24. IIT-D: AN EMOTIONAL CONNECT (YEAR 1975)

STRESS, SUCCESS AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN

The Highs and Lows of A Woman’s Journey in the Corporate World

CARE: This is Chapter 24 of my book Stress, Success and Everything In-Between. These are individual anecdotes but to understand the professional journey in totality, I would recommend reading the book right from Chapter 01 onwards.

On the first day of joining the IIT Branch in March 1974, I was assigned checking of the Current Account Day Book. While checking the Day Book in the afternoon, I started confirming the balances of the accounts in the ledger by doing summations of debit and credit entries separately. 

One of my counter clerks, who had done a company secretary course, noticed it and chuckled at my inability to work on debit and credit entries in parallel, which only seasoned accountants could do. 

“What a pity! These days, officers do not even know how to arrive at the balance without doing summations,” he said aloud to no one in particular. Obviously, he was ridiculing me. I heard the remark and squirmed inside. But instead of taking offence, I asked him, “How else would you do it?” He happily obliged and taught me the method of criss-cross calculation and quickly reaching the balance when there were multiple debit and credit entries. What began as an initial ridicule swiftly transformed into the warmth and bonhomie of a team.

As our interactions increased, my team of three, Harcharan, Satta and Khurmi, started enquiring about my personal details. When they learnt that my husband was from Punjab, they tried talking to me in Punjabi and insisted that I respond in Punjabi, which I could not as I was still trying to learn the language. But they truly enjoyed engaging in animated conversation with my husband in Punjabi when he came to pick me up in the evening and patiently waited for me to finish the Day Book checking. My husband also happily shared with them his experiences of studying at IIT-D as a student.

 

The bonhomie strengthened to the extent that if I needed to leave early on a particular day, they would write the Day Book simultaneously while posting the vouchers and give me everything ready and totalled as soon as I closed my scroll at 2.00pm. I could conveniently leave before 2.30pm after finishing my work for the day,

 

One memorable day, I was merrily driving down to the branch on my two-wheeler, a Vespa scooter, when unbeknown to me, the oil seal leaked, and the brake failed. I loved to drive fast, and on that day, I was actually driving recklessly. As I approached the IIT crossing where Mehrauli Road (now called Shri Aurobindo Marg) and Outer Ring Road crossed each other, the traffic lights turned red. I quickly applied the brake, but to my utter dismay, it did not work. I hurriedly pressed and released the pedal multiple times, but the brake did not work. Yes, it had failed. At that fast speed and in the thick of heavy traffic, it was impossible to bring the scooter to a halt by shifting gears.

It was peak office time. The bumper-to-bumper traffic of cars and two-wheelers was heading towards me from both sides. I had no control over my scooter as the vehicles whizzed past me. I could visualize what lay in store for me. Anticipating the worst that could happen, my mouth dried up with stress. I had no choice but to continue riding my uncontrolled scooter, which had barged into the speeding traffic. Governed by my survival instinct, I tried to take control, manoeuvring my Vespa in a zig-zag manner, ducking a car here and a motorcycle there. I heard many a screeching of brakes and saw some two-wheelers moving in a whiplash manner to save me. 

 

My heart raced, but luck was on my side. In less than a minute, which felt like an eternity, I had narrowly avoided a catastrophic collision. It was perhaps the combined luck of my one-year-old son and husband and the blessings of my parents that saved me from an inevitable fatal accident. 

Having moved away from the busy crossing safe and sound, I relaxed, loosened my grip on the accelerator and tried to reduce the speed. Once I entered the safe and virtually no-traffic zone of IIT-D unscathed, I breathed easy. 

Soon, I reached the branch. The scooter had slowed down considerably but would not stop. I consciously turned it towards the building, housing our branch and managed to stop by hitting it gently against the wall.

Hearing the thud, all the staff members quickly ran toward me. All were worried and thought that I had lost control of my scooter. I was touched by their genuine concern and explained to them what had happened and that I had consciously hit the wall. All wanted me to confirm that I was not hurt in any way. One of them called a mechanic to get my scooter repaired. Their actions mirrored the unity of a family genuinely worried for one of their own. I felt overwhelmed by their care and concern. 

 

A year passed, and I was transferred to the South Extension Part II branch as an Accountant. The Branch Manager did not want to relieve me. But a few days later, the Regional Manager reprimanded the poor man for non-compliance with instructions. Pissed off on being fired, he quickly handed me the relieving letter in the forenoon instead of waiting until the end of the day. The staff had no time to arrange a farewell for me. 

As I wound up my desk and got up to leave, my team of three, Harcharan, Khurmi and Satta, said they would not let me go without a farewell. As it was business hours and the branch was bustling with activity, the counters could not be left unattended. They asked Monga ji to attend the counters and asked me to quickly come to the tiny canteen room where we used to have lunch. The four of us sat there silently, ate samosas and gulab-jamuns and gulped tea. Nobody uttered a word, but our tear-filled eyes conveyed the depth of our emotions. 

After quickly finishing tea, we walked to where my scooter was parked.  Harcharan kick-started my scooter. With the parting weighing heavy on my heart and a lump in my throat, I rode towards a new chapter of my professional life, and the trio silently returned to their desks, wiping their tears. 

Marked by simple gestures and unspoken words, this was perhaps the most emotional farewell in my career spanning nearly four decades.

(To be continued......)

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