant flow of filthy words, next to my delicate pink ear, which was driving me nuts. Whether he was glad, mad or sad, someone’s kin (female ones) were always in trouble. I talked about guys swearing in the office to Shonali one day. She looked positively delighted, saying “cool gang, no.” I quickly changed the topic.
Once during a call, in between fits of laughter, he kept cussing for full 10 minutes. Unable to handle it any longer, I walked towards Sumit’s office on the pretext of delivering some packet. He was sitting with one of the support staff from the basement. He seemed extremely agitated so I started retracing my steps. That is when I heard it clearly - words suspiciously similar to the one my neighbour was uttering. I went back to my seat, silently counting to ten.
One week passed very quickly. Monday morning, I walked into the office early and so did LK, after a week’s holiday. I was on full alert expecting an ambush anytime. That week passed very slowly with both of us turning early, greeting each other and then nothing. Yet, I refused to let my guard down.
Gradually, he started asking my help for mundane stuff such as the coffee machine, photocopier or fax machine. Sometimes, he would even ask me to connect him to someone urgently without giving the phone number. I used to dread being noticed by him. All my efforts to merge with the desk, computer or the chair used to fail miserably. In my mind’s eye, it was a ploy to weaken my guard for the final kill. The anticipation of the final slaying kept me on tenterhooks for days. I was not sure which one would be more difficult to handle, the anticipation or the ambush.
If I was tired of LK’s silent psychological game, I was fed-up with Brat’s cussing diarrhoea. During this time, Sutirtho sent a mail to LK and the department heads requesting for a meeting. Everyone turned up except LK, who erroneously went to the branch office. He came back only after receiving a frantic call from Angel. I remember working on some report when I heard the ROAR. A full-throttled roar with filthier-than-filthy cuss words. He was verbally tearing Sutirtho into pieces. Sutirtho tried to explain his side many times but couldn’t get a word in edgewise. Eventually, he calmed down when Angel showed him the mail.
Afterwards, everyone went back to their respective work. Everyone except me and Sutirtho. While Sutirtho was silently licking his wounds, I rushed to the ladies room to splash water on my heated face. Azhar’s note seemed really tame compared to what I just witnessed. I felt truly sorry for Sutirtho. But more than that I felt sorry for the entire mother/sister clan - for being unnecessarily martyred everytime someone was off their rocker. My perception that cussing was just a male phenomena died a natural death, when I heard even girls cussing with equal aplomb. So, I followed the old saying “when in Rome do as Romans do”. But that is another story for another day. Let’s get back to the story of the day.
LK used to take frequent power walks across the office. From lazy supervisor to overworked staff, unclean toilets to unattended visitors - nothing used to escape his notice. Justice used to be metted out in true western style - swiftly and almost always, quiet ruthlessly. His unpredictable and often mercurial nature left everyone gasping for air. Once, an employee started spending a lot of time at office. There used to be mails from his ID at odd hours of the night. Instead of patting his back, LK decreed that everyone should finish their work on time or face power shut-down. He involved the department heads for adherance of the same. Nobody knew why but many joked saying it is to stop employees from spending the night at office due to power cuts at home.
Each day with LK was a revealation of some sort. Once Angel went on a planned one-day leave. She tried to organize outside assistance during her absence but he refused. Next day, he plied me with work leaving me floundering for background details. Left with no choice I kept calling Angel again and again, thus, effectively ruining her day off. Another time, he casually asked for my typing speed. “100 w.p.m.” I replied. “That’s really awful” and off he went.
A tragedy struck my family around this time. The loss was unexpected and we were in mourning for quite sometime. Eventually, I joined back. Somehow, LK got to know about the incident and called me to his office. I was not ready to talk but I lacked the strength to refuse. He understood my reluctance and started talking about other things. Eventually, trying desperately not to breakdown, I told him what happened. At the end, he offered no condolences. Just a squeeze of my limp hand. That’s all. Yet, the gesture was much more than any condolences I ever received. That incident changed my perception of LK.
Soon six months passed and I became a confirmed employee of MMB. Slowly and steadily, my chips were chipping away and my prudish walls were crumbling away. My equation with Brat improved immensely. We started having real conversations minus cuss words. Surprisingly, he was quiet good at it. I started making friends within the office. LK was upto his usual antics. He would compliment my worst dress one moment and next moment pull the rug from under my feet by giving me some work without explaining anything about it. Yet, there was a difference. I was a whole lot less pricklier than before.
The day eventually came when he parted ways with MMB to start a new venture. His farewell party was a grand affair. He danced throughout the night. His eyes were full of pride for the legacy he was leaving behind and sad because, from here on, he walks alone. No, not completely alone - he would always have the love, respect and the best wishes of ‘MMB’ians as his true earning. Many CEOs came after him and went away, but nobody came even close to Mr. Benjamin Fernandes, the legendary Lion King of MMB. God Bless him!!
Bye for now. Hope you enjoyed the story.
Copyright: Shukla Banik
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