CHENNAI : The lockdown is associated with another word beginning with ‘L’ and is equally unpleasant: Layoff. With the worldwide medical turmoil, comes domestic, mental and economic trauma. As most organisations are trying to balance their sheets, my mind flashes back to the past, throwing up vivid images of an interesting encounter with a senior colleague. A mentor to many who worked with him, he was sharp, witty and had a disturbing calmness about him. He was at the helm when the organisation decided to go for a rejig and handed over an insignificant portfolio to him. In professional parlance, we call it being side-lined. Basically that was the organisation’s way of asking him to pack off.
Many of us, who reported to him, were devastated. The reporting line-up changed, and he was no longer our leader. I have carefully mentioned the term leader here, because that is the term that differentiated him from being a boss. Pack off he did, within a month. It was his last working day, and I went in to meet him, my heart strangely feeling a pinch. This was because he had defined the workplace dynamics, where our team looked forward to work, did not mind coming on off-days, rushed to beat the deadline and had a sense of pride to what we brought out. It was a no-fuss last day.
Those were not the social media days, and so, only a few people knew that it was his last day at work. He had been in the organisation for more than 16 years. There was no farewell, no goodbyes. He was packing his collection of books and a few Time magazine copies in a cardboard box, when I knocked and walked in. His smile had no sadness, and certainly no disappointment. I tried to smile back, braving the tears that threatened to hoodwink me. The silence of our smiles was interrupted by the burring of the air-conditioner that kept rhythm with the fluctuating power (pun very much intended). “I would like to give you a farewell with a few team members. Will you and your wife please come for lunch?” I asked. “Sure. When?”
“Will Friday suit you?” “Sure”. The invite was done. But I was still waiting for him to say something. “Don’t look so sad,” he finally said. “The dynamics of every organisation changes with time. It has changed now, and I find no place in the new scheme of things. But that does not reflect my capability. It’s just that the organisation also needs to reinvent itself and has to refurbish its leadership.” ‘Isn’t he even a bit disappointed that he has served this place for so long?’ I thought to myself. As if reading my mind, he said, “I am not disappointed. And, you, too, need not get so emotional.”
I shuffled on my seat sheepishly for being so transparent. “The problem is when we start taking our position for granted, and throw our weight around needlessly, spawning insecurities and jealousy. When you know the organisation we work for decides what is best in the given circumstances, we can be detached from that power and just enjoy till we last there,” he said, while handing me a tissue from his box. It is people like him who keep reminding me that the corridor of work-place is not a race track, but a space to gain wisdom.