Dial P for Power

“Power” is such an underrated word sometimes. I recently learned about myself that I get intimidated with anyone “powerful”.  Not just strength-wise but social position-wise, designation-wise and more often intellectual-wise.

I was called into the cabin of our Unit Head the other day at work to discuss some process related thing, and this chap… well… he’s 6 ft 5 or something, just sits there reclining in his chair and talks about major business decisions and process related things… and I’m sitting at the edge of my seat, shoulders bent, just cowering in front of him.  I was scared of him. He’s a big shot man… he has the power to throw me out anytime he wants, he can review my performance, play around with my remuneration package, ask me anything he wants and crack any joke he likes… and I like a loser take everything he gives. I just got this feeling of “stage fright” being in front of him.

I never thought someone could have such an influence on me. He’s probably drawing a salary every month equivalent to what I can earn in 2 years, but was it really the money aspect that got me intimidated? Or was it his status, his position… or his extraordinary height?

I think being tall just adds to the effect. It exhibits supremacy, greatness, and attitude. People tend to show a little more respect if you can see over their heads.

Some people have inner power that can control even the most difficult of circumstances. They are so strong, that nothing can shake them. They believe in themselves. They are the best. Nothing’s gonna take them down, be it tragedy, or comedy.

And after seeing the different forms of power in so many different people, I was searching for some power within me. And today, with strings unattached, mentally free, finally of the big question mark that was crowding my head the past few weeks, I felt the power.

The power of being me again. To use humour as a self defence mechanism, that hides everything inside and confuses the opponent to a dizzying phase. I was me again. I was whatever I wanted to be. I was suddenly, carefree, loony, goofy, cheery and just vintage Suheil again.

When you can be yourself completely, doing what you want, when you want, how you want, with nothing to stop you, in your work or your thoughts, then that’s what I call real power. The power to influence.

I believe in beng a good influence. One of my juniors in school started a chat conversation with me on facebook, not so long ago, and he said that this year he was being made house captain, like I was. He was about 4 or 5 years my junior, and he said that he wanted to be like me. I was apparently, the best captain of Neptune House ever.

I honestly don’t mind bragging about it because hey, those were probably the best days of my life and I took my job as captain really seriously. The house wasn’t all that great and needed a lifting of it’s spirit, and I can safely say that I managed to do a bit of it.

So, being first of all remembered by someone is such an honour, and for a reason like that… I was flying high on cloud no. 9

With great power, comes great responsibilty. Let’s hope I can maintain it always.

I can’t do this all on my own

Every now and then I used to feel bogged down at work. Things were getting monotonous and the work was getting boring. The drive and the passion to give my best had died. I sounded disinterested on calls. Customer’s opinions and expressions and needs didn’t matter to me anymore. I was lost.

I drank a lot of water. Because when you talk a lot, you get thirsty. And the trips to the pantry often involved meeting fellow colleagues and friends, and a small hi-hello discussion. That was all the time we had to ourselves. Breaks proved too small so we’d hurry to grab a bite to eat or call home or someone.

So life was pretty boring until one day, on one of my water trips, I met Mischelle. My ex Team Manager and current head of Quality and Training.

“How are you Suheil dear?”

“I’m good Mischelle, how are you?”

“Not bad, everything alright with you?”

“Um, yeah, everything’s ok…”

“You’re not your cheery, enthusiastic self on calls nowadays. That charm you had on calls is not there anymore for the last few weeks. Listening to your calls used to be so enjoyable. Is work bogging you down?”

“Well… sorta… the call flow’s really high nowadays and the complaints are never ending…”

“Take it easy Suheil baba… the call flow will come and go. You just stick to the basics and give it your best shot on every call. If YOU are going to start sounding like most others on calls… then that leaves us at Quality, nothing to look forward to at work.”

Those words… those kind kind words of compassion. That changed the way I looked at things from that day. That no matter what the situation was, there is always someone counting on you. For whatever reason. I don’t know if that was Mischelle’s managerial skills or her awesome ability to motivate, but those words were the exact amount of motivation I needed to get me back on my feet again. I went back smiling and became that cheerful enthusiastic agent on calls yet again.

I decided that come what may, I am not going to disappoint Mischelle anymore.

With that in mind, work didn’t seem too troublesome anymore. I did it happily.

Sometimes, we all need that extra push, that little note of encouragement and acknowledgement, that motivates us to keep going the distance.

Eye of the tiger, remember, the eye of the tiger.

Today, customer services. Tomorrow, the world.

I knew what it was. I was born from the ashes again.

Thank you Mischelle. Thank you very much.

An Ode To Me?

I was going through archives of poetry that I had written and collected over the years, and I came across this one piece I remember I needed for a school election. I hadn’t written this one, no… I couldn’t possible think of writing anything about myself. Therefore I asked my mum and dad to help me out.

Here’s what mum wrote:

Shy I’m not, but all say so.
An open book? No no no!
A friend in times of storm or hail,
A son who tries never to fail.
To give me a name… I’m M K Suheil!

Not bad at all. It was short and simple. My dad however, took some time in writing his version. He said he wanted it to sound right, and that the rhyming needed some more tweaking.

After about an hour, he finally showed it to me. This was what it read:

Faces become pale
Some are put in jail
Even creatures hide their tail
When on the road, is Suheil!

Some look frail
Others hit the pail
‘Coz they’re very scared to fail
When they meet Suheil! 

He never wants to fail
No matter storm or hail
For him, internet is chat or mail
A few words about our guy
None other than Suheil!

On BBC, CNN, Zee, and Fox,
One day you’ll watch him in that idiot box!
And then you must clap and hail
For him… Suheil!

I looked at him and he looked back with a question on his face, as if asking “So?”. I just said “Thanks Papa, but this isn’t me!”.

“Haha, of course it is, can’t you see the resemblance! This is by far better than what anyone could’ve written about you!”.

And then he laughed, heartily, like he had never done something so remarkably funny his entire life.

No points for guessing which one I selected.

CitiCard Blues

*This is purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to the working environment at CGSL is completely coincidental.*

I never thought work could be so inspiring. Felt bored a couple of days back at work, and wrote this.

CITICARD BLUES

Started the shift, and I’m bored already
Not in the mood for bmibaby
Not a good sign in the CoBrand bay
Don’t know how I’ll get through the day

Help Desk’s not answering
There’s no one on FEWS
It’s the middle of the week
And I’ve got the Monday blues

There are no simple calls
They’re all escalations
Interest reversals
And payment collections

Missed my first break coz
I queried a doubt
Fact of the matter was
I forgot to log out

So I called up TCC
And told them what had been
They said pretty bluntly
“Take it at 10.15″

So my break came late
But it went by so fast
Time played a prank on me
A trap it had cast

The call flow is less
So I’m thankful for that
But there’s no one near me
To gossip and chat

So the rest of the day
Was similarly boring
With nothing to do
When the calls started pouring

The customers complained
And my ears began to bleed
I was happiest only
When the time came for me to leave

I know I’ll be back
Tomorrow, the same worry
But I’ll run along home now
To be free and merry

There will be busier days
When I’ll have fun off the phones
At least I get by sometimes
Writing stupid silly poems

-Suheil Kapadia

HOW I LOVE THE ROADS

I’m scared more than ever now to ride on the roads. Especially after my accident last month. It’s terrifying, more than what it used to be when I started learning to drive. People here, I’ve learnt aren’t patient. Everyone’s in a hurry for no apparent reason. I say no apparent reason because I too become impatient when I’m trailing a slow driver when I have all the time in the world to get to where I have to go. They’ll flick you on the sides in cramped spaces, race you before they take a turn and expect you to start before the light turns green, and won’t stop even when it’s red.

 And it’s not only the motorists who get on my nerves. It’s the pedestrians and cyclists too sometimes. They won’t walk on the side of the road, won’t look both ways before they cross and certainly won’t move when you honk your way to glory behind them.

The cyclists, are they maniacs or what? The other day I was doing about 40 km/hr and this cyclist comes from the left (perpendicularly) at a junction, he sees me but won’t stop, continues cycling and almost hits me when our paths intersect. Intuition I guess, but the worst are the cyclists who take up the whole road and peddle as though the whole world were tied to their chains. Buses will cause a jam behind them everytime they stop at a bus station and you have to be careful not to get spit on from the passengers.

I’ve had, in total, 4 accidents. Got hurt in 3 of them. The first time happened when my brother and me were going home past Motcham Theatre. I was doing about 35 km/hr and I saw this auto guy at a distance in front of the theatre giving change back to the guy who rode with him. And it looked as though he saw me and waited till I went past him, but just as I rode next to him, he turned left, allowing me to crash into him. And so we did and I flew like I never flew before and my bro fell down too and I had no idea where the bike went. Luckily my brother didn’t get hurt but I grazed my hands and legs. Everything happened so fast, in a split second, that you don’t realise after you fall what actually hit you.

I got mad, I got up straight away, picked my bro and told him to stand on the side and went straight into the auto guy’s face and yelled my guts out at him. What was appalling was this guy didn’t show any signs of emotion, let alone being apologetic. He just casually said a few (nasty) things and drove off. How I wished I knew the language here, I’d have swore my ass out that day.

The second time was my fault actually. Going over the Egmore bridge in considerable moving traffic, I was doing about 30 km/hr and there was this Hyundai Getz in front of me which I was closely trailing. And for some reason, the driver braked and I slammed into him, giving him a dent on his bumper and somehow, a flat tyre. Again, I fell down, the bike’s foot rest went crooked and so did the handle bar. This guy however, was more civilised. He had his wife and kid inside and when he came out, I said sorry straight away, and he said that it was ok coz the auto in front of him came from the left with a sharp turn.

Damn these auto guys. I remember getting hurt pretty bad on my leg that day. In both these accidents, the bike wasn’t mine, but a friend’s. When I got mine, I got unlucky with only female drivers.

The first one wasn’t much of a big deal. I was turning right after picking my bro from school and there was this Sumo on my left turning as well and in close proximity, when a college girl tries to zip past between us, nudging me, and making us both fall. My bike got a solid wedge on the hood and I yelled at her like mad. I would have killed her had I not fallen in front of the Vepery Police Station. It was only the second day after I got my bike.

The 4th and final one (yet) happened last month. Coming down the Egmore bridge, going left towards Dasaprakash, the signal was green and there were a few cars on the left, the right lane being empty for those who wanted to go right. So I went in the middle of the road and as I entered the junction, this female from the left, came straight perpendicularly in front of me in a flash and I didn’t have time enough to brake, so… wham… she went flying too. Her scooty was torn, but she just had a few scratches on her face, while I landed on my back, the bike on top of me. I didn’t let go of the bike till the last moment coz I so didn’t want anything to happen to it again. But in vain. The rear foot rest broke off, the knee guard was bent, the hood had a few more scratches. This was my worst ever. I injured my back so badly, I stayed home the next five days, unable to bend, sit or stand.

It’s like a real life video game, where crashing is real and you can’t pause or restart with full health. You’ve gotta learn to dodge and tickle through traffic. You have to become offensive and rash if you wanna get through it. If you’re slow, you’ll always stay behind and you’ll never make it. You’ll end up getting the worst hits too because people on the road expect you to break the rules, they expect you to go with the flow and you’re in the wrong, if you do the right. I’m a totally different person when I drive. I swear left right and centre at anyone on the road. My friends give me the wheel just so they can enjoy the ride with me humouring them. 

Police? They’re just out to make money. Catch a few if they can for not wearing helmets, or turning left when there’s a no free left. It’s obvious they aren’t there to control traffic.

Don’t get me started on the roads. Potholes in the middle. When it’s dark and you can’t see very well even with your lights on, coz the oncoming traffic put their beamers on (bastards!) which is very blinding, a pothole will come out of nowhere and you can almost lose your balance going in one. Then you have these crazy road directions. One-ways everywhere, and no left or right turns at certain junctions when you so obviously need one. From Kilpauk Garden Road, I need to take a right to enter New Avadi Road but the junction only makes you go left. The right turn is blocked by the police barricades and to go right, I have to forcibly go left, take a huge turn and get back.

I’m lucky I like biking, or else I wouldn’t be able to stand traffic here. We sure have a long was to go as a country to first have developed roads, that don’t wash out with every rainfall, and secondly, to have proper driving schools to let out civilised drivers on the roads, not by people just bribing their way to get a licence.

Commuting in this city is a struggle, and by the end of it, you’re lucky to still be alive. Gone are those days when you could think about going for a peaceful drive. That’s the last thing you’d do. Roads were built to indicate civilisation, modernisation, power, trade, growth and freedom. Today, they’re built only if the condition is begging for mercy.

The worst part is, try as you might, nothing can be done to improve the roads. There’s no space to broaden them and no way of putting restrictions on the types of vehicles entering certain lanes. It’s going to be the same and it’s just going to get worse.

People will honk, flick the lights and put the beam in your face, and you just have to get on with it.

 I’m on a highway to hell

And I’m going down… all the way.