Saturday, November 10, 2012

Not this time, Mr Kejriwal



It takes nerve to renounce a steady, sustainable life to champion a cause that has few takers. Arvind Kejriwal's intended fight against corruption in the country is as inspiring as it is fanciful. And sure enough, he has gained due merit for beginning to convert into action what most of us had systematically initiated in the form of armchair philosophy.
But quite like a frail leaf in a lovely bouquet, or a caveat in every appraisal evaluation, or like the odd worm in a KFC burger, some of Kejriwal's invocations to us stick out like a sore thumb. The latest among them being his grand suggestion to all HSBC India employees to quit their jobs in the wake of his money-laundering allegations against the bank.
Seriously, man! Get real. We are talking nearly thirty-seven thousand people here. So when you urge us to sacrifice our jobs for the sake of the nation, surely you have a notion that this nation also takes responsibility for offering us new jobs with the same unlaundered money that has been ensuring the functioning of our ordinary lives? Our ordinary lives, yes - they hinge around our jobs so much that we talk about them wherever we go, from public urinals to social dos. Do we look like we care about the black money we will never get a whiff of, any more than we care about fending for our basics?
Maybe we do, at some level. We feel ashamed and angered at the dismal gaps between the economic layers of our society, and at the thought that these gaps could be bridged were it not for the ill-gotten money by a few whose fancy lives we secretly covet. We are convinced by your intent, but we have our fears about the plausibility of an outcome. Our country is no stranger to corruption, and a menace as deep-seeded won't find a solution through our jobs going on the line. Moreover, we are bothered more by the micro than the macro - the micro being our struggles to keep up with escalating prices, intimidating loans, social pressure as well as our ineptness to deal with uncertainty. We can live a little longer with the macro issue of social biggies stashing away black money to that place we might only visit on discounted Cox & Kings group tours. But we can't live a day without our bread.
We wish to make India a better place too, so we can tell our future generations we weren't mere fence-sitters. Our contribution will be intended at beginning with our own social reformation, followed hopefully by our collective intellectual pool that can bring about a reformation in processes related to compliance and ethical practices in the government and the private sector. Having said this, we are indebted to you for taking up the cudgels against this affliction that has riddled India. We might join you too, once we have stashed some white money in our Indian banks to secure the future of our families.
Until then, please don't grudge us the semblance of stability in our lives. Our choices are often our constraints.

Tuesday, November 06, 2012

'Quick lunch' and other pieces of office fiction


Nakul is in a fix again.
In a stark contrast to the high-stake assignments he is always entrusted with at work - such as noting minutes of lapsed meetings and maintaining trackers for impending meetings - he has now been asked to mentor NRI Rick Shaw, Rutwick Shah in better days, who has just joined his team after a long stint with some firm in the Bahamas (who sets up firms in the Bahamas? Preposterous). Now, besides the implacable blow he was dealt when Rick innocently quoted his obnoxious salary aloud, Nakul is also faced with helping NRI-man getting used to the good ways of the Indian corporate setup. One week down, Rick isn't any less confused about certain things.
Take the manager's introductory email, for instance, which ended with a polite "If you have any questions, feel free to revert to me." Rick felt so free he barraged the poor chap with a volley of questions ranging from their 'unique' business strategy of  inclusive growth to why the office sprinklers didn't use water recycled from the lavatories. The manager resorted to an unscheduled vipassana program and seconded all these questions to his subordinate.
A tad more rational in the matter, the subordinate summoned Rick for a one-on-one chat and asked him to classify his questions in order of priority - P1, P2, and some such. Rick explained his biggest issue was that he hadn't yet gained independent access to the work building. "Oh, that's easy," said the subordinate reassuringly, "Do one thing:" He gave Rick momentary relief with the triviality of his command, before adding, "Do one thing. Write a mail to the admin with your employment details. Then take two passport sized photographs and submit them at the security office. Bring me a copy of a no-objection letter which I shall sign for you. Send the signed copy to the head office in Delhi. That's all."
Understandably on the edge after the rigmarole, Rick was now hoping to get some time with the team to understand lesser crucial details about the project and his role therein. "Right after a quick lunch?" suggested Nakul - a lunch which lasted its usual average of an hour and a half, and ended an entire hour before the team's mandatory afternoon tea break. By the end of the day, Rick was beginning to ask everyone how they calculated their weekly percentage productivity.
"The guy needs to learn to sit back and relax," reckoned Nakul.
"Do one thing," I suggested. "Let him be. Give him time. Lead by example. Whatever that means."