Oh yeah – it was one of those memory etchings – happened one fine winter morning a few years back. I remember lounging around in my chair a day after we sent out the final deliverable or hoped our TL figured which button to click on that ftp browser to do the complex task of transferring one zip file across the seas to a different server. My serious doubts arising from a melodramatic scene that had unfolded the previous evening at the EXACT precise moment, my colleagues, and I, bags on our shoulders, were headed for the stairs to leave for the day. And why not? We had zipped the tested, retested, re re tested files, written the polite informative email to our client well before lunch, and spent the rest of the afternoon waiting in vain for the green signal to click that button that would send this zip file zipping through the network across the five continents to an obscure server in Long Island. We forgot that the only way to get the attention of our otherwise surreptitious TL was to try and slink off at 6. And sure enough at 6:15 in true blue army style, we were unceremoniously commandeered back from atop the stairs.
Six impatient ladies and one belligerent TL. Six ladies shaking their heads one by one as to who would stay on until that elusive magical moment when the planets orbit in our favor and our TL signals us to click the button for ftping that zip file.
Eventually, grabbing the first moment we had, each one of us made a mad dash for the stairs, hurtling ourselves mindlessly down the treacherous steps. In less than a millisecond, all six of us had vamoosed. It's only the next morning, the fateful morning that we figured much to our amusement that not one of us had obliged our stomping TL to stay on until the wee hours awaiting his royal command.
So there I was that morning minding my own business, quietly checking out all the jokes and junk in my mailbox, humming to I Believe by Cher, and listening in to the occasional quirky observation or comment coming from the neighboring workstations. At one such quirky one, our TL's boss walked in to inquire about our whereabouts last evening after six!
In his quiet and earnest attempt to unravel the events of the previous evening, we were herded into the BallPark. Much later is when it dawned on me why BallPark was called Ball Park. What started off as a quiet recall of the sequence of events that fired off the mutiny soon threatened to turn to graver issues of team responsibilities, gender biases, human insensitivities, causal analysis of disobedience etc. Soon our TL's boss felt lonely and fled to return with our TL in toe to be joined soon after by my TL's boss's boss. What ensued thereon I can only tell through my informal yet intense Minutes of the Meeting. When the meeting turned to gender war I've yet to figure out. 3 men to my left, 3 women to my right and an intense discussion on how women are more dedicated and hard working and late stays are no indication of good work. There were allegations, defenses, and counter allegations hurled with the intensity volume set to Extreme.
Women – We finish our work on time because we are efficient and don't waste time. Men – If men put in more hours it is fair we move ahead sooner. Women – Men put in more hours because they have extended sutta breaks and coffee breaks. They goof around all day and pretend intense work at 10. Men – What do you mean? You think men don't have a life after 6? They too want to go home on time! Women – Life after 6? Like what? Do they go home and cook? Look after babies? The bachelors here don't have families outside office much less a life! We finish our work by six because we have tons of work to do at home. Men - So why should men stay back late and click buttons to ftp? Just because they are men??
Quite right there I daresay. Clicking a button on an ftp browser if you happen to be really stupid and ignorant does require balls. What if the button didn't work? What if you got a rude error message saying unkind things about your intelligence?? What if your boss looked over your shoulder and read those unkind things and got to know??? Eeeee!
Clicking buttons on an ftp browser requires the stabling and intelligent presence of women if not the presence of mind.
And so it continued. I mutely watched the tennis match for a while looking left then right and then left again. Only when my neck protested did I bend it to quietly record my observations as stars and moons and Halloween pumpkins on the inviting white of my notebook. I did once in a while look up at the inviting white of the ceiling – better to exercise the neck while rolling your eyes methinks :D
But it was beginning to get dull and I was bored. That's when things took a new turn. That's when it happened. I had to quickly look up again from my notebook to register what was unfolding. My TL's lachrymal tale of woe!! When my teary-eyed not-so-tall TL was engulfed in the huge well-built embrace of my TL's boss's boss and consoled with much tutting. His 'nobody loves me' trip had me tutting too. I almost wiped a tear from the corner of my left eye.
That's when the Reiki-in-10-minutes session started. The lights in BallPark were switched off we were asked to hold hands to let the excess emotion drain
