A cousin from the US paid me a visit the other day. “Who takes care of your kids on working days?” I asked him innocently, for he had two cute kids full of curiosity. “I work from home and go to my office one day in a month. When I go to my office, my wife works from home,” he replied.
I was puzzled. I was given no opportunity to work from home. In fact, I commuted to my workplace with palpitations in my heart. At my first job, if I reached office late on three days in a month, a day’s leave was deducted. I could never be sure about the punctuality of suburban trains. If a commuter fell from an overcrowded footboard, the train was delayed. Signals and monsoon rains also delayed trains while going to work.
My department was on the third floor and the personnel department was on the first floor. If I was late by a few minutes, I used to take the stairs. I could thus interrupt the peon carrying the attendance register to the personnel department and affix my initials. Once I dashed to the HR clerk’s desk and with his connivance, affixed my signature in the attendance register before he could put the ‘absent mark’ against my name.
In another office where I spent a few years, the boss used to be a terror. He believed that to extract the absolute obedience of his staff, he should take away the attendance register to his table so that the employees who turned up just a few minutes late would be forced to stand before him for a dressing down.
Once, he bawled at me, “What is this? How can I run this office if you people come late to office?” I espied his swimming shorts drying on a sofa in the room. A plate from which he had eaten his breakfast from the canteen was on a side table. Obviously, he had travelled in the office car and after a swim in a club, had his morning nourishment from the office canteen that was also controlled by him.
I was in a mood to fool my strict boss and said, “I came early today and was preparing the presentation for today’s conference in the computer room. Since I was immersed in the time-bound task, I forgot to put my initials in the attendance register.” The boss was flummoxed for a reply and allowed me to mark my attendance in the stationery lying on his table.
P Subramanian
Email: mailpsubramanian@gmail.com