Tag: office

Ebbing away

I woke up Sunday morning to a text message from my airlines. Online check-in had opened. It had arrived at four in the morning, 48 hours before my scheduled departure. And yet when I saw it, I felt nothing. I wasn’t thrilled, as I should’ve been. I no longer felt like jumping up and down.

I felt indifferent, instead, and even a little scared.

That sensation unnerved me. I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t more happy about the one thing I had been looking forward to for the past two months. It was as if an unknown shroud hung over my face, shielding me from the joy I deserved.

Perhaps it was because I hadn’t packed yet, I thought. People often said how planning their trip increased their anticipation. And so I packed. I had already done a trial packing to assess my baggage limits so the actual packing didn’t take much time or effort.

Looking down at my bag, loaded and ready to fly, I still didn’t feel any different. The excitement of the last few days had ebbed away as water through my palms, leaving in its place just blotches on vacant places. All of sudden, this trip seemed longer than I had ever dreamed of. I gulped. So many new things to encounter—maybe a tad too many. From weather and food, to people and road ways, I’d face unfamiliarity in abundance and in quick succession. As good as it is for my inner being, I began to doubt if I could handle it well enough.

My roommates had gone away for the weekend, and so I was in my room alone looking through the window as the monsoon rains lashed against helpless weeds.

Had I gotten cold feet? I didn’t know that was possible.

Although this is my first major trip, it isn’t my first time travelling. And it isn’t my first time putting myself out there for new experiences. I love visiting unknown places, and would often picture myself hiking along scenic routes with a backpack on my shoulders and a dreamy look on my face.

What, then, was I so scared about—I didn’t know.

Sitting down, I tried to figure it out. When I asked myself what I felt, I answered: Anxious that I wouldn’t enjoy myself. At the same time, I worried that worrying about the trip would, in fact, lead to its downfall — a self-fulfilling prophesy of sorts. It seemed far-fetched, yes. But the nagging voice in my head wouldn’t go away.

My train of thoughts grew unsure. Sober though I was, I felt intoxicated as I stared at the list of Friends episodes I’d been watching. Friends made me feel a little better, but they didn’t solve my confusion. At that moment, I received a message from a colleague who’d travel with me: “check in opened”. Ah, this is a business trip after all.

“Saw.” I wrote back to her. And realising it’d seem rude to end it that way, I followed up with, “Let’s do it tomorrow?” She replied in the affirmative and I looked away from my phone. It was too distressing.

*Ping*

Her again. “I’m working on my presentation. Are you done yet?”

Huh?

Oh, I remembered. While being busy planning the fun part of the trip, I had forgotten the work part. My heart had been ruling all along, but my brain had woken up at last.
I’d be presenting in front of a gathering, and my mind reminded me I hadn’t prepared for it. We still had time, though, as my heart assured me—but practise always helps, argued the mind. All of a sudden, the cloud over my mind cleared. So that’s why I’d felt like a loser. I slapped my forehead. Sitting alone at home, I had let my thoughts wander way too much. It wasn’t the travelling that worried me. Instead, it was the business of the travel that had me worried.

Phew, I thought opening my presentation determined to finish it. One day to go. And some of the excitement crept back in.

A good deed

“According to the survey, most of our nation’s population lives in substandard conditions. The home minister suggests outsourcing development efforts.” The reporter drew a breath, and Meera exhaled.

“Oh, these poor people,” she sighed, turning to her husband. Flipping through documents, he nodded without looking up. “Yeah…” he drifted off—construction business was taxing.

“Let’s do something about this.” Meera faced him, hands on her hips.
Prem looked at her, bemused. “Huh?”

“Try to get that government contract. This is our chance to do good to the country.”

Or, he calculated, to experiment the cheap material his friend had suggested.

Inevitable change

“You know I’m right, Beth. This is the only we earn. We won’t survive otherwise. Look around.”

Bethany did. One by one, cubicles emptied every day. Her colleagues were leaving either by choice or by force. It didn’t matter how they left; they left because they had nothing left to do at work.

The Beacon had been glorious once. People woke up excited to read what they had to say about the world. Their opinions were legend, and guest columns envied.

That was before emagazines.

“It’s fine to tailor the facts. That’s what media does.” Mark convinced lead editor, Beth.

Ask—you might get it

Some of my colleagues think I’m brave when I told my boss upfront that I needed a few days off of work for personal reasons. There’s nothing courageous about what I did. I just asked for my right as an employee, as an individual. To my new colleagues, however, it seemed unnatural —though in a good way. Not only did I impress them but I’ve also inspired them to an extent.

These colleagues I refer to aren’t long-term experienced folks. They’re the latest batch of graduates, fresh out of college their parents paid for, just learning to live on their own for the first time.

Rachel Green

To them, it’s a big deal that I can walk up to my manager and speak my mind without offending him or sparking vengeance. The first time this happened, they sent me a chat message declaring how impressive I had been speaking up the way I had done. I couldn’t help the laughter in my head.

Almost four years ago, I was in the same place they now are. I was so terrified about speaking to my then-manager that I’d avoid eye contact on purpose. If I see him chatting with someone else anywhere near my place, I’d take a long detour from the vending machine just so I could avoid him. I’d crouch low on my seat risking a lifetime of backache and soreness so that he doesn’t see me. Apart from the fact that he’s 20 years older than I am, he’s just a normal guy. I needn’t have worried one bit about what he thought of me or what he’d say about my preferences.

Now, however, I don’t care. I am more assertive of my opinions. But I’m also aware of the implications — I’ve learned to grow in such a way that I can now voice my thoughts without hurting anyone or my stance in the team. I’ve at last learnt to navigate the corporate world without hitting too many pillars.

Musing on how my current behaviour appears to new interns and team members, I realised that this change swept over me only about a year ago. I sat at work like on any other day, staring into my laptop like everyone else. All of a sudden, a conversation ruffled in my team, and a few moments later, I realised that my manager (not the same as four years ago) and a team mate were discussing attending a conference for which we had received free sponsorship passes.

Our manager revealed that he didn’t want to go. He sounded casual about it, too. He’s more dedicated than anyone else I know, but he doesn’t flaunt it where it’s not necessary.
I wanted to go, instead. I had heard of that event before and had wished I could visit. And here I had a chance, but I let it slip away because I was too scared to ask.

If I had asked, I could’ve gone. My manager would’ve agreed in an instant. And I know I would’ve enjoyed that conference. That’s when I learnt my lesson. It always hurts more not to ask and regret than to ask upfront. They may say no, sure, but what if they don’t say no?

Now I’m more vocal about my opinions. Most of my team has counter opinions and we’ll debate it out. But at the end of the day, we’ll leave happy that we’ve conveyed our thoughts. The more I voiced my requests and opinions, the more I realised that my team and manager prefer it. We now encourage open conversations, regardless of which party ends stronger.

That’s the essence of good work culture. Knowing that I can speak up, share a coffee break with the boss and still have a genuine interaction is what makes me want to wake up every morning, looking forward to work.