Something of Value

In the quiet dark hours of the night, when the country sleeps, when we dream of the finer objects of life, thousands of Indians keep awake dreaming dreams of their own. They epitomize the proverbial small idea that became a movement. We ridicule them, we are loathe to call what they do work, we hold the sum of their existence as means to support our end. They are the unseen and unwanted, the unsung heroes - the Call centre workers.

Before you smile and snigger, before you jump back and forth to investigate whether I've ever worked in a call centre let me assure you I haven’t. That is not my reason to post this here. But this was overdue, inside me somewhere.

Sometimes I see those early morning cabs, with a host of men and women heading home. They are not all pageant winners or dumb blondes. Sitting and smiling to herself, wearing a pullover in summer to save herself against the cold office and office cabs, getting a measly sum after being on the job 6 nights a week, she still holds a dream in her heart. A dream that bears fruit every time she brings home the groceries and refuses to accept payment from her mother. A dream that looks achievable whenever she buys her kid brother the mobile phone she couldn't afford growing up. The guy walking up to his dad and telling him to take it easy at office, the guy forcing the room rent onto his father's trembling hands or passing an extra hundred to his mother, in secret, for the household - now these are dreams worth living for.

But these are small people aren’t they? Cause they have such small dreams.

In a matter of 10 years, our country has grown from being mystical India where people came to find themselves to a country where foreigners and PIO prodigal sons come to find jobs. Yet all this wasn't an overnight effect of a magical plan. We opened our economy, we risked unknowing the effect competition would have on our small and medium enterprises. The result is there for us to see. !ncredible !ndia...

When girls and boys all over the country began waking nights, answering calls, taking in the irate customers and indecent language, the abuse, the long hours, the minimal pay, the inability to enjoy the sunlight which we enjoy every day, on that day they made this country a beautiful place to work in..and they visualized the India we live in today. 

The story does not end here. The story becomes bigger. The banks and mobile service providers started to adopt this dream. Call centres became a 24 hour businesses. They adapted when the call for banning off shore work became loud in America and they maneuvered through thick and thin and red tape of regulatory compliances. Service industry became a buzz word in all our dictionaries. GDP became the key through which we were to achieve our superiority. More foreign exchange flowed than ever before. Exports rose as India became a cost saving haven, a place where quality work came cheap. The Golden bird, the 'soney ki chidia' was flying once again. 

We grew as a nation. Sadly, not as a people. There was never any respect for the menial worker in India and the call centre employee became a menial accessory like other grade 4 staff. We joked about them and still do; we compared them to prostitutes and still do. We started to involve our time in mergers and acquisitions, overseas buy outs, private equities and hedge funds and the call centre became a run of the mill cost saving exercise. The job that started the gold rush was now valued as old rust. Rightly so, for its not a value creator, but a value saver.

Today, if you have the words 'call centre', 'technical support', 'night shift' in your resume you are a pariah. Nobody wants to touch you other than a call centre. I even know of a few who hide and deny their call centre experience knowing very well that it would contribute towards them being shown the door quicker.

Am sure you all have stories for how many call centre workers get paid handsomely and drink it all away or waste it all on their girlfriends. But then so do many others who have smart careers ahead of them, ones who aren't treated as mercenaries.

Fact is, nobody considers the work done by the typical diminutive invisible call centre employee at par with the rest of the Indian corporates. All I hope is, many of you read this, talk about it, and the next time you talk to a call centre employee, you don’t have to be kind to him/her like I am - just don’t be rude.

After all, it’s their dream come true. A dream bringing joy forever, it's loveliness lasts, and will never fade into oblivion.

We have one too...

It rained this weekend. Rarely does in Delhi.

We fly on a perpetual high, every time we see rain clouds and feels the cool breeze caressing our face. This city has never been about the aesthetic beauty. Here, its not what the rain brings rather what the rain stands for. Since it is the monsoon season the Capital must have some rain, mustn't it?

We love playing catch up in this city.

Every street has its Jones' and the Sharmas - Singhs - Chawlas keeping up with them. The signs are so obvious they make one laugh and jeer at the same time. Neighbors' houses often look the same on the inside regardless of the outer facade. Just like delhi people. There are big screen TVs, iPhones lying around, keys to the Mercedes and Bentleys carried around ceremoniously by hand and not the safe way in pockets. Its comical as to how car keys sporting the maker's name end up listening in to all your conversations lying craftily on the coffee table.
Then there are triple door refridgerators from simply Samsung, loud Roca bathroom fittings, meticulous Maspar curtains pulled just enough for you to see the Saint Gobain across the glass.

Popular in the city are...
Salsa classes, even though most Delhi-ites are pappus who can't dance saala...!
Cooking classes, although classy socialites of the city rarely feel the heat of the stove...
Music classes, even though the Dhol and bhangra is what we see in every wedding...

I guess even the rain Gods would not believe that by showering on this city it was just doing its part and helping it keep up-to-date with the happenings in the rest of the country.

The water is used occasionally by some ironically gifted individuals in colonies who opt for 'Rain water harvesting'. Water is scarce in the city and these spaterring of harvesters look forward to these few droplets of water to wet their 'we -are-doing-our-bit-for-this-city' routine! MAD they say...Mad About Delhi. Gimme a break!

The north-east-west doesn't get enough while in the South chauffeurs spray their precious cars with precious water all too many times a week...

While most of Delhi has darkness interrupted with few hours of electricity the Great-greater-greatest Kailash and Kailash hills and colonies get uninterrupted power.

If you live in this city, make it point to live in the south, next to a Who's Who. And try and keep up with him dear, he may take you to his farmhouse one day.

Holi hai !

Tomorrow is Holi. A most popular festival in India for we paint our faces regardless yet having the license to frolic for a whole day is special. Not all of us like the festival. I always end up asking people when did the 'liking' for the festival stop. I believe that's the day one becomes a drone, a robot. Devoid of the thrill of the mundanities (I hope that is a word!) of applying colour to others faces, one can see you've stooped so low in your efforts to be special that you have forgotten common people are special people too.                                          HAPPY HOLI EVERYBODY, GO FOR IT, GET A LIFE :) 

By Myself

What is it about winter that brings out the writer in me? Correction, make that 'amateurish writer in me'!

I could very well copy paste what I had written last year about the city and myself. I could if I DID feel the same way. I dont. Fact is the last year has seen disappointments in many quarters for me. The fight between good and evil days is a battle raging in our lives every year determining the size or absence of the grin on our faces. It so happens a fight is something the Good in my life shys away from, leaving me at the mercy of the Winter.

With failure in the exams waltzing around in my head the fact that the next result is just a month away isnt bringing the Christmas cheer into my coffee every morning, far from it.

Its not a smart move to be alone during these times, which is the reason profound for my choosing it as wallpaper for the season - Loneliness!

No friends. No enemies. A million strangers. I lead the list.

November

Its November.

The winter is beginning to set in. The days and nights are painted more beautiful everyday regardless of who notices them. The people in the city are busy. They are always very busy. Being akin to Bombay in its ruthless work culture there is rarely time to stop and smell the roses. Often I miss being in Calcutta,where the pace of my life was faster than the city that lived around me and I could at leisure watch the changing colours.

The boys and girls who are not from here often feel clamped by the city's over bearing enthusiasm for the good life and its comforts,others who embrace that nature end up as delhit-ites who over play their part.

Sometimes an event such a mass religious festival brings the city together but for most of the year around we are all floating feathers that never settle. Just blown away by the gusts of power and lucre. Sometimes we never land our feet because we are held high in the zephyr of the city.

I never know why I dont write more.I never know why I dont stop writing at all.

Whims and fancies lead my life more than will and determination does. Am I the alien in the city.Or am the only one who has embraced it.

Water Politics again!!

This is not another Kaveri related issue,this has its roots in something far more close to our livelihood...the Corporate world!
It was at around 2pm on a sultry saturday afternoon that someone sitting in front of me at tuition asked around for water...I promptly supplied him with my bottle. As he was about to take a sip what happened next shocked me!!
A woman's voice from the background stopped him from the heinous faux pas he was about to commit.He was about to drink from an Ernst & Young bottle. He is from PWC.
I shudder to think of the consequences if the sip had been taken.

Satan drinking from the proverbial cup of Christ or Jesus taking a dip in the pit??
Well,that depends on which side of the fence you are sitting on...

Clubbed...

A great evening has just come to end...well its 4:15 in the morning so I should say night has come to an end.
Good morning to all of India.While rest of India sleeps my brother is on his way back from the disc...I had been with him till 1.30 am but had to head back home.His birthday is on sunday and I couldnt see a better gift for him than to be spending it with some of the finest people I have met in Delhi.That is a lot coming from me because generally am sadistic n pessimistic.
Poo,Suvi,Mandakini,Kanishk,Madhu-Sudipto(they have been joined in holy matrimony,who am I to separate them!) and the rest,Thank You for a great evening!!
I danced after many months,sipped champagne,had small albeit entertaining conversations and went back home elated.
It has been I guess 5 years since I stayed up all night but partyin and then blogging kinda makes it worth it!!
Had tried to invite some of my friends to this celebration of sorts...good they didn't turn up...now I have an even lower opinion of them than I did in the first place!!Talk about spoil sports!!

Dunno why I have always had such low opinion of all my friends,maybe being close to anyone just makes me realize thru experience what a piece of work they really are!!

And hats off to Robs...being so much elder to me he has never made me feel the age difference...calling me n mah parents..his too of course...to the disc was just one out of million ways he shows us and the World what he truly is.

Well he is on his way back.Before anyone realizes I was up...I gotta go off to sleep...strange isnt it??
But before you call me strange look at urself buddy.
Goodnight...goodmorning...godspeed!