Ctrl+Alt+Del : Routine Day 1

The crooning of Shakira was the last I was expecting to wake me up from my slumber. As I lazily peeked at my wrist watch, I realized it was past noon. After a little bit of Macarena, I was able to locate my cell. But I guess the phone was ringing for a bit too long and by the time I could grab, it had stopped vibrating.

“1 missed call” the screen blared.

A series of key strokes and I realized it was my friend from Goa who had been trying to reach me. Still lazing on the bed and half asleep I called him back.

“Hey dude! Good morning!” I greeted in my usual sleepish manner.

“Good morning???” he roared back. “Dude, its past noon man. Why didn’t you pick my call bugger?” Probably my usual sleepish tone had fooled him and he was yet to come to terms to the fact that am yet to recover from my slumber.

“Ha ha!” I replied with an all fake laugh.

And just then he seemed to be struck with bolt from the blue.

“Man! Don’t tell me you are yet to wake up man. Arrey, it’s not a weekend. You gotto be in the office by now. How can you be this way dude?”

He wasn’t wrong, for that it wasn’t a weekend, neither it was a holiday nor was it that I had taken a off. But that was just me. One amongst the zillions of software engineer doting the landscape of this cyber-city named “Bangalore” oops “Bengaluru”. Not that all of software techies a.k.a softies were privileged but I was definitely one amongst those select few. My friend at the other of the call was a software engineer too, but unfortunately for him he belonged to the lesser privileged lot amongst us.

“Bastard, how can you be so lucky yaar? I am here on top of my work slogging my ass out and there you are still dozing off your life. You make me go green of envy man”. He grumbled and I knew for every reason he meant what he said. For this was not the only time he has said this to me. There are occasions far too many where he has found me in an enviable situation.

AJ, or Ajay as his parents would have liked the world to call him, was my buddy since junior college. Both of us were pretty decent at studies and excelled to get admission in engineering colleges. He chose to stay back in Goa as I got myself into an REC. But as fate would have it both of us found ourselves at the gates of the mystical IT world on passing out from colleges.

“Asshole, I made it!” the words still echo in my ears. That was AJ informing about he getting selected in one of the tier 2 IT firm that had visited his college for campus recruitment.

The serious chap at studies that he was I wasn’t surprised that he was amongst the first one to get recruited. However, I had advised him to withhold himself and try for some MNC. But his risk averting nature meant he would prefer job security over an advice for his still unemployed friend. In fact I happened to be the last one from my batch to get placed in campus recruitment. Sometimes make me wonder whether I was picked just because they felt pity on me being the only one left.

Our joy of the elusive Techie job was short-lived, much earlier for AJ. And since then our phone talks had only topic ‘How to get out of this mess?’. We have been probing the answer to this for years now, and it still eluded us.

“I am a sick of this yaar. I want to get out of this” AJ grumbled at the other end of the call. This wasn’t new for this was the umpteen times I heard him saying these. Frankly I wasn’t bored of hearing it. Only thing I feared that soon my brain might soon stop processing his words.

“Hey, I shall hang up for now. Shall give you a call in the evening. Some work popped up.” AJ said in a hush hush manner. “chal, see you. Bye”

He has already slammed his phone before I could bid him good-bye. I guessed it wasn’t some work that had popped up but probably it was his manager who had. AJ had mentioned the work environment and about his seagull manager the last time we had met. And if he was to be believed, and I have every reason to believe him, he needed to break out of the shackles much more than I did.

“Bugger screwed my sleep” I cursed him yawning still and slid into the mattress once again. And before I could realize I had dozed off again.

Shakira came calling again and I had to wake up and reach for the cell–phone, which thankfully was at arm’s length this time. It was Shakti calling.

Shakti was my colleague at office and was known more for being a nerd. He was most sought after resource for his dedication, the problem-solver for all the female folks when they could not get their way through across some coding hell. For me he was a ‘fag friend’ and at times my schedule manager. And this time he was latter.

“Obe, Where are you? Don’t you remember we got a meeting today?” said Shakti before I could even greet him.

“Ohh, good that you reminded me. Thanks pal” I said just to make him happy. “I shall be there in 5 maggies”. Though I knew I would not be incarnating in the office anytime before 15 maggies.

For the ignorant lot, maggies was a just yet another lingo amongst the techie. As with any other lingo, this word too was devised to project an aura of sophistication. Maggie simply denoted a unit of time and any KG going toddler would guess 1 Maggie= 2 minutes.

“Chao” I greeted him goodbye and hung the phone.

Now that I had woken up, I thought of showing up for the meeting. Not that the meeting would have not happened without me or now with me attending it would be any different. Such meetings have become a run of the mill affair and just act as a time hogging device. A typical set-up would be a senior project manager aimlessly talking some crape which none of the folk seem to understand. Sometimes he draws some shapes on the whiteboard which act to further confuse the alpha geeks who dedicatedly attend all these by the dozen.

I hurriedly rushed through my routines, be aware a bath doesn’t figure in a software engineer’s daily activity and is a strictly weekly activity. Grabbed hold of a T-shirt which read “IT sucks” and slid myself into it. Slammed the door of my apartment and was ready to head straight to office only to realise I had forgotten the ID cum access card. I hated this neck strap so much, as it made me feel like an obnoxious dog but unlike the canine who might refuse to wear the same, I had no option. So hurriedly went into my room, grabbed hold of it and rushed back. Slamming the door hard so as to let the rest of the folks on the floor feel a mini-earthquake, I locked the door and skilfully slid the keys beneath the door mattress. I had made it sure that no one was watching me do that, having known that the key to every second apartment could be located under their respective mattress.

I ran for the elevator door and hit a call button to summon the elusive elevator to my floor. Today was no different. Guess somebody had left the door open and the display refused to change. Sensing it would take eternity, I hatefully took the stairs, though all I had to climb down was some four odd floors. Just I was climbing down the stairs; the elevator zoomed past me supposedly laughing at me.

At the society gate, I nodded the salute from the watchmen with a wink. A typical nepali Sherpa, he doubled as our bike washer at times. A few currency notes that I tucked in his shirt, sometimes the excess pizzas ordered that we donated to him or the occasional fag that we shared, all these gestures made him feel that I am an incarnation of the “pahaadi devta” whose photo decorated the walls of his cramped cabin.

“Kya shaab, aaj jaldi?” he enquired in his typical mountain dialect. I shamelessly smile back and he got his answer.

My office wasn’t much far from my apartments. A brisk walk meant I would find myself at the gates of office in 5 minutes. But brisk wasn’t a word in my dictionary and the lazy person I was, my stroll to the office cost me some 10 minutes. Only time I had toiled hard was when I was on look-out for a new apartment, and had seen been spending a grand extra than similarly furnished apartments in some other locality. After all a thousand bucks was the price I had to pay for the extra hours of sleep I can enjoy thanks to the proximity to the office, and I believe it was actually a very good deal.

Walking past the “Jaggu’s chai ki tapri” I soon found myself at the gates of the office. The security guard at the door glanced at the neck strap as I walked through the metal-detector. Just like any other day, this time too the metal detector blared at its peak; and just like any other day the security ignored it and let me through without whisking. It makes me wonder, they would really get suspicious of me the day the detector doesn’t raise an alarm. I decided to try it out once at a later date and see what their reaction might be.

As I walked by the plush Italian furnished reception counter, I saw Rosy sitting on the other side of the counter. She was busy on the phone and was cheerfully attending to the person at the other end with a smile which stretched from ear to ear of her broad face.

I confess Rosy does figure pretty high on the few factors motivating me to come to office. Her hour glass frame and body fitting attire, her make-up and the hairdo, all made her an ideal candidate for being an Kingfisher airhostess.

As I was making my way towards the elevator still staring at her, she raised her head. As our eyes meet, she must have surely caught me red-handed ogling at her. But I wasn’t an exception and by now she probably was used to such glances.

“Hi!” she said with a very wide smile.

It took me a few microseconds to recollect my conscience as I replied with a “Hello”.

I knew for sure that she didn’t know me by name for I wasn’t any Brad Pitt of our office; but it wasn’t any less a feat that she could recollect my face amongst the zillions who walked past her each day. For once I felt worth of all the hours I had wasted in the cube-farm at the office.

Getting greeted by Rosy was one of the better things to happen in the otherwise mundane day, more so when it happens right at the start of the day. It had even been a topic of conversation amongst our peer group.

“Know what? Rosy greeted me in the morning.” Was many times a topic of discussion for us coterie of friends and at times had even been a reason for a pizza treat. I prayed within hoping that it’s not me to be butchered at the dominoes joint today. Somewhere deep within I decided not to reveal about it to the friends, but I knew it was easier said than done and this won’t just remain to me.

“Hey, Stop!” I screamed as I saw the door of the elevator getting shut. It was already exceeding its capacity, but a friendly soul held the door as I came running to get it.

“Thanks” I said with a smile as I squeezed myself inside with another 6 souls in an elevator meant for 5. But the social animals we were, and starting each day with the hustle bustle in the local bus, this was still a very comfortable ride.

A ride onto the seventh floor with a few stops in between and many people swaps was an instant one. I thank Mr. Otis for his visionary idea. Had he not invented this wonderful invention of elevator the building would have never grown taller and the term sky scraper would have never existed in the oxford dictionary.

A couple of access card flash and I had entered the enormous cube-farm. By now, it was already hustling bustling with hordes of techies banging their keyboards and some others busy on the phone. If you are lucky enough you would even find a few multi-tasking on the phone keyboard combo.

Almost involuntarily I traced my path to my desk.

As I entered I saw Shakti wasn’t at his seat. It was a sign that he had gone for the meeting for which I was already late. Glazing in a crape meeting wasn’t as big an offence as walking in late. So conveniently I chose to stay put at my desk.

“Hi Jack” I greeted my other cube-mate as I rested in my seat.

“Hi. Early today?” prompt was the reply.

Jack was a couple of years senior to me in the office and was a serious fellow by nature. I usually didn’t deal with him, but ever since he was moved to my cubicle I have been restricting our contact to the pleasantries et al.

“Yeah” I said shamelessly as I bent to power up my machine.

Suhani completed the quartet in my cubicle. She was a fresh graduate and had recently joined our company. She was a quiet girl otherwise, but spent most of her time giggling on her cell. Like any other day today too she seemed to have moved to the lobby to chit chat on her cell phone.

Like any typical day I started my day with the checking for new mails.

“14 unread mails” a pop-up appeared. I glanced through them and didn’t find any worth pondering at that point. Most of them were forwards and others were Sys-Admin mailers. I conveniently decided to ignore them all.

Just then Stacy appeared at the cubicle.

“Jack, hasn’t Shakti come to office today?” she questioned.

“I guess he is in. Must be in some meeting”

“Oh, fine” she replied looking at the frosted glass wall of the meeting room.

Stacy was the bombshell and she raised the average fashion quotient of our wing thanks to her dressing style. Though anorexic, her makeup compensated for her underweight body.

“I ll ping him on gtalk” she said to Iqbal as she made her way back to her den.

“This nerdy bugger too has chicks come to him!” Jack uttered almost semiconsciously.

“Uhh?” I queried as if I didn’t hear him.

“No, No. Nothing” he tried to cover up his gaffe.

But he didn’t realise he wasn’t inaudible. And for that matter he wasn’t wrong either. Our cubicle was frequented by almost all those present on the floor, thanks to the geek in Shakti. In fact I wondered Shakti did work equivalent to at least 5 resources. Not that he didn’t realise it, but he somehow involuntarily succumb to the femme fatale. One can’t blame him because there was no other trait in him that who attract any girl next door towards him. Those bell bottoms, those hawaaiin shirts and those thick framed glasses; he epitomised the legendary actors of the sixties. The only thing that differentiated him for those marvels of yesteryear was his latest possession, the steel braces which sparkled more than his teeth. However he was an ace at programming. Fully dedicated that he was, it was a matter of minutes before he could come up with a solution for any issues. Spend a few minutes sitting by his side and the code would just appear on the screen. He was the alpha geek amongst us.

I got back to my PC as I still sniffed the aura Stacy had left behind. I involuntarily logged into the messenger in the taskbar. The messenger had been acting as oxygen for me for the time I spent in office. I scrolled through the long list to pin down anyone who would be interesting  and yet interested in chatting. There seem to be no greenhorns whom I felt like pinging. There were other redheads ;) and as always outnumbered the greenhorns. Greenhorns and Redheads was a collective noun for people “available” or “busy/ in a meeting/ DND” on the messenger. Actually setting the status to busy was just a gimmick that each one played trying to fool his superior, oblivious of the fact that s/he is inturn using the same thing.

Infact reading through the status messages of all my buddies on gtalk has been a regular activity for me. It truely indicated the state of mind of most, though there were the occasional few who must have forgotten the “how to” of changing the status.

For there was this colleague of mine whom I had first met at the training centre in Mysore who had this status message for say last 3-4 months. It read “Life is a Beer, Enjoy it”. I was damn pissed of reading it, but guess he was still under the hangover. At times I felt like going to his desk and empty an entire jug of chilled beer on this head, but the thought of walking one floor down was just a too much an ask for the pleasure I would have sought. 

Just then Shakti dropped in.

Shakti was unusually skinny guy and had been a butt of our jokes thanks to his appearance. Although having had a bon apetite, god wasn’t kind enough to transform those carb intakes into flesh. And a self inflicted and awful dressing sense made him look even worse. It wasn’t surprising that he had got himself the name “hanger”. Those oversized formal shirts usually made him look like a scare-crow amongst us. In fact he looked even worse when initially he came with a neck tie on; looked liked he was on a suicide mission and going to get himself hung up. Somehow we coaxed him into getting rid of those fancy neck ties. I remember Stacy had come handy in our mission then, but even she failed in convincing him slip into something more casual. For Shakti believed, it was against company policy and workplace etiquettes to come in anything other than full formal.

“How could you still be late for such critical meeting” Shakti groaned.

As you would find nine out of the ten times, he had the grim expression on his face. I stay unperturbed by his question.

“Milind, I am seriously worried yaar.” Shakti mumbled as he got himself seated.

His words made me seriously take notice. Not because he said he was worried but involuntarily he had called me by my name. He had a penchant of not calling others with their names. He always referred us guys as ‘dude’.

“What the matter?” I enquired sympathetically.

“I am scared of being laid off”

“Com’on!” I sighed as I reclined back into my seat. “Give me a break. You’ ll be the last person to be laid off man”

I meant every word of it. For if we were to be laid off, then surely Shakti would have been the last person to be done away with. Which company would like to part ways with a highly talented and evenly hard working geek. There wasn’t a single instance in my association with him spanning just over 2 years that he had given our superiors a chance to complain. The timid fellow that he was, he didnt even utter a word when he was awarded the rightful promotion during previous appraisal cycle.

“No man, Sir said ‘due to current economic slowdown and impending recession the company would consider all sorts of cost cutting steps including staff rationalization’” he said with a frown on his face.

Mr. Pradyumn Malwadgaonkar (“Sir” for Shakti) a.k.a PM (thanks to his tongue twister name) was our Project Lead. A dark baldie with a inmeasurably huge paunch, he made everyone wondered what got him the position he held. With an absolutely negligible technical knowledge thanks to his non-engineering background, he had done his graduation in Arts, a MBA from a virtually unknown college meant he would be parachuted as our PL.

Only good thing about him was him impeccable command over language. Many a times his few seconds of gyaan meant we had to spent the next hour or so trying to decipher the meaning of it. On a positive side we too had unknowingly gained from him in improving our vocab skills and me too had started using some flashy words to bedazzle others. I would have never known about the existence of words like Sacrosanct, magelomaniac had it not been for our PM; notwithstanding the clichés typical in IT world.

“Dude, we soon gonna get on the street if we loose this job” Shakti pronounced.

Words like Staff rationalization, headcount optimization, employee repatriation had been a commonplace and the odds were very high that the news headline each day would definitely figure it. These all meant the same thing, they all were sugar-coated words for sacking people.

Pay reductions and mass employment lay-offs has been a common feature in the name of cost-cutting. Since the fall of the Lehmann brothers in US in the preceeding September, many companies had faced the brunt of so called economic slowdown. Almost all of the IT bigwigs in the BFSI space had resorted to employee retrenchment citing shrinkage of business opportunities. Even the IT firms not in this segment had risen to the opportunity to burgeon its bottom line.

“Chill yaar, nothing of that sorts gonna happen. We wont be laid off, at least not in the near future” I almost said to him involuntarily.

“Dude, the bench is almost non-existent. And we are next in the firing line” he countered to my pacification.

“They wont be able to survive without you and me” as we both burst into laughter.