37. THE MEMBERSHIP OF THE LUNCH ROOM (YEAR 1978)

STRESS, SUCCESS AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN

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

CARE: This is Chapter 37 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.

Neeta, Ananya, Manushi, Sarojini and I stood on the ground floor of the building, waiting for the torrential rains to stop. If we ventured to walk up to the old building where we used to go for lunch, we would have certainly got drenched. Neeta said, “Why do we have to go to that building every day when there is a Lunch Room in our building? Can we not join the Lunch Room on the top floor?”

“Is it not for the seniors only? Who will allow us entry there?” said Sarojini, who had the longest stint in that office.

“No, it is not true. So many officers of our grade go there regularly, for example, RP Nautiyal, SS Tewari, BD Arora, and TC Bhalla. Let me think. I can recall many more,” Manushi blurted out their names.

“OK, girls. Let’s go tomorrow and request the membership of the top floor Lunch Room,” one of us suggested.

“Why tomorrow? We will go there today itself,” Manushi was not known for her patience.

“The rain has stopped. Let us go and have our lunch in the old building now. Otherwise, even that will be over,” Ananya, the most practical, had her feet firmly on the ground.

As soon as the lunch was over, we decided to meet the Officer-in-charge of the Senior Officers’ Lunch Club in the afternoon. At 4pm sharp, all five of us marched to the 13th floor and assembled in the stairwell before approaching the right official.
 

As the Officer-in-Charge was a very senior officer, an officer who sat outside his room stopped us. On hearing the purpose of our meeting, he shook his head vigorously from left to right and uttered condescendingly, “No. That is not possible. I handle the Lunch Club also. Women are not allowed to become its members.”

“But why? If women can work here, why can't they join the lunch club?” asked Ananya. 

“We want to meet the Officer-in-charge,” we demanded firmly in a chorus.

He went inside and returned after fifteen minutes to inform us, “Sir is busy. Please come tomorrow.” 

“It has taken him fifteen minutes to find out that his boss is busy. Surely, they were working out strategies to keep us at bay,” Neeta quipped as we walked back to our respective floors. 

While walking down, one of us asked, ‘What is this officer’s name?”

While others shrugged their shoulders, Ananya, the creative one, suggested, “Let us call him Nandi. He protects his master from us just as Nandi sits outside the Shivalaya.” The idea appealed to all of us. 

The next day, all five of us were again there at the same time, and Nandi told us curtly, “Boss has gone for a meeting. You may come some other day.”

We were there again the next day. “I am sure the Nandi will tell us that there are no vacancies or that officers of our grade are not allowed to join or some such thing. He surely is thinking of some solid reason to keep us away,” I said while huffing and puffing as I climbed up from the 5th to the 13th floor. 

The daily drill continued for many weeks, and the Nandi continued to invent a new excuse every time to prevent us, the women officers, from meeting his boss. We were also resolute and had adopted entry into the lunchroom as our single-point programme. “Same time, same place!” had become our daily mantra.  

Unable to withstand the pressure generated by our daily visits, Mr Harsh Vardhan (name changed), a Staff Officer Grade 1, finally agreed to meet us. As we put forward our case, his reply shocked us all, “I am sorry. But you see, women officers are not allowed to join the Lunch Club.”

“But why?” I impatiently questioned the wisdom of this decision.

“You see, Ladies! Your presence there will affect the freedom of speech of the male officers in the lunchroom,” Mr Harsh Vardhan squirmed while uttering these words. 

“Why should male officers indulge in such conversations in the office which they cannot have in front of female colleagues,” Neeta was firm and assertive. 

“Please try to understand, Madam. Men talk all kinds of things which may be embarrassing for decent ladies like you to hear,” he uttered in a patronising tone. 

“Male officers in the organisation are supposed to behave like gentlemen and talk decently in office. The Lunch Room is also a part of the office set-up. I am sure you can counsel them to keep their freedom of speech for their stag parties only,” one of us uttered while staring at him without blinking her eyes. 

“OK. Ladies, I will think about it. Please check up after a week,” this was yet another effort by him to gain time.

By this time, it had become a part of our regular follow-up regimen, and we were in no mood to give up. A long battle continued for many months, and innumerable visits to the 13th floor were made by us. Finally, the mighty Harsh Vardhan succumbed to our mounting pressure. At last, we succeeded and triumphantly marched into the prestigious Lunch Room for Senior Officers on the 14th floor. 

 

The icing on the cake was a lovely poster placed at the entrance to welcome us. Anne Sharma, a highly creative clerk in the department, had been watching our struggle and sympathising with us all along. Ultimately, when we won the battle, she quietly prepared a welcome poster and displayed it in the Lunch Room. Seeing this poster, the thrill of our victory doubled up. The caption of the poster was, “Welcome, Lady Members!” It also showed a male officer at the dining table and a waiter asking him, “Sir, but you never asked for a fork and knife in the past?”

 

Today, women officers walk in and out of the Lunch Room without restrictions. They have no idea how five of us pursued the demand relentlessly for five months before this essential facility was extended to us almost five decades ago. 

With this rewarding end to a long struggle, two learnings took place. Unless you demand, you may not be given even your fundamental rights, and also that persistence pays. 

I do not remember whether it was the International Women's Day. For us, every single day when we struggled for our rights, was Women's Day!

Happy Women's Day to all my readers and the women in their lives!

(To be continued)

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