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?