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The
notice period - commonly identified as that periodic
reference from the time an employee expresses his
desire to move onto bigger designations, better remuneration
schemes, faster computers, enhanced prospects of attractive
coworkers or quite simply a better window seat, to
the actual moment that he exits the office edifice.
But there is a lot more that transpires during this
transition that is usually glossed over. For this
is probably the only period that employees actually
enjoy the rare freedom of expressing their 'brutally
frank' opinions without fear of their ramifications.
"One
who hands in his slip, will henceforth act as captain
of the ship," the hushed oriental accent, the
express delivery of the tea cup and Chai-La (the mystical
Chinese tea boy) had disintegrated into the door knob
of Vikas's cabin, leaving Ram baffled as usual about
the early morning sermon.
Vikas,
stormed out of his cabin, and headed off to smoke,
clearly sporting (if that's the right word) the kind
of look someone would have if they had run into something
very unexpected, very unpleasant and rather sharp.
Karan
strolled out with the air of a man who had just won
the lottery. There was a song on his lips that he
was humming rather tunelessly, almost on purpose.
Karan was also an Account Executive like Ram. Extremely
shy and reserved at most times, terrified of Vikas
at others, and unanimously the butt of all jokes emanating
from the creative department all through the day.But
today, almost mysteriously, there was an air of supreme
confidence about him.
"I
have quit man!' he said thumping Ram of the back with
unwarranted enthusiasm, "going to another agency
at a much better salary and getting a promotion as
well."
"Hey,
that's really nice. How long is your notice period?"
"Just
about long enough to make the losers here rue their
existence." He chuckled with sinister intent
and strode off to flirt with some girls from the creative
department, in whose direction he would scarcely have
dared to breathe earlier.
Vikas
returned, ashen faced, "we need to get a handover
from Karan, he is going and things should continue
to be in control even on his accounts," then
like a bad memory leaping to catch up with the mood
of things he digressed, "he called me a pompous
ass, do you think I am a pompous ass?" Ram choked
on his tea, expertly disguising the triumphant chuckle.
"No certainly not." He replied keeping his
straightest face possible, an exercise that was proving
to be immensely painful.
"Ok
call the others in the conference room, get both the
creative and media as well, lets take stock of the
business."
An hour later PP (the creative director of the exaggerated
moustache fame), Tanya (the 'south Mumbai' copywriter),
Mumbles (the reticent art director) and Planimus (the
gladiatorial media planning head) joined Vikas and
Ram in the conference room.
"Ok
why are we here? And who are we waiting for?"
boomed PP in his customary 'louder than life' style.
"We
are waiting for Karan to discuss the status on his
account," began a strangely subdued Vikas, "and
here he is."
Karan
had entered the room with a saunter that would have
done a hormonically challenged male puma proud.
"That's
what you have always been good at Vikas. Stating the
blinding obvious," he began with the urgency
of a pinch hitter going for it.PP exploded into peals
of laughter, and kept ferociously drumming the table
with his excessively large palms, generally causing
the concerned carpenter stress wherever he would have
been.
"And
for that matter, PP, all your work is pretentious
and largely passé. I yawned all through the
last TV commercial you created, only the last bit
woke me up and that was the logo," remarked Karan,
enticing a lightning quick culmination of all mirth
on the PP front. PP sat silent and stunned, almost
like someone had jabbed him in the solar plexus.
Vikas,
historically it must be said, for the one and only
time in his career almost felt a pang of sympathy
for his old foe.
Ram
had begun to imagine the whole meeting as a video
game in which Karan was the Terminator.
"What's
wrong with you Karan, you silly boy?" cooed Tanya
in an almost suicidal manner (in Ram's gaming theory)
and the Terminator struck.
"Lets
start with what's right with you Tanya, and my guess
is that you would struggle to fill up the back of
a bus ticket in bold on that front. Or have you ever
even traveled in public transport to know the enormity
of the insult that you have just endured?" Karan
almost was basking in his own eloquence at this point.
Planimus
rose from his table to begin to speak, 'fatal error'
thought Ram. He was composing in his mind the choicest
insults that he could gather at such short notice,
and was about to unleash them when the Terminator
beat him to the draw.
"And
you, Planimus have perfected a unique art," began
Karan and paused.Planimus was so taken aback that
some kind words might actually flow his way; that
he completely lost the momentum of the thing.
"The
art of taking something utterly simple and making
it mind bogglingly complicated," completed Karan
with a sardonic smile. 'Hell, he is playing with his
kill,' thought Ram to himself.
An
uneasy silence followed, as the various participants
were busy tending to their battered egos. At that
moment the President chose to pop his head in, in
his normal cherubic manner. 'Jackpot?' thought Ram.
"I
say Karan what makes you leave?" asked the President,
as there was an inward groan in the entire room.
"Many
things, but mostly you. I am almost tempted to tell
the client in what poor hands their account is. Be
it your directionless leadership, your confused values,
your limited understanding of a subject called advertising,
Your sycophantic culture that is now festering within
the confines of these walls, your fixation with skirts,
I could go on but I think more important things like
lunch beckon," concluded Karan with smug satisfaction
and strolled out of the room with purposeful poise.
The
President flopped into a chair, and looked at the
ashen faces around him."What…what was that?"
he asked, still unable to string thoughts coherently."The
Notice Period Syndrome," answered Planimus with
an all-knowing sign, the others were still missing
any sensation in their extremities.
"Lunch
anyone?" asked the President, and all the others
trailed out of the room, leaving Ram to clear the
aftermath as usual.
"Get
him out as fast as is humanly possible, settle his
dues, and give him what he wants, just get him out.
I don't want the others following his example,"
Ram heard the President tell Vikas as they walked
towards life, sustenance and people who would say
more pleasant things about them.
Ram
just closed his eyes for a moment to shut his mental
video game, when he felt the tea cup in his fingers
again and the oriental drawl whisper in his ears,
"The only one in an office who is brave, is one
who is leaving for another job or the grave,"
for once it made sense.
Ram
opened his eyes just in time to see Chai-La vanish
with an air of resignation.
 The
writer is Vice President, Rediffusion DY&R. He
is also the patron saint of Juhu Beach United, a football
club that celebrates the 'unfit, out of breath media
professional of today'. You can write to him at (vinaykanchan@hotmail.com).
(The
views expressed here are those of the author and Indiantelevision.com
need not necessarily subscribe to the same)
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