EXECUTIVE DECISION

The upside of ‘working’ in the Reject’s Corner in SYNAMEN is that people forget I’m there, and that let’s me eavesdrop on conversations quite shamelessly.

Usually the conversations are so boring it’s a wonder I don’t go brain-dead immediately.

Example ….

“Glibbety glock, computer jargon, weird abbreviation and blah blah blah”

(it’s like ‘Puter Geeks have their own language. First, their own language. Next stop, world domination? Yikes!)

Then there’s squeaking chairs (IT Professionals aren’t exactly known for being in shape) drumming fingers, post-lunch smells and constant fiddling with the AC controls forcing me to wear a parka inside the office.

And then comes along a conversation - like this, and it makes everything worthwhile (LOL) ……

Sriram : what about a rectangle?

Jothi : Or a square?

Sriram : Maybe a square

Jothi : or a rectangle?

Intelligent silence follows.

Huh? :o

I get up to go see what’s going on.

Sriram : we’re trying to decide if the thumbnails should be squares or rectangles in PROHIVE.

(I resist the urge to check the nail on my thumb)

Sriram then holds up two fingers.

“Touch one” he says to Jothi.

Jothi does.

“Square” Sriram declares.

“Touch one” he offers to Thamizh.

Thamizh does.

“Square” Sriram declares once again.

Square it is!

:D

BUNNY EPIPHANY

I amble into the office – the last one to arrive, yawning profusely - and they are all there, gazing intently into their computer screens, not-talking, just staring and typing stuff that makes sense to only them.

I saunter out of the office – the first one to leave, yawning and stretching – and they’re still there, the whole lot of them … staring and typing away at their computers.

SALSA POLICE. That seems to be the ONLY thing these guys are capable of talking about around here. Like a mantra. SALSA POLICE. SALSA POLICE. SALSA POLICE.

I just can’t figure this out.

Do they love their work so much or do they hate going home?

Or maybe they keep making mistakes and have to keep re-doing everything all over again – every day?

Which automatically means, I’m so brilliant, I do my work right the first attempt and therefore have plenty of free time on hand? …….. Nah. Even I know that’s not true.

Because I’ve been banished to the far end of the office (I have dubbed this place ‘the Reject’s Corner’ hoping to inspire some remorse in someone – anyone - but no one seems to care. Possibly because no one’s Catholic in this office now), I get to pass their stations a few hundred times a day on my way to the loo and back (what?) … and what I see, chills the blood in my veins (actually it doesn’t but I like exaggeration like this)

Not one person’s staring at a youtube video or is logged on to facebook or is on gtalk!

Either the Matrix has completely gotten to them or they have better peripheral vision and enviable reflexes.

Another weird thing I’ve noticed.

There’s tons of stuff on my table. Not good stuff like my stuff toys and CDs. I mean bad stuff like dust-bunnies and receipts, dust bunnies and news-paper pieces, dust bunnies and chocolate wrappers, dust bunnies and old cotton swabs stained with nail-polish and dust bunnies and tissue paper with lip-stick smears all over.

I promise you I am not responsible for the dust bunnies. My coffee cup looks like a science experiment came in and died there. Doesn’t smell anymore though – which is such a relief.

And the rest of the people’s tables and the area around them is free of anything that requires an inspection from the sanitation office. How is this possible?

It’s like I’m being singled out by the universe to get bunnied on. Is it my fault that I happen to be blessed enough to land the fluffiest job in the office – possibly the world?

Oh.

Fluff.

Wow … that explains the dust bunnies.

Don’t get me wrong. They do show signs of life occasionally. Vijay pops by to make fun of me. CS – to pull my leg with a straight face. Sriram Gopal to check see if I’m on facebook, which I invariably am …. Yes. I suffer terrific discrimination in this office. But then, after the harassment, they once again slip into zombie mode and start typing computer-speak furiously into their ‘puters.

I’m beginning to think that ‘Puter Geek is their real identity and Regular-Human is their occasional alter ego.

“Wow Edel, you’ve learned so much from your one year in SYNAMEN” Sriram said yesterday.

“Eh?” I looked at him suspiciously. Why was he ‘praising’ me?

“You know how to do research and enter data into Excel Files.”

“Hm” I was busy searching for the sarcasm and decided I couldn’t find it. Mentally I unfurled my pea-cock feathers and strutted about. “That’s because I’m a genius Sriram” I replied humbly.

Jothi popped-up over my station and said, “Edel, you’ve forgotten to attach the document to the e-mail you sent me …”

“… As usual”, some smart Alec quipped from the background, as my mental pea-cock feathers deflated.

Oh.

Feathers.

Fluff.

Dust bunnies.

Figures L

EXCEL MATRIX

A month and a half ago, Sriram gave me an assignment. Collect a gazillion data and info from the internet, and arrange them in an Excel Spreadsheet.

I looked at him and wondered if he had even met me. He was actually asking me to create order out of chaos!

Me!

“What Edel?”

“Huh. Nothing.” I mumbled, trying to find a delicate way to express my displeasure at doing anything this methodical and - in columns!

“What’s the matter?”

“Excel’s so stupid. I want to do it in Word” (So much for delicacy)

THAT look illuminated Sriram’s face.

The look of a man who is smitten, addicted and in-love with MICROSOFT EXCEL and who can’t wait to make converts of normal regular folk like me.

He’s like Agent Smith … working for the Matrix.

Over the next 15 minutes he taught me how to fill in rows and columns, how to make a column wider, insert a row, delete a row or a column, color a column or a box …. Well, you get the gist.

So I start.

Oh Help!

Somehow, my laptop manages to NOT explode – or bulge - at the seams even though my spreadsheet is truly spread over a large area. Hmmmm. Wouldn’t it be great if that were the case with pastries and waistlines.

FAST FORWARD TO TODAY

Me (Whimpering and raking my fringe frantically): It’s all …. [Making random motions with my hands]

Sriram aka Agent Smith: What happened?

Me: I added new updates and now all the columns are …. [Making random motions with my hands]

Shreeram (Picking up the scissors from my pen stand): Mind if I borrow this for a minute Edel?

Me (WHAT’S HE GOING TO DO WITH THAT? Stab me because I messed-up my Excel sheet??!!): Huh? Sure. (GULP – you can never tell what’s going to happen in the Matrix)

Shreeram proceeds to use my scissors to cut swatches of giant cellotape to do some DIY patchwork on the office wall-to-wall carpet.

We may be poor, but we are ingenious.

(Gloria Gaynor started to sing, “I will survive” inside my head)

Koman pops by.

Koman: Excel is so easy and such a useful tool.

Me (Gee Koman, don’t worry about hurting MY feelings. I have a lot of emotional fortitude): Show off.

Koman: Let me send you a sheet I did a few years ago so you’ll understand.

Me (Wow, kick me some more when I’m down, why don’t you?) Screaming: No I don’t want to see it, you Show-off.

However, Koman will NOT be stopped. He yells from his booth that he’s mailed me his, ‘Oh-Look-At-Me-Koman’s-Perfect-And-Flawless-Excel-Sheet’.

Office Outlook’s on my side though and his mail gets lost in the ether between our desks.

[Gulp. Matrix?]

Being Catholic, I immediately feel guilty for feeling so smugly happy. Moreover, because I’m Catholic and therefore must self-flagellate, I walk over to his booth and ask him to show me, ‘The-Wonder-That-Is-Koman’s-Excel-Sheet’ ….. which he’s only too eager to share. And for the next 10 minutes, he proceeds to try and explain to me how rows and rows and rows and rows of numbers can be very ‘exciting’ to look at. Matrix 101 (“I know what you're thinking, 'cause right now I'm thinking the same thing. Actually, I've been thinking it ever since I got here: Why oh why didn't I take the BLUE pill?” – I’m WITH you Cypher)

Walking back to my booth, completely and thoroughly humbled by a few columns and rows, I yell, “This is obviously designed by a man! No wonder it makes NO sense!”

The staff of SYNAMEN choose to not-reply.

Because, “Unfortunately no one can be told what the Matrix is. You have to see it for yourself.”

HERE’S TO US FOR A NEW BEGINNING

It’s been an eventful year and SYNAMEN is taking a bold step into 2010 – a little battle scarred and worse-for-wear, but with its fighting spirit intact.

The happiest events have been Thamizh having a son and CS getting married.

Add to that the addition of Vidhu – and the occasional cameo appearance of Anna – into our SYNAMEN fold!

2010 will see SYNAMEN’s 3^rd Birthday and her completion of one year in our new office building.

And let’s not forget the launch of her first portal in its beta version. Phew! Well done you guys!

And we are extremely excited about our new portal that’s coming out this year – PROHIVE. Watch this space people!

Blessed …. That’s how we all feel J

INTERVIEW

“HR Supremo?” Vijay called.
“Yes”, I answered.
“We need you to do something”
I sighed. It’s one thing to come up with a fancy sounding title and force people to address you by that, and it’s another matter altogether when they expect you to DO something.
“What is it Vijay?”
“Our interns are coming in tomorrow for an interview and we need you to sit in the panel.”
I blinked owlishly and my palms started sweating instantly.
“Huh? But, why?”
“Because you’re the HR ‘Supremo’ of SYNAMEN.”
I didn’t care too much for the obvious vocal quotes he dressed ‘Supremo’ with.
Wish my ego hadn’t galloped off on its own when Shreeram had asked me to take care of the HR Department. See? Now I was expected to DO something.
“What do I wear?”
Vijay wasn’t expecting this question I think.
“I mean, do I have to wear a saree or something?” I clarified.
To his credit, he kept his face neutral.
I’ve noticed that men don’t expect questions like this and when confronted with one, they immediately start imitating a statue.
Maybe I should have asked about the interview questions – but at that time, those seemed to be the least of my worries.
Salwar or Saree were the most pressing concern.
I’m like that only.

The next day, clad in a Salwar, I accompany Koman and Vijay to the office upstairs.
The interns have just finished their written test and Vijay is brandishing the rolled-up answer sheets like an Excalibur, as he talks to Koman.
I’m thankful they are involved in serious, technical, man-talk, because that means I can hyperventilate in private.
Thoughts like, ‘Do I smile or frown?’, ‘Do I pretend to take notes?’, ‘Do I speak in English or Tamil?’ and ‘What if an intern asks me something and I don’t know how to answer?’ keep flitting around in my mind.
I’m working myself up to a state where I think I’m going to vomit, when Vijay announces that we’re ready for our first candidate.
Oh help!
The lad enters and Koman and Vijay both turn around to look at me.
Huh?
‘What?’ I ask them telepathically.
They continue to look at me.
Obviously ESP is NOT one of their gifts.
I’m so worked-up, I want to run to the loo and throw-up in peace.
“This is Edel, our HR Head”, Vijay introduces me and nods encouragingly.
I flash – what I desperately hope is a terrifically competent smile - at the intern. “Where are you from?”
He answers.
“Which College are you from?”
He answers.
(‘Oh Lord! I’m running out of questions to ask!’)
“Which is your native place?”
He answers.
(‘Obviously NOT a chatty intern’ I think waspishly)
“Is this your first trip to Chennai?”
He answers.
(‘Sheesh boy! A little help here, please!’)
“Where are you staying?”
He answers.
Koman and Vijay continue to look at me asking inane questions.
Suddenly inspiration strikes.
“What are your hobbies?”
He answers in a couple of words this time.
Huh? That’s IT?
My mind runs dry.
I look intelligently at Vijay and Koman and say, ‘Now they’ll take-over the questioning.”
PHEW!
What follows sounds a lot like Alien-speak to me and I start playing little games to keep myself occupied.
Like, if I squint, Intern becomes ‘Blurry Intern’ or ‘Blurtern’.
If I close one eye and then the next, in quick succession, Vijay and Koman overlap and separate.
I crack my toe knuckles.
I glance at my reflection furtively on the glass of the door and mentally work out various hair-styles.
Mostly I try and stay awake.

Candidate Number 2 enters.
Koman and Vijay look at me.
“Where are you from?” I ask immediately.
To their credit, they don’t groan out loud.

WHY A MEDICAL DEGREE CAN BE CONFUSING IN A WEB-SOLUTIONS FIRM

Virus A

A’s lap-top is infected with a pornographic virus, with decidedly homophilic inclinations.
CS is fixing the problem and is trying to fit into the small crawl-space that passes for our booth. He asks me to move my lap-top aside and I misunderstand.
“My lap-top can get infected with the virus if I keep it close to hers?” I ask, and it actually takes CS 5 minutes to un-freeze from shock.


Virus B – Part 1

This time my lap-top’s infected.
Of course I make a Greek tragedy of it.
CS and Vijay are working on fixing it while I hover around them, hoping to be of some use.
“See? Do you see that CS? That worm keeps on running forever before my lappy officially opens. See? Huh? What?” I ask confused.
CS and Vijay both have studied-neutral looks on their faces.
“It’s called the ‘Progress Bar’ Edel”, Vijay informs me in a tone one reserves for children with special-needs.


Virus B – Part 2

“How come my computer got infected CS? I don’t watch porn!” … my logic, of course, being - promiscuous behavior = viral infection (See? This is how I’m trained to think)
Shreeram laughs from his end. Vijay joins in and Chucks puts in her ha’penny’s worth, “You are such a blonde Edel!”
Ho ho ho. Ha ha ha.
And I still don’t understand how these Viruses got in! Grrrrrrrr.


Virus B – Part 3

“Why didn’t you quarantine the viruses Edel?” CS asks me.
Vijay’s quivering with unexpressed mirth … like he can’t wait to hear my answer.
I decide to get as technical as possible, so I don’t appear completely clueless.
“The computer told me that my system will crash if I force-cleaned it. So I figured, if I quarantine the viruses, maybe that part of my computer will – you know – become gangrenous or something, and die.”
Shreeram started laughing first.


Virus B – Part 4

“Hey Vijay! Can you like stuff my lap-top full of anti-virus (Medicine? Prophylactics?) … er … thingys? That way, it’ll never get infected like this again!”
I’m thinking, ‘There’s no way he can make fun of this statement’, when Vijay cracks-up.
“You can only have one Anti-virus program running in a computer Edel. Just make sure to update regularly.”

WHY I AM AWESOME AND SYNAMEN IS LUCKY TO HAVE ME – Part Deux

I’d heard quite a bit about her from my sister.
That she loves movies as much as I do and can talk movies all day long.
I thought, ‘I like her already.’
We exchanged a couple of e-mails, we talked briefly on the phone and I met her for the first time in BBQ Nation, December 2008.

The next time I saw her was during the Women’s Film Festival, first week of March this year, in Sathyam Cinemas.
Dork that I am, I was watching the films and documentaries with a note-book in hand – taking the occasional notes. Archana called me and told me that she was running late and when she did finally walk in, I hid my note-book and pen in my ruck-sack …. Who needed an audience for ‘Nerdiness’, right?
We hugged like long-lost friends and ‘Hi’-ed, and settled down to watch a documentary about how difficult life was for single lesbians in Korea.
Then it was time for the iconic Mirch Masala.
Out of the corner of my eye ……….
I saw …………….
Archana …………………
bend down to open her bag and bring a notebook out!!!!!!!
It was A4 size note-book, ruled, front and back.
Wow !
She then proceeded to cover 7 pages with notes while watching the film – never losing track of both!
In the race for Nerdiness – I had just been beaten and HOW!

A month ago, Archana, aka Chucks, calls me and asks me if Sriram was hiring.
I said, “Sure, if you’ll work for free.” (Chuckle Chuckle Guffaw)
She stunned me with a “Sure!”
Blink …. Blink.
A hurried phone call to Sriram and then he calls her and VIOLA! Another woman in the SYNAMEN office, thanks to yours truly.

And that’s why I’m so wonderful.
[Maybe I should ask for a raise :D]