Monalisa and the hen
For a major part of my career, I worked with a publishing major. I began working there from the mid-90s and stuck on for almost a decade. For a good four and a half years, I was in the technical editing department of the company and the time I had there was not something I relished. The going was tough, and I didn’t really enjoy working under most of the editors. In the four plus years, I worked under five different bosses. It was terribly frustrating. On numerous occasions, some of the bosses drove me up the wall. There was one young lady, who I would say was easily the most knowledgeable of all the senior editors but was never in the good books of the management as she was way behind in production. She looked like Monalisa, had a good sartorial sense, spoke impeccable English, had the best editing skills and was very sincere and honest but was extremely rude and ill-mannered. She had a lot of family problems too. Time and again she would let out her pent-up feelings on her subordinates. One day, she flung a whole lot of cartridges at me. There were times she would yell at me. I would get frustrated and keep asking myself, “Do I deserve all this?” I started hating life. I spent two agonising years working under her. Phew!
Before working with ‘Monalisa’, there was another lady who I worked with at the beginning of my tenure here. She walked like a hen. She pecked me often and her pecks hurt badly. As if that wasn’t enough she had a deputy who would time and again humiliate me. I spent 6 months of my life with these twin terrors. The 6 months with the terrible twosome ended amidst high drama.
When I worked in this company, I hardly took leave. We worked five and a half days per week. In the first three years, I only took six days off. I took my first leave, a sick leave, after I hurt an eye during Diwali. In my absence, the hen asked her boss for someone to help her as there was too much work on hand. The girl who took my place was a good cook and was especially good with chicken dishes. She wove her culinary magic on the hen. She charmed the hen so much that when I reported to work the next day, my eye injury not completely healed, I was greeted with side glances. It so happened that I had missed out on a comma (just one comma) when I proof-read some pages two days back. I was taken to task for that. And then both, the hen and her deputy got busy scrutinising all my work to find out more errors in my works. I have no idea how many they found. They walked with a whole lot of sheets to the MD’s cabin and before I knew what was happening I got a call from the MD’s office. The man was livid. He warned me that he would throw me out of the company for shoddy work and gave me two weeks to show some improvement. “You either improve or say goodbye to the company”, he warned.
I was taken aback and asked him what he meant by ‘shoddy work’. “You check with your boss. She just came and complained. I have immense trust on my editors”, he replied. He went on to add in a rude tone, “You leave now”. I went back to my workstation shell-shocked and asked the ladies if they could elaborate on what they meant by “shoddy work” as mentioned by the MD. “We don’t know what you are talking about,” replied one of them. I narrated what the MD told me and the two week deadline that he had given me. “We have no idea. He is cooking up some stories. He is very good at cooking up stories. He obviously has something against you. He is simply dropping my name,” replied the hen.
I narrated the incident to my father. He only replied, “That is office life. You have to adjust. Don’t worry you are only six months into the job. You are still learning”. His words had no effect on me. I cried the whole night. The next day, I did not have the motivation to go to office. I continued crying. My father intervened. “Okay, quickly write your resignation letter and go to office. The first thing you do is to drop the letter at your MD’s office. That is the only solution.” I wiped my tears and quickly wrote my resignation letter. My eyes were bloodshot red when I walked into office. In spite of all the roadblocks, I had managed to reach office before many others. I punched my card and headed straight to the MD’s office. He had not come as yet. I handed over the letter to his secretary and walked out.
When I went to my workstation, I had an air of confidence about me. After all, I would be leaving. I would be tasting freedom. I just sat back on my chair. The ladies had not yet arrived. A few minutes later, I got a call from the MD’s office. I raced down the stairs, I just wanted to get done with everything and leave the premises even before the two ladies arrived. I wanted to taste freedom.
I entered the MD’s office seconds later. He looked at my resignation letter that was kept on his table and asked me, “What is this?” “That is my resignation letter”, I replied. “Why do you want to resign?”, he asked. “I thought you are not happy with my work? And you have given me two weeks to improve. I cannot do better than this. I work very hard, I am very regular to office, and I am very punctual. I do not want to be sent off. I would rather leave on my own,” I said. And then I went on, “Yesterday, after I left your office I asked my boss what she meant by shoddy work. She denied telling you anything. And she told me that you are cooking up stories as you have something against me. She also told me that you are simply using her name.”. “Ha ha ha…… ha ha ha”, he laughed. “Did she tell that?”, he asked. “Yes, she did”, I replied. He then looked at my resignation letter and added on a serious note, “Take this back.” I firmly said, “No”. He smiled and said, “Shall I put you under another editor? Will you take this back then?” I then remembered what my father said, “…..You have to adjust”. I thought for a while and said, “Okay sir”. He handed the letter back to me and said he will get back.
On leaving his room, I suddenly lapsed into thoughts. “What if he puts me under one of her friends? Hell! No!” I then retraced my steps quickly and dashed to the MD’s room. “Sir”, I said, “I have a problem.” I did not allow him to speak, “Can you please put me under one of the male editors. I don’t want to work under any of the ladies..” He felt extremely amused and laughed. “I do not want to end up working under any of her friends,” I said. He gestured me to go and laughed again. The transition to another workstation happened in a few hours. And the hen got what she wanted, the culinary queen walked into her team and her new boss became richer with numerous chicken recipes making their way into her cookbook in the days to come. I heard the culinary queen and the two ladies got along with each other like a house on fire.
Thanks to the unsavoury incidents that I got involved in, my probation got extended by six months. I worked under a male boss who was not so happy with me intruding into his team. Fortunately, he did not want to mess up my career. He let me work under him till I got absorbed in the company. I was then moved to another workstation and had to work under another boss. The new boss was ‘Monalisa’. The rest is history.
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