ONE NIGHT (7 page)

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