Tag: technology

Get a life!

I had just begun to read One Hundred Years of Solitude. I had left the book on my table while I rummaged in my bag for something when my colleague (a senior) cast me a look as if I were crazy to read such big a book. (It wasn’t that big, still—)

“Why are you reading stuff like this?” He raised his eyebrows in a scorn, then shook his head continuing, “Read about marketing, about selling, business, and technology. Those are the stuff that’s going to help you in future. These are just useless.” He cast a dirty look at the book I had wrapped in a polyethylene cover to protect its beautiful art.

He wasn’t the only one. About three years later, I had a similar conversation with another senior colleague. This time, it was poetry. I had mentioned reading some new poems when he suggested I read about the latest mobile technology instead. Sure, I laughed, I’ll subscribe to all tech magazines and read them, but poetry is for my personal time. And he smiled in a crude way shrugging, “Well, read this during your personal time.”

To which I replied, “I need a life.”

He just laughed it off, but I felt proud of myself. The first time, I was new at the job and worried about being rude to an experienced person at work. The second time, I was more concerned about myself. I had grown up.

But the fact remains: a lot of my colleagues, friends—even my parents—feel that work has become such a large part of our lives that we have no time for anything else. My married colleagues complain how they can’t bond with their in-laws. Some others worry each day that they leave home for work even before their children wake up. Even the typical 9–5 corporate world now has employees clocking in from 8 to 8 or 8 to 12. And it’s not just for a day, it’s for days together.

In a flurry of product launches and a rush of marketing campaigns, we often forget that home is a place away from office. We spend so much time at work, and all of the little time at home thinking about work. The balance goes to the noose.

It’s sad but it’s reality. We’ve lost so much of our life to work that we seldom realise what we’ve lost. We spend all our days toiling to ensure someone else’s luxury while we skip lunches for meetings, put off a family reunion for an official trip, and stay a little longer than midnight to finish testing the code. And the purpose of it all—an extra shift, a higher bonus.

However, at the end of the day, lying in bed, thinking about the tasks for the following day, we fail to feel the warmth of the blankets, hear the soft—yet evident—creak of the fan or the wind tapping against the windows, and notice the curtains swaying in the breeze. Somehow, while we were busy living to work, we lost the will to live at all.

My colleagues are (un)living examples, and I’m walking on the tightrope. It’s time for a change.

Subject: Your Offer Letter

Message: 

Welcome to the largest conglomerate in the city. You’ll be a part of an exciting team of talented individuals who come together every morning with one major goal: creating world-class products and selling to the world over.

We’re excited that you’ve decided to join these individuals in bringing your skills and unique personality to serve the greater good. We appreciate you and your talent, and as a rewarding gesture, we offer the following work perquisites.

Flexible work hours: We believe that every person has their own schedule and preferences. We respect that. That’s why you can come in and leave at any time you want. What’s more, our office is so comfortable (with couches and bean bags and footrests and sliding drawers) you’d want to come in early, and wouldn’t want to leave.

Recreation: Work while you work, play while you play. That’s our motto — at least it’s one. When a launch drags your workday, you don’t have to risk leaving late. Instead, you can finish it off and spend the night in the office. There’s a sleeping area — separate for men and women.
When you need a break, during the day, you don’t have to get out. Instead, just walk in to the playing area—from tennis and ping pong, to carrom and chess, pick your sport and let the muscles relax. No more healthy gaming in the sun and heading out for unhealthy pizza afterward. Whether you win or lose, we have fresh juice and ice. All inside the campus.

No micro-managing: Our company’s culture is seeded with self-driven teams that organize their own work. No big bosses, no small bosses. No task allocation, no work pressure, no time constraints.

Don’t worry, though. When it’s time for a pay rise, your supervisors will offer what you deserve. We have a successful history of understanding what every employee enjoys doing and letting them do what they want.

We don’t define job roles and responsibilities; everyone’s a marketer and anyone’s a developer, if they’re interested enough.

You may not know where to begin, or how, but it’s our belief that you will learn as you go. And there’s no better way of learning than by doing.

Apart from said perks, you will also enjoy the following:

  • We provide unlimited, wholesome meals three times a day, and snacks throughout the day. It’s free of charge so you don’t have to leave the building and eat unhealthy.
  • You don’t have to stay at your desk to finish up your tasks. When you have a long commute, just avail the free transport to and from the office, equipped with super-fast wifi connection.
  • We love our pets, too. If your cat is ill, you can even work from your couch. We’ll offer free smartphones and sim cards, and reimburse your internet bills. You’ll absorb the latest technology for work and play alike.

We’ve built a workplace and a tradition within our company in such a way that our employees are among the happiest in the world. In fact, [insert the name of a big research company] has named our company as the fifth most desirable place to work in [insert current year].

Glad to have you on board.

Discovery

I hate mobs. They make me nervous. Even as I think about it, my heart bangs in its cage and my legs start to tremble threatening to give way at any moment. And speaking in front of a gathering is awful. Give me a mike and put me under the spotlight, and I’ll be reduced to a slump.

Or, at least, that’s what I thought it would be like.

In school and at work, I’ve had to explain something to a bunch of people. But every time that happens, I freak out so much that my speech loses all sense. And that’s why I was beyond “just nerves” when I heard I’d have to conduct a session in a workshop at my job.
To complicate things, I already knew a bit about my audience: they were all stay-at-home married women. Some had kids, some had more time. Most of them were single- or double-degree holders on a break after marriage. And all of them were at least 10 years older than I. Talk about intimidation.

I needed several deep breaths. And a few gulps — of air.

How would I explain something to them without coming off as a young and insufferable know-it-all? I had so many doubts; people hated contradictions, and a school kid telling older women what to do, isn’t most people’s idea of an ideal workshop. They would’ve expected somone much older-looking, taller, and experienced to conduct an educational workshop.

And yet, when I stood in front of the audience, the glare from the projector almost blinding me, the uncertainty disappeared from my mind. All of a sudden, I was looking at a bunch of people eager to learn; they didn’t care that my head, while I stood, was at their eye while they sat.

Clutching the mike, I, for the first time, felt confident facing a crowd. I was calm. My legs were steady, my heartbeat didn’t sound like a siren, and my pulse wasn’t racing. I began, and I felt myself smiling. I realised how easy it felt. It felt natural talking to these women who wanted to learn and to listen. And then, out of nowhere, I discovered I had matured so much from the shy and cowering schoolgirl I was until a few years ago.

I had grown up at last. And for once, all was well.

When Amazon Pissed Me Off

It’s amazing how much we, as consumers, rely on brand names. I don’t often buy stuff online, and when I do, however, I always choose Amazon. Whether it’s books, clothes, or something bigger like electronic goods, Amazon is my go-to place online.

I have specific reasons, and they’re simple, too. Amazon is the most popular ecommerce site and it’s ubiquitous. Obvious conclusion: you don’t get to do business on such a large scale if you’re not good.

But as it is with consumer behaviour, it’s weird how a tiny glitch could break even a giant as gigantic as Amazon. A couple of weeks ago, I ordered a memory card on Amazon India and was promised delivery about 12-14 days from the date of purchase. It was a long wait, but I didn’t think much about it then because I was positive the estimate date was just an estimate; most orders arrive much before the delivery date. Besides, the day after I placed my order, I got a message saying my order was shipped. Ha, I thought, Amazon is Amazon for a reason, and I had no reason to worry.

Wrong.

After the prompt first message, I got nothing else. The estimated date whizzed by without me receiving my order. I tried tracking my package only to find out that the shipping details on my Amazon account were false. I dug up some trash on the seller, realising that almost all customers of that seller hadn’t received their orders. I tried contacting the seller (twice) and received no response as response.

I grew annoyed. Deciding to give up on Amazon, I ordered from another website, and got my package within two days.

Now I know Amazon has limited control over the sellers on their website, but I still flare up at Amazon. It’s natural human instinct. As a customer, I don’t care what’s going on with the company and a seller they’re hosting, but if you piss me off, I’m ditching your business.

Maybe I judge Amazon too harsh. But again, customers want what they want, and if a business fails so bad, customers won’t be compassionate. I work for an IT company and I understand that I shouldn’t blame it all on Amazon because of one seller’s mishap. But hereafter even before I type Amazon in my browser, I’ll think twice. My impression of the brand is tarnished forever. And that’s a price Amazon has to pay.

Support Unsupportive

If you’ve been on the internet at all, you’ll know too well how hard it is to figure some apps out. We’re always using these apps — blogging tools, photo editors, text editors, proofreaders, budget managers, ebook readers, reminders (my saviour) — you get the point. These aren’t luxury apps either, they’re necessities. That’s why it’s important that these apps are proper. For the most part, my apps are great. They’re pretty straightforward so I don’t have to toil much. Not all products are like that, though. Some products work fine until they don’t anymore. When that happens, I panic.

Because when something isn’t working as it should, I have no choice but to call customer support. I can’t stand the idea of asking for help. Not because I’m an egotistical bastard, but because customer support isn’t supportive at all. You almost never get the feeling that the person sitting on the other side is, in fact, a person. They’re more like robots with western names.

Whenever I write to the customer support team of a product, I get an automated reply. Which is alright, because that’s how they acknowledge mail. But then they reply to my message with another message that makes me wish they hadn’t bothered at all. It’s incredible how support teams treat customers. They scatter words that make no sense and punctuation that makes everything worse. Some emails echo satire — without intention. “Welcome to the world’s best support team,” they say when they’re far from helpful, and not even close to good. Sure, I can tolerate the waiting time, but I can’t tolerate inhuman response.

“Sorry for your troubles. Any inconvenience is regretted.” That’s the most passive aggressive statement anyone can say to another person, let alone someone asking for help. Of course, the inconvenience is regretted, but what are you doing about it, apart from declaring said nonexistent regret?

I can understand, though. Supporting is tough. It’s exhausting to answer the same questions to a bunch of people who refuse to understand. It’s tough playing the educator to people who’re determined to act stupid. It’s stressful to deal with angry customers across the globe — when more than half of them don’t even speak your language.

Nevertheless, at the end of the day, the customer is king — or queen. And that’s why patience is a virtue. That’s why humaneness is a value. In this age when people tweet hate-words to get the attention of a company, it’s just too easy to bring corporations down.

But it’s not about bringing corporations down with the “power of the people.” It’s just plain hurtful to open my inbox and look at a reply that says, “Your patience is appreciated,” when I know that’s not true. I’d rather decode the product for myself, even if I have to read an unhelpful help document. And when it goes beyond me, it’s easier still to give up altogether. Besides, if one product fails, there are a hundred alternatives online.

Ever had trouble with customer support? Sure you have. What did you do?