SHORT STORY
A bystander's view of organisation
S. RAMACHANDER
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Used to seeing the world of work through the managerial eye, try looking at it through a very different lens: the peon's eyes.
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I AM Swamy, the peon. That is not really my official name but that's what they call me (and some other things I don't care to recall) at this office. We used to be called attenders and even "office boys" — when we were grandfathers! Long ago, sahibs used to call out "boy" when they wanted something done, but thankfully that kind of nonsense is past. I once saw by chance a report lying on my Master's desk. Some place in Kolkata had as many peons and drivers on staff as professors. That's one way of acknowledging our importance! Trust the Bengalis to have their priorities right. You can manage for a while with part-time teachers but what would you do without the staff who know where every piece of paper is? OK, so we don't always manage to find them when needed, but you get my meaning.
To the Administration Officer, the real headman, we are sub-staff or D category, like some kind of lower order beings. The bureaucrat, of course, knows better. For them everyone in this world belongs to "class this" or "grade that" — starting from the super-time scale officers. These officer-types, I tell you, have an English only they can understand. Every letter my boss gets (he's not a government officer but a Company Director) begins with a kind of reverse sentence on top that goes all the way backwards to "such and such — regarding".
So different from what I learnt, at a first rate corporation school, let me add. We learnt English Composition, grammar and précis writing, most of which of course I have forgotten. But I do remember some things, like you can't say "supposing if"; suppose, is enough. Even my boss says "discuss about" while just `discuss' is enough.
Yet, you can't really blame the General Managers and Directors these days; it's their education. They are CA's or Engineers and some MBA too; but how they managed without putting three sentences together in good English I don't know. Not that their Hindi is any better. The other day I had to point out to Balu, one of the young assistants, that Esq., meant `esquire', a formal way of address, which didn't need a Mister in front. When I started working here 30 years ago — on daily wages — letters to the sahibs were addressed to So-and-so esquire, particularly from clubs like Gymkhana.
Anyways, how does all this matter to me, you may ask. After all, I only carry mail from one floor to another, post any still written on paper, pick up the phone if the secretary has disappeared round the corner. (She must have some serious problem if she actually does go to the loo that often; must be simply busy filing her nails or whatever). This email, sms and everything have actually made us surplus.
All right, the union fellows wouldn't like to hear me say that but what the hell? I am old enough to speak the truth — some times! I mean it is cheaper for them keeping us than giving us early retirement bonus, so we just hang around. Not that I am idle, I got my daughter well educated, up to MSc., then fixed up with a software man in Bangalore. A great moment in my life, and the boss and his wife came for the wedding and gave their blessings. Now that's what I really like about a boss, the personal touch. So okay, he does lose his temper when some customer or the Chairman gives him a hard time; and then he criticises me for something that I didn't do: the coffee is too cold, or the table is too dirty or whatever. But he soon forgets and sometimes has the courtesy to call me inside and apologise. I of course say, "It's quite all right sir" even when it is strictly not all right!
Now, the new breed of managers these days is quite different. They are only interested in their own promotion, a foreign posting, and what they can charge off to the company. I wonder if they are really interested in the prosperity of the firm. I hear they are tightening up on all that splurging and partying in this Central Government Budget. About time too, when you think how many people were enjoying on the company's account, taking a whole week off in London for a one-day conference. It always happens in June, with Lord's test or Wimbledon round the corner.
These types don't even say "Thank you" if you stay late for them. While they are munching away at sandwiches and company-paid cashew nuts at the meeting till eight at night, does it occur to them to ask whether we could nip across to the canteen for a snack? Oh no, they're too full of themselves for that.
My friend Joe, the Marketing Chief's driver tells me it's much the same with him. Once the whole family were at some sadhu's satsang all day, without bothering to tell Joe to have his lunch and take a breather. And guess what, they were deep into a discussion on compassion and love. The best part is, I'm sure, the irony didn't even strike them.
Now I am not against the managerial class as a whole, actually quite the opposite. My son is at engineering college and eager to do his MBA. I think he will do well and wish him the best, but I only hope he'll learn to treat all his colleagues the way some of my earlier bosses used to, with courtesy and affection, like a fellow human being. I wonder if they teach that at management institutes.
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