As I've mentioned before, my company is a great company. They know that most workers tend to feel drowsy after a nice heavy lunch at the cafeteria or after sitting in front of the computer for 4 or 5 hours. So what did they do? They went and bought chairs that actively discourage people from falling asleep on them. Good for the company, bad for me.
I really hate these chairs. Why? Because I'm of the old school. I like my chairs to have a seat, a back, four legs and nothing more. In case such a chair is not available, I'll prefer a rock to these new fangled pseudo-chairs, which you need a degree in rocket science to actually make it sittable in. These chairs have a gazillion levers and buttons. One to raise the seat, one to lower it, another to tilt it, one to raise the arm rests, one to change the inclination of the back and countless others. I suspect that these aren't mere chairs, they're actually living alien space ships capable of faster than light travel. They're just lurking around here in disguise, gathering data about life on earth. One day, we'll all come to our offices to see that all our chairs have gone. Instead of celebrating, as would be our natural reaction on seeing this happy occurance, we must realize instead that the end is near. All those spaceship-chairs have zoomed away to their home planet to bring back hordes of deadly fighter chairs to take over Planet Earth and enslave the human race. So treat those chairs with respect and kindness. After all, you can always badmouth them when they aren't looking.
Anyway, coming back to the point,I generally feel sleepy around 4am, after which I like to take a good solid nap until around 6am when the first buses start. My work gets over at 2.30am usually, so no, I do not sleep on company time, in case you were wondering. On the first day of my night shift, as I settled down into this alien looking chair to catch my Zzzz's I made the startling discovery that they weren't meant to be slept in. But I tried my best, and after a few intimate encounters with the floor, decided that I should look elsewhere for comfort. So I slept for around half an hour on the table, which really wasn't comfortable at all, and then spent the remaining time walking around bleary eyed and cursing loudly to myself.
On the second day, I realized that the urge to sleep at around 3.30 to 4am is a natural inborn human urge. What else would explain the loudly snoring guy sitting in the cubicle 2 spaces ahead of me or the three or four other tireless IT executives minutely examining the floor in one corner of the office? So, on the second day, I did a bit of reconnaissance and observed how more experienced night shifters manage to sleep. And I learnt quite a bit. For example, I learnt that if you weren't squeemish about sleeping on the floor, you could just turn over one of these horrid chairs and use the backrest as a pillow. But I don't want to sleep on the floor. Not after some of my team members claim to have seen rats in the office. I don't know if they were pulling my leg, but I really think that them pulling my leg is much more preferable to having a rat biting your toe off. So I had to figure out a way to sleep on this chair. After many vain efforts, I resigned myself to the bleary eyed-cursing loudly routine which I seemed to be getting good at. Thus went the second day.
And on the third day, much experimenting, and a few bruised elbows later, I figured out the most optimal method to use the chair so that it doesnt hurt you when you sleep. It didnt involve AutoCAD drawings, but it almost did. The position being too complicated to explain without diagrams, I shall not even try. Suffice to say that I slept like a baby. So soundly infact, that my Team Lead came and woke me up at around 6.30am when he came for his shift.
And I've been sleeping happily everafter. Give me two of these horrible chairs and a desk, and I can sleep and dream in a way that you can't even imagine. So if you ever happen to be at the Satyam Perungudi office some time after 2.30am (God forbid), and you hear a loud grating noise shaking the building, do not fear.
Its only me, snoring happily.
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
The Poor Lost Soul.
Yet another day, in the US. Yet another night shift for a poor lost soul in India with only pictures of his client company's products to comfort him.
Every evening at around 5pm, he sets out, risking the heat, the humidity, the traffic and the general bloody mindedness of most of the people around him rushing to get home. He trudges along the paths and dusty roads towards the bus stop so that he can catch a bus or an auto to office. Along comes an auto driver, one of those rascally bandits who specialize in daylight robbery, and asks him where he wants to go.
"Perungudi" says our poor lost soul.
"Ukkaru" says the auto driver.
Poor lost soul looks momentarily lost as his befuddled brain flips through the very thin tamil-malayalam-english dictionary in his head.
The rascally bandit begins to understand that this here is no common person. Here is a victim ripe for robbery. He begins to use sign language to indicate that the poor lost soul should step into his parlour.
Poor lost soul understands that the auto driver wants him to get in and sit.
He asks "etharey aakum?" And from the auto driver's blank look, realizes that no matter what people say, most of the really useful words are not the same in malayalam and tamil.
His tired brain begins rifling through the dictionary again.
Finally, he says "Evalo?"
Upon which the auto driver says "Enpathu rupaa, 80 rupees." and begins to recite that great essay written by the Father of All Auto Drivers Everywhere. It involves a lot of sign language as well. The poor lost soul grasps a few concepts; like "heavy traffic", "very long distance" etc.
The poor lost soul takes out his ragged bulging purse and begins the arduous task of finding money in between all those ATM slips and bus tickets. That is when he remembers he did'nt get his salary this month due to "procedural delays in the processing of his reimbursements." and that he's a very poor man, unless people start accepting ATM slips as currency. He sighs. He looks at the auto longingly and signs to the auto driver, that he, being a poor man, cannot afford 80 rupees. He realizes that some concepts like "poor" and "afford" do not translate easily to sign language. He sighs again and walks away. The auto driver curses him for having wasted his time and drives off. But the poor lost soul is not concerned about curses especially if they're in tamil. He doesnt understand them anyway. But nevertheless, his brain takes out another small, tightly bound book with the words "Restricted - under Parental Guidance Only" in large red letters on the cover, and files away the tamil curses for future reference and possible usage. He ends up standing at the bus stop for another 45min before the bus comes. Thus begins our poor lost souls day.
Another day. Another podi dosa for dinner. Another 10 or 20 so-called-coffees that night. Another million people with a zillion problems who expect you to solve them.
And that is only the tip of the iceberg. To really enjoy this blockbuster superhit show, watch this channel everyday on weekdays, at 5pm. Cry with the poor lost soul, laugh with him (rarely, and mostly cynically" and sweat with him (no puns or innuendos intended. This is Chennai. Here, sweating, like breathing, is considered one of the vital signs of life. Any person who does not sweat in Chennai is probably an alien wearing human skin.) Live the life of a Support Engineer.
PS: Actually, its really not that bad. Work is great, but my social life sucks like an old man with no teeth trying to eat an apple. But things will improve. Let me just get my bike. The new black pulsar 200 that has my name written on it. Yes, i did that on the fuel tank, when i went to their showroom and the security gaurd wasnt looking. I tried to rub it off, but it didnt go. And then...
Every evening at around 5pm, he sets out, risking the heat, the humidity, the traffic and the general bloody mindedness of most of the people around him rushing to get home. He trudges along the paths and dusty roads towards the bus stop so that he can catch a bus or an auto to office. Along comes an auto driver, one of those rascally bandits who specialize in daylight robbery, and asks him where he wants to go.
"Perungudi" says our poor lost soul.
"Ukkaru" says the auto driver.
Poor lost soul looks momentarily lost as his befuddled brain flips through the very thin tamil-malayalam-english dictionary in his head.
The rascally bandit begins to understand that this here is no common person. Here is a victim ripe for robbery. He begins to use sign language to indicate that the poor lost soul should step into his parlour.
Poor lost soul understands that the auto driver wants him to get in and sit.
He asks "etharey aakum?" And from the auto driver's blank look, realizes that no matter what people say, most of the really useful words are not the same in malayalam and tamil.
His tired brain begins rifling through the dictionary again.
Finally, he says "Evalo?"
Upon which the auto driver says "Enpathu rupaa, 80 rupees." and begins to recite that great essay written by the Father of All Auto Drivers Everywhere. It involves a lot of sign language as well. The poor lost soul grasps a few concepts; like "heavy traffic", "very long distance" etc.
The poor lost soul takes out his ragged bulging purse and begins the arduous task of finding money in between all those ATM slips and bus tickets. That is when he remembers he did'nt get his salary this month due to "procedural delays in the processing of his reimbursements." and that he's a very poor man, unless people start accepting ATM slips as currency. He sighs. He looks at the auto longingly and signs to the auto driver, that he, being a poor man, cannot afford 80 rupees. He realizes that some concepts like "poor" and "afford" do not translate easily to sign language. He sighs again and walks away. The auto driver curses him for having wasted his time and drives off. But the poor lost soul is not concerned about curses especially if they're in tamil. He doesnt understand them anyway. But nevertheless, his brain takes out another small, tightly bound book with the words "Restricted - under Parental Guidance Only" in large red letters on the cover, and files away the tamil curses for future reference and possible usage. He ends up standing at the bus stop for another 45min before the bus comes. Thus begins our poor lost souls day.
Another day. Another podi dosa for dinner. Another 10 or 20 so-called-coffees that night. Another million people with a zillion problems who expect you to solve them.
And that is only the tip of the iceberg. To really enjoy this blockbuster superhit show, watch this channel everyday on weekdays, at 5pm. Cry with the poor lost soul, laugh with him (rarely, and mostly cynically" and sweat with him (no puns or innuendos intended. This is Chennai. Here, sweating, like breathing, is considered one of the vital signs of life. Any person who does not sweat in Chennai is probably an alien wearing human skin.) Live the life of a Support Engineer.
PS: Actually, its really not that bad. Work is great, but my social life sucks like an old man with no teeth trying to eat an apple. But things will improve. Let me just get my bike. The new black pulsar 200 that has my name written on it. Yes, i did that on the fuel tank, when i went to their showroom and the security gaurd wasnt looking. I tried to rub it off, but it didnt go. And then...
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