My office desk was cluttered with some thirty odd post-it "sticky" notes. Each one bearing a quote, some wise crack or some thoughts that I may have churned out. It all began when once in a meeting I asked something silly and apologized for asking such a stupid question. To which my manager replied "There are not stupid questions". As I was about to find out, it was but a part of the whole quote which was "There are no stupid questions, only stupid people". I was so mighty impressed with it that I promptly wrote it down on a sticky note and put it on my cubicle wall at my desk.
I gradually cultivated this habit and kept adding wackier, funnier stickies onto my "sticky" wall-of-fame. People appreciated it, some found it amusing, some thought I was eccentric. But who cared. My collection was growing over time and I was running out of space. It was a museum of wit, humor, philosophy and I was its curator.
My aspirations of being its curator for longer were cut short by my decision to move out of the company. I saw an opportunity I could not miss and had learnt all that I could at current job to let go without any regrets. With just couple of days to go, I was glancing at these pearls of wisdom that I had either shamelessly copied or tried to put in words of my own. It was then that a really different idea came across my mind. I thought it would be cool to ask my friends and colleagues to pick the ones they liked and put them on their desks as a souvenir. So I sent out a mail to a close group asking them to come over and choose a sticky for themselves. Soon enough people were making their way to my desk and picking ones which they thought suited them best. It was interesting to observe who chose what because it said a lot about them.
One of the first ones to go was "Success is the ability to go from one failure to another with no loss of enthusiasm", good choice I thought and could only have been taken by a person with a never say die attitude. My junior grabbed this one, "If I am so afraid that I wont even try, how can I say that I am alive". I saluted his spirit and hoped he will never be afraid to try anything in his life. Then came the turn of the newest member of our team. She probably wasn't even aware of my departure until recently when the news broke out. She pondered her options and settled for "Like scars add great character to the soul, dents add great character to the car". She must really love her car was what I thought before recollecting my own story behind this quote which I had penned.
By now the stickies were disappearing very fast and I was finding it difficult to keep track of who chose what but made sure that they took only one, so that others also could get a chance. People picked stuff like "We are drowning in information, but starved for knowledge" and "Ships in harbor are safe, but then that is not what ships are built for", but what disappointed me was there were no takers for my very own stickies which had a hard hitting take on the management. I am a huge Dilbert fan and besides the comic strips if there were anything else which came even close were some of the stickies on my wall. I was waiting for people to pick "Proactiveness is when you send mail saying that you are about to sneeze. Initiative is when you tickle yourself with a feather first" or "You may think it is you initiative but the fact is you are a victim of your manager's delegation with credit taken in advance" or "The one who smiles when things go wrong has thought of someone to blame it on". I think people were steering clear of any controversial choice of sticky notes. Until someone hesitantly chose "Job satisfaction is just a temporary phase". Way to go man! And someone else picked up "Arm yourself because no one else here will save you". I smirked as I saw people shedding their inhibitions and making some bold choices.
Another of my juniors came to my desk and was almost immediately baffled by her options. She naively asked me which one would I choose if I were to give her one. I looked around the scattered notes and chose one for her. It was none other than the Vodafone jingle "Every morning I wish I could just play. Wish the mornings would just stay". Something befitting her naivety, which she gladly accepted.
With more and more stickies vanishing by the minute, I was left with only a handful. Late comers were in for a disappointment but hey doesn't the early bird get the worm?
When I sent out that mail to all, I had no idea it would turn out to be such a fabulous experience. Some were commenting on the wit these notes carried, some complimented me on my handwriting (read liars!!) while some were back for more as just one sticky was not enough for them. In some sense, I pondered, I was leaving a legacy behind, giving enough souvenirs to my friends to remember me by. May be I can start making a new stickies collection in my new workplace and hope someone back here will continue my trend. And I think I know just the person. If she is reading this, please take a cue. We all know how much you love your car.
It was almost seven in the evening and I had just few more minutes before I bade goodbye to this place. Maybe I will come back after a couple of years, but venturing out at this point is something that I must do. I took a final look at my wall with just one sticky note left. None other would have suited the situation more than this one. I was leaving my 'sticky' legacy behind and the last one of them read "Life is simple. You make choices and don't look back".
Jul 25, 2010
Jul 2, 2010
Appraisal at gunpoint
Those who have been following my blogs probably know that I do not hold the job appraisal process in high regard. Especially in IT where appraisals are probably more rigged than the world cup cricket matches. So post appraisal, one could either be burdened with grief and low self esteem or emerge triumphant with an i-don't-give-a-damn attitude, metamorphosed into a being of steel, undeterred by the ball talk that just took place in closed glass room praying that the glass rather be sound proof because if it weren't, chances are that few others also heard the ridiculous, stereotypical, inconsequential talk and felt good about themselves by living in the bubble that their manager is a tad better. I am not even getting started on the victims of the normalization curve, a fancy tool and an unparalleled excuse to pitch an unaware soul into the danger zone. A career changing punishment which affects salary and promotions. Having given enough background on the topic, this is how I want my appraisal to be and may I pray that I survive IT long enough to see this one day.
A mail pops up in my inbox. A meeting invite. Subject says '1:1 Discussion'. I smirk. I know the end. What will follow is the beginning towards that end. I leave home early. I have preparation to do. Few more days I do the same. My actions are completely justifiable should someone ask me. But my manager makes a note of this. One more appraisal point is what he thinks. I don't want to correct him. Let him relish this until the day we cross swords.
D-day, d-time. I am cool, confident and colossally caffeinated. He is furiously typing something, filling out some online portal, jotting some notes, basically making his arsenal replete for a premeditated onslaught. He signals me to the meeting room and dashes off to collect some printouts from the printer. His walk is emphatic, face beaming. 'I am going to nail him this time' must be the words going through his mind. I am least bothered coz I have a plan. Years of appraisals have driven me to bring an end to things and this is how.
I make my way to the meeting room which I chose for a reason. I want to have the battleground advantage for my ambush. He sits in the chair which I leave unoccupied making himself invisible to the rest of the floor. I have a deep laugh. The bait has been taken. Bring it on.
He starts as usual. Managerial jargon that does not make any sense to me. After weapons like "proactiveness" and "initiative" have lost their sharp edge, he tries to strike me with new fire power like "ownership" and "book of work". Book of work ... 'bow' for short.... bow-wow!! I am not amused. And ownership as I understand is like raising a foster child. Someone initiates a project, bakes it half way and passes it on to someone convincing him that it is his baby from now on. The child may be down right arrogant but its easy to blame bad parenting.
Back at the table, some more precious minutes go by and I realize that its time to put my plan in action. I speak for the first time in a deep heavy voice to make it clear that what I say is not to be taken lightly. I am doing a perfect imitation of Vito Corleone from the Godfather but the nut head sitting across the table thinks that I have a sore throat. And I begin.
"I work for you on unrealistic deadlines, sacrificing my weekends and tiny joys of having tea in canteen, forfeiting my dates because I am working on Friday nights. And you think you can take such opportunities to humiliate me further by saying all that I do isn't good enough. There must be an end to this and that end has a price. I leave it to you to decide if it is a price you want to pay."
He is not believing what he hears and before his smile turns to anger, I make my move, making him go from being angry to bewildered to outright frightened. I place my Colt Python with its holder on the table. 'I want to end this' are my last words he hears before blacking out for a brief moment.
"Do you know what this is? Colt Python, the finest revolver ever made with its .357 caliber that, needless to say, is very lethal in short range. Peer into its nickel finish barrel while you wait for that bullet to be fired. Now listen."
"Your project management skills have made me forget words like faith, hope and mentoring. Over time I have lost motivation. Do you hear me? You fail to motivate me. The only thing I am motivated to do is place my Colt on your temple and pull the trigger. I may also go trigger happy riddling your arms and legs before letting the last bullet find its way into your head."
Dead silence.
"What happened? Never seen such a deadline before." I chuckle at that pun before continuing, "You still probably have enough time to come up with an analysis document on how did this situation ever arise. At your experience level, this is expected...."
By now he has a parched throat and is gasping for air.
"Let me make it easy for you. I will take out one bullet from the gun, spin the wheel for while and lock it back in. That leaves you with one chance at life. Make no mistakes. Probably this will make you feel the way I did when I was pushing that code to live. How uncertain I was, for I was all but a foster parent for it." Somehow creative literature gets the best of me at this point. I am surprised at myself. But again the moment itself is so dramatic.
"As you pass bricks in your pants, I am willing to reverse the probability. Lets just keep one bullet in the wheel and each of us takes a chance at pulling the trigger. Equal chance right? Here I go" and like a pro I pull the trigger to click at an empty chamber. That clicking sound sends an odd chill down his spine. He sweats incessantly as I see beads dripping off his nose and chin. "Your chance". He is trembling with fear, unable to comprehend what had lead to this extremity. Its not the hundredth blow that knocks down the wall, but the ninety nine that go before it as well. Someone ought to have told him that.
I pick up the revolver and place it on his temple. "I am making you an offer you cannot refuse", I say again with my Corleone imitation at its best. "I want an increment which I decide, a long term onsite and a promotion. Don't even try to make everyone in the team happy by passing these goodies like toffees to children. Its either all for me or a bullet for you. And should I pull the trigger, let me tell you I have booked this room for the next four hours. That's long after the last office creature has gone home. Take a look around. No one on the floor can see you or your plight. I have my aides telling people that you went home early due to health complaint so I doubt anyone will come looking for you. I will walk out of this place without raising any suspicion and come back later to reclaim my kill. The boot of my car is big enough to dispose two of your kind."
He is tongue-tied, white with fear but agrees to everything I say. He survives the day, learns some humility, understands that projects cant work without resources who are humans and not machines, relaxes some deadlines and even sponsors a movie outing for the team. A little hostility brings out the better side of him. I ponder, he isn't that bad, but high time he learns some people management lessons the hard way.
As for me I get what I want. Move to onsite of my choice at better designation, working diligently and enjoying life for the next six months until one fine day, I resign. Resign to join another IT giant because....
...I was given an offer I could not refuse. ;-)
Hell, this would be a dream appraisal for me. How about you?
A mail pops up in my inbox. A meeting invite. Subject says '1:1 Discussion'. I smirk. I know the end. What will follow is the beginning towards that end. I leave home early. I have preparation to do. Few more days I do the same. My actions are completely justifiable should someone ask me. But my manager makes a note of this. One more appraisal point is what he thinks. I don't want to correct him. Let him relish this until the day we cross swords.
D-day, d-time. I am cool, confident and colossally caffeinated. He is furiously typing something, filling out some online portal, jotting some notes, basically making his arsenal replete for a premeditated onslaught. He signals me to the meeting room and dashes off to collect some printouts from the printer. His walk is emphatic, face beaming. 'I am going to nail him this time' must be the words going through his mind. I am least bothered coz I have a plan. Years of appraisals have driven me to bring an end to things and this is how.
I make my way to the meeting room which I chose for a reason. I want to have the battleground advantage for my ambush. He sits in the chair which I leave unoccupied making himself invisible to the rest of the floor. I have a deep laugh. The bait has been taken. Bring it on.
He starts as usual. Managerial jargon that does not make any sense to me. After weapons like "proactiveness" and "initiative" have lost their sharp edge, he tries to strike me with new fire power like "ownership" and "book of work". Book of work ... 'bow' for short.... bow-wow!! I am not amused. And ownership as I understand is like raising a foster child. Someone initiates a project, bakes it half way and passes it on to someone convincing him that it is his baby from now on. The child may be down right arrogant but its easy to blame bad parenting.
Back at the table, some more precious minutes go by and I realize that its time to put my plan in action. I speak for the first time in a deep heavy voice to make it clear that what I say is not to be taken lightly. I am doing a perfect imitation of Vito Corleone from the Godfather but the nut head sitting across the table thinks that I have a sore throat. And I begin.
"I work for you on unrealistic deadlines, sacrificing my weekends and tiny joys of having tea in canteen, forfeiting my dates because I am working on Friday nights. And you think you can take such opportunities to humiliate me further by saying all that I do isn't good enough. There must be an end to this and that end has a price. I leave it to you to decide if it is a price you want to pay."
He is not believing what he hears and before his smile turns to anger, I make my move, making him go from being angry to bewildered to outright frightened. I place my Colt Python with its holder on the table. 'I want to end this' are my last words he hears before blacking out for a brief moment.
"Do you know what this is? Colt Python, the finest revolver ever made with its .357 caliber that, needless to say, is very lethal in short range. Peer into its nickel finish barrel while you wait for that bullet to be fired. Now listen."
"Your project management skills have made me forget words like faith, hope and mentoring. Over time I have lost motivation. Do you hear me? You fail to motivate me. The only thing I am motivated to do is place my Colt on your temple and pull the trigger. I may also go trigger happy riddling your arms and legs before letting the last bullet find its way into your head."
Dead silence.
"What happened? Never seen such a deadline before." I chuckle at that pun before continuing, "You still probably have enough time to come up with an analysis document on how did this situation ever arise. At your experience level, this is expected...."
By now he has a parched throat and is gasping for air.
"Let me make it easy for you. I will take out one bullet from the gun, spin the wheel for while and lock it back in. That leaves you with one chance at life. Make no mistakes. Probably this will make you feel the way I did when I was pushing that code to live. How uncertain I was, for I was all but a foster parent for it." Somehow creative literature gets the best of me at this point. I am surprised at myself. But again the moment itself is so dramatic.
"As you pass bricks in your pants, I am willing to reverse the probability. Lets just keep one bullet in the wheel and each of us takes a chance at pulling the trigger. Equal chance right? Here I go" and like a pro I pull the trigger to click at an empty chamber. That clicking sound sends an odd chill down his spine. He sweats incessantly as I see beads dripping off his nose and chin. "Your chance". He is trembling with fear, unable to comprehend what had lead to this extremity. Its not the hundredth blow that knocks down the wall, but the ninety nine that go before it as well. Someone ought to have told him that.
I pick up the revolver and place it on his temple. "I am making you an offer you cannot refuse", I say again with my Corleone imitation at its best. "I want an increment which I decide, a long term onsite and a promotion. Don't even try to make everyone in the team happy by passing these goodies like toffees to children. Its either all for me or a bullet for you. And should I pull the trigger, let me tell you I have booked this room for the next four hours. That's long after the last office creature has gone home. Take a look around. No one on the floor can see you or your plight. I have my aides telling people that you went home early due to health complaint so I doubt anyone will come looking for you. I will walk out of this place without raising any suspicion and come back later to reclaim my kill. The boot of my car is big enough to dispose two of your kind."
He is tongue-tied, white with fear but agrees to everything I say. He survives the day, learns some humility, understands that projects cant work without resources who are humans and not machines, relaxes some deadlines and even sponsors a movie outing for the team. A little hostility brings out the better side of him. I ponder, he isn't that bad, but high time he learns some people management lessons the hard way.
As for me I get what I want. Move to onsite of my choice at better designation, working diligently and enjoying life for the next six months until one fine day, I resign. Resign to join another IT giant because....
...I was given an offer I could not refuse. ;-)
Hell, this would be a dream appraisal for me. How about you?
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