Ravi's Work Ethic

Summer of '07 I was working in Chennai in a customer service role. Three days of the week, I would travel close to 60km  to a client factory to watch over our products being used in their assembly lines. My only companion during these travels was the driver of the company car, Ravi.

Chennai summers; if you haven't lived it, you have no idea what it's like. We never talked much. Exchange of pleasantries was a long abandoned exercise, there was a mutual understanding that these weren't good days for either of us. My role was dealing with unhappy customers (neat graphic on customer service here) and Ravi had to wait in the heat, in the uncovered parking lot of the factory, till the end of the day.

Still there he would be, every morning,  in his sparkling white uniform, flashing two rows of sparkling white teeth in his sparkling white Ambassador.

One day, towards the end of summer and the close to the end of my stint in that role, both of us were uncharacteristically loquacious. I asked him, "Ravi, how come you are so cheerful every morning?"

I will always remember Ravi's reply, "Sir, every morning while I put on my uniform, I tell myself, today nobody will be unhappy because of me, nobody will reach their destination late, I will drive safe and I will come back to my wife and kids for dinner. With every minute I spend at this job I am buying my family food and security. My father taught me this and I have been doing this for ten years now."

We Are Like This Only

Beg pardon to those few who read my blog. The recession's been keeping me wrought up with upheavals of every kind. Like they say, if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans. All I have been doing for the past couple of months is realise how painfully bitter-sweet this statement really is.
My current post is an incident that happened while I was working in Chennai some years back, and had been at the back of my mind for a long time. I told myself that day, that this is definitely blog worthy, but never really got down to writing it. So here goes.

I was coming back from a customer visit and passing through Chennai city. The oppressive humidity and heat was getting to me and I kept dozing off in between. But halfway through the trip something happened and I was giggling the rest of the way.
Somewhere around Anna Nagar my car came to a halt at a traffic signal and I was jolted out of my doze. I lowered the window to let in some fresh air. There was an auto rickshaw standing elbow to elbow with my Ambassador, and in it was an auto driver who looked like he had just stepped out of a Rajnikant look alike competition. The lone passenger was a teenage bag packer, advertising her American nationality with a can of Coke in one hand and a packet of Lays in another. In the short span our vehicles were standing next to each other at the traffic signal, I managed to overhear the following conversation.
Girl: [Heavy American accent] "You know any place I can get traveller's cheques."
Auto Driver: [Quizzical expression]
Girl: "You know, international cheques"
Auto Driver: [Trying several pronunciations of the last word] "Sheckes, Seckes, SEX!!!!
[enlightenment!] International Sex! Ah I am knowing madam!! Lots of places!! American
Sex, Indian Sex, Chinese Sex!"
The traffic lights turned to green and the auto rickshaw zipped passed, before my driver had even put his foot to the gas, carrying its visibly thrilled driver and a slightly alarmed looking passenger.

Towards Gumudipundi...

Don't blame me guys, I am seeing everything through sepia tinted glasses.



Things I miss about my stay in Chennai:

The local train rides.
The walk back from work, feeling all angsty.
The weekends in Thiruvanmyur, with home cooked food, TV, movies and general masti.
"Sandeep, where are you?"
Post dinner discussions at Bachu da, munching on "Bournvita".
The Cookouts.
The Philosophical discussions.
The Cribroom.
Truth or Dare.
Tomato Soup in Marketing Office.
Samosas at South Gate.
The Ping Pong Consultants.
The Third Man who was never interested in the match.
The Parties.
The People.
Landmark.
The Grand AUT Lunches.
The Masala Peanuts.
TVT Times
Snooker & Pool Matches
Sitting in my porch, sipping on Apple Juice, solving The Hindu crossword, listening to my flatmate strumming on his guitar.
Zara's.
Sathyam.

The Amul hoarding near Spencer's that changed every week.
Never Trust a Skinny Chef

There's possibly loads more. Please feel free to refresh my memory.
It wasn't all pleasant, but when you look back, it was kind of fun too.
I'll borrow lines from Greenday and say,
For what it's worth, it was worth all the while.