43. WHAT IS IN A DESIGNATION? (1984)

 STRESS, SUCCESS AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN

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

43. WHAT IS IN A DESIGNATION? (1984)

CARE: This is Chapter 43 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. 

Life at the Bank's Staff College in Gurgaon was in total contrast to my earlier fast-paced life at the branches. The college was newly opened, and all the roles had not been clearly defined. While others were busy, I floundered, unsure of my role and responsibilities. My initial thrill of exploring the library soon faded. How long could books hold my attention?

Determined to contribute, I approached every faculty member, eager to undertake any task they could delegate to me. I edited study material, created OHP (Over-Head Projector) slides and even wrote welcome messages in the lecture halls – anything to make myself useful. This willingness helped me understand the training system: it also provided me time for writing, leading to published articles – a source of immense satisfaction.

One suggestion gave me a new direction, researching the level and sources of stress in the lives of bank executives. Months later, after I presented my findings, the Principal proposed Stress Management sessions in the programme for the Regional Managers, who were all senior Scale V officers. A faculty member was assigned the job of taking two sessions on stress and its management. He approached me for the reference material on the subject, and I happily extended all cooperation to him, handed over the study material and prepared all the OHP slides for his lecture.

On the day of the session, the faculty member who was to lead the sessions panicked at the last moment. He felt he could not handle it and asked me to substitute him at the eleventh hour. He also told me that he had already taken the permission of the Principal. Before doing so, he had not even shared his intentions with me. The session was to start at 2pm, and he asked me to fill up for him at 1 pm, just before I was leaving for lunch. 

Initially, overcome with self-doubt, I refused. It meant two sessions of ninety minutes each, and I was not mentally prepared for it. I had not even prepared the structure of the two sessions. The participants were far more senior than me. They were all in Grade V, and I was in the lowly Middle Management Grade II. Also, I had never conducted a session for the Bank officers before. But he continued to beg and plead. I struggled with myself for a few minutes, but saying I can't has never been my wont. And I agreed. 

Skipping lunch, I frantically prepared notes and entered the lecture hall with a nervous smile, masking my inner apprehensions. To my utter surprise, the Principal, Vice-Principal, and all the faculty members walked in to be present as observers. Were they there to learn stress management or to evaluate my performance? Was it because it was the first time that inputs on Stress Management were introduced in a training programme at the institute? Whatever the reason, their presence intensified my stress.

As I started speaking, my heart pounded. I quickly recalled the "Chalk and Talk" method from my earlier lecturer-ship days and picked a chalk to write on the board. When I rested my left hand on the board to write something, the palm left a moist impression there, a clear manifestation of my anxiety. Quickly removing my hand from the board, I consciously took charge of my mind and regained composure. Suddenly, I started addressing participants very confidently. The words flowed smoothly for the next hour and a half. The time flew by: the participants listened to me spellbound, and the session overran its time.

The tea break was a whirlwind of questions, eager requests for solutions, and genuine compliments. Deriving confidence from the success of the first session, I handled the second session effortlessly.

The evaluation of the programme on the last day revealed my sessions on Stress Management were rated the best and were given perfect scores. From then on, these sessions became my domain, giving me a new role and a renewed sense of purpose. Although my designation remained Research Officer, I often started working as a faculty member, even for officials in the top executive grade. This incident helped me to get in touch with my innate strength and grow my self-confidence.

To me, the designation mattered less than the role I performed. After all, what is in a designation? 

                                                                                                               (To be continued....)

*****

42. THE POWER OF NETWORKING (1982)

 STRESS, SUCCESS AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN

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

42. THE POWER OF NETWORKING (1982)

CARE: This is Chapter 42 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.

In our Bank, one is always scared of the Personnel Department as they can make or mar your life, personal as also the official.

One fine morning, I received a telephone call from the Personnel Department to come urgently to Head Office and meet the Personnel Manager. As the information became public, my colleagues in the branch started speculating why I had been summoned without any agenda. They forewarned me that the Personnel Manager was a rude and heartless guy. All this talk was enough to give me jitters, and I ensured to be at his office before the designated time. As there was no place for waiting, I stood outside his room, rubbing my hands anxiously. I wondered what could be the purpose of this meeting. Why was I personally called? Is it possible that the rogue borrower of my previous branch had lodged a complaint against me? Or maybe because I had retorted rudely to my senior the other day in front of everybody, and he might have complained against me. My mind was going into a tizzy.   

I was finally called in. The Personnel Manager stared hard at me from top to toe and blurted out brusquely that I was at the top of the list of officers with overstay in Delhi. He added it was time for me to move out of Delhi and condescended to inform me that he planned to transfer me to Roorkee. It was like a bolt from the blue. How would I stay alone at Roorkee with two small kids aged 8 and 4 years and perform effectively as a Branch Head? My experience as Branch Manager in the two previous branches had not been too happy. I pleaded if I could be accommodated in a nearby city instead of posting in a far-off place, some 200 km away. A cynical expression on the face and a quick wave of the hand conveyed that it was not an option. I knew what the transfer policy for my grade was. It had a provision for posting an officer in a nearby town like Gurgaon, Faridabad or Ghaziabad, and one had to stay there for five years before becoming eligible to come back to Delhi. But would he listen? Maybe it was my weakness, as I did not know how to sound helpless and beg and plead. 

I came out of his cabin with a long face, wondering how to handle this new problem in my personal life. With great effort, we had admitted our children to the prestigious Modern School. What would be the plight of their education if they had to go to Roorkee with me? Will they start pronouncing "Boss" as "Bose" and "God" as "Goad" as most locals did? How am I going to handle them alone? 

I was restless and could not wait for the lift to arrive. I started walking down the stairs. In the stairwell, I thought of stopping at the 11th floor to say hi to a colleague I had befriended during my Head office days. She was the Personal Secretary to the top boss, the Chief General Manager. When she learnt of my worries, she shared that the Bank had decided to open a training institute for the officers in Gurgaon. They were looking for an officer for the post of a Research Officer, who was good in English and had completed the mandatory line assignment. My face lit up with a smile on hearing this. I could manage to write in English and had completed the ordeal of working as a Branch Manager for over three years. I quickly wrote down my bio-data and handed it over to her.  

The next few days were full of uncertainty and tension as I did not know when I would be ordered to leave for Roorkee. A few weeks passed, but no communication for my next posting came. I was tense and worried. The uncertainty about my future was nibbling my mental peace away. 

Finally, one day, I received a call from the Administrative Officer of the Academy asking me why I had not reported there so far. I told him my branch had not received any transfer orders for me. He confirmed that the orders had indeed been issued a few weeks ago and that he had already received its copy. 

About half an hour passed before I was called by my Branch Head. He was furious, “What strings have you pulled? The Personnel Manager is very angry and has asked me to relieve you immediately. Please hand over the Locker Keys to Ms AB and leave for Staff College immediately. Understand?” 

The staff wanted to arrange a farewell for me, but they were told not to. I picked up the relieving letter and left. But I was on top of the world. "Yeah yeah, yippee yippee, yeah yeah yeah...!" I had escaped a posting to Roorkee. This was the first time that I tasted the power of networking in the Bank. 

***

PS
As I started my car and came onto the main road leading to Gurgaon, a genuinely serious thought came to my mind, “Why not meet the Personnel Manager and thank him for changing my posting from Roorkee to Gurgaon!” 

I turned the car towards the Head Office, reached the 13th floor and waited to meet him. Upon seeing me, the Personnel Manager snarled, “What brings you here?” 

"I have been relieved today. Thought of informing you and thanking you for changing my orders from Roorkee to Gurgaon." I tried to be as polite as possible.

He stared at me and growled, “Why thank me? I had nothing to do with it. You know it very well.”  Wondering why he sounded so irritated and not knowing what to say, I just smiled, “No sir, the credit goes to you only. I was ignorant about my long stay. You only made me aware of it and told me about the transfer to Roorkee. Therefore, thanks are due to you only.”  He gave me a dirty look and walked away.  

In the subsequent years, whenever he saw me in the precincts of the Staff College, he did not respond to my greeting and looked away when I wished him.

Looking back, I understand nothing could have been more foolish than my attempt to thank the Personnel Manager. It was a naïve move to mend fences, but it was my lack of understanding of office politics. Honestly, I had not gone there to tease him. I genuinely wanted to thank him but perhaps he took it as an insult.  In due course, I understood the mechanisms and undercurrents of hierarchies better, and this incident became a valuable lesson for me in navigating the corporate world.

(To be continued...)

*****

41. PAYING BACK IN THE SAME COIN (1982)

 STRESS, SUCCESS AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN

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

41. PAYING BACK IN THE SAME COIN (1982)

CARE: This is Chapter 41 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.

That day, the air crackled with anticipation. It was not a usual workday for the Bank. It was closed to the public, but the banking hall buzzed with activity. Today was the half-yearly closing, and amidst the bonhomie of a working but non-working day, there was another reason for celebration for me. The news of my promotion had just reached the branch, and the staff, with whom I had shared countless hours of trials and tribulations, were ecstatic. "Party time!" they chorussed, their enthusiasm warming the otherwise mundane banking hall.

Till recently, I had revelled in the freedom bestowed by my previous boss, a delegator extraordinaire. It had been an exhilarating experience in branch management and a confidence booster, especially after the unfortunate incident at the last posting.

Things were different now. The new Branch Manager was the polar opposite of his predecessor. He was a micro-managing tyrant who was prone to frequent fiery outbursts. He would bellow at officers while cowering before the clerical staff, creating tension for us, the officers. We somehow tolerated him, but today, with the exhilaration of my promotion fresh, a silent defiance had started simmering within me.

As the party preparations were on, the essential task of balancing the ledgers was in progress. Back then, in the era of manual banking, this meant meticulous hand-balancing of every account. The night before, I had burned the midnight oil, ensuring the Progressive Book was ready with figures, giving my team no reason to delay their task.

Around 11:30 am, I was moving from one desk to another in the bustling hall, checking on each one's progress with a smile. Suddenly, the Branch Manager's loud voice shattered the hum. From a distance, he bellowed a question about a minor issue. Before I could respond, his face contorted, and his lips twisted with despair. His voice echoed through the hushed banking hall as he screamed, "Oh, come on. What is the Bank up to? Promoting people like you? (आए हाए, ये बैंक भी क्या करता है....आपके जैसों को प्रमोट कर देता है।) "

A collective gasp was heard through the hall. The vibrant chatter died, replaced by a deafening silence. Even the flickering fluorescent lights seemed to dim in shock.

My own temper flared. "If the bank can elevate someone like you," I retorted, voice laced with barely contained anger, "then what on earth makes me less qualified?(अगर बैंक आप जैसों को प्रमोट कर देता है, तो मुझ में क्या कमी है?) "

The manager's face contorted into a mixture of fury and humiliation, and he stormed back into his office, red-faced and sputtering something unintelligible.

Moments later, I was summoned to his room, where he complained in a mumbled tone, about my inappropriate retort in front of the staff.

"And your outburst in front of the entire team was acceptable?" I shot back, not letting him finish. With that, I turned on my heel and marched out, leaving him speechless in his chair.

He had received the message loud and clear. From that day onward, the bullying stopped. It was a small victory, but I had learnt my lesson of not tolerating bullying from anyone, even if he was my boss and was going to write my annual appraisal report shortly.

(To be continued....)

*****