76. STRANGE ARE THE WAYS OF DESTINY! (2001)

STRESS, SUCCESS AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN 

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

CARE: This is Chapter 76 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, link given below:
https://ranjanabharij.blogspot.com/2023/06/stress-success-and-everything-in.html

Two years passed, and I was transferred to head the Personnel & HR Department in the Head Office. A wave of congratulations and good wishes swept over me. It was the first time a woman officer was posted in this position in the Bank. Suddenly, I became a very popular person. Everyone seemed eager to befriend me, and the number of Diwali and New Year greetings skyrocketed. I knew this newfound popularity was not for me but for my position.

Soon, the time for my third and final promotion attempt to the top executive grade arrived. The memory of my previous two rejections still stung, particularly the explanation given by the Chairman of the first interview board: they could not promote too many women to the top cadre. Despite this setback, I prepared diligently for the upcoming opportunity for promotion. I delved into my notes and books, brushing up on the theoretical aspects of banking, but it was with some scepticism this time.

However, life had other plans. It was early morning. My husband and I had gone for our morning walk in a nearby park. Suddenly, he experienced pain in his upper abdomen. He found it difficult to walk. We rested for ten minutes on a bench in the park, and he felt normal, and we resumed our walk. After another five minutes of walking, the pain reappeared. Rest brought it back to normal. Walk, pain, rest, relief… Walk, pain, rest, relief… with difficulty, we returned home. A cardiac checkup confirmed our worst fears: he had significant arterial blockages. The cardiologist recommended angioplasty, a procedure that would hopefully resolve the issue. A stent or two should take care of the blockages, and he will be discharged from the hospital within a day.

Two days later, he was wheeled into the Catheterization Lab, and I sat outside waiting for the process to be over. Waiting outside, I picked up the newspaper to read the latest Credit Policy the Reserve Bank of India had announced the previous day. I read it three times, but nothing registered. A mix of anxiety and worry was consuming me, and my mind had lost its capability to understand and absorb information. The nuances of how the Reserve Bank of India proposed to handle the money market in the country were of no interest to me. The reality of his health overshadowed everything else. I folded the newspaper and threw it away. Whispering a silent prayer for his well-being, I looked at my son. He appeared tense. I patted his arm, “Let us go and have some coffee. A cup of strong coffee would perhaps soothe our frayed nerves."

An unexpected announcement on the public address system startled me, and I jumped out of the chair in the coffee shop. The cardiologist wanted me to come up and see him urgently. So soon? I was worried and almost ran up to the floor where my husband lay in the operation theatre. The cardiologist informed me they could not perform angioplasty as the blockages were too severe and complex. He explained that there were too many blockages in the arteries and at the points where the arteries branch off into two. It was not possible to insert a stent there. The only solution was bypass surgery. The doctor advised, "If you want a second opinion, we will discharge him by evening. The only word of caution is that you decide fast. His arteries are severely clogged. We cannot wait much.” The doctor was pleasant and explained his view and approach clearly.

I discussed it with my husband, and he decided to undergo the bypass surgery.

That evening, I decided my career ambitions had to take a backseat. Looking after my husband was my priority. I put away my banking books and study material to be given to the kabadi.

The surgery was successful, but the recovery process was arduous. Juggling hospital visits, home care, and attending to visiting friends and relatives was exhausting. It was taking its toll on me, but I was trying to be a superwoman.

Amidst this chaos, the interview dates were announced. My interview was scheduled just ten days after the open heart surgery of my husband. I had decided not to appear for the interview. But my husband urged me to attend the interview.

“I have no intentions of going for the interview. If I go and they promote me, they will definitely transfer me out of Delhi. I cannot leave you here in this condition and move out,” I argued with him.

“I think you must go for the interview. If I find it difficult to live alone in Delhi, I will take leave and stay with you until I recuperate fully. But do not miss this opportunity,” his voice was feeble.

"But I have not even prepared anything. I will feel like a fool in the interview. Try to understand," I was uncomfortable at the thought of facing the interview board in this state of complete unpreparedness.

My son joined him in sermonising me, “Mom, you cannot give up the race even without running it. If you have to lose it, lose it after running. One does not always win in life, but you must try. You never know…” They were both encouraging me not to give up without a fight.

Reluctantly, I reached the venue of the interview. The undertaking I was required to sign before the interview read, “In the event of my getting promoted, I am willing to be posted anywhere in India or abroad.”

My hand trembled as I picked up the pen to sign that undertaking, and I stopped. Then, I thought the Interview Committee would not recommend me in this state of unpreparedness. So I made up my mind and signed the paper, albeit shakily.

I felt neither pressure of performance nor fear of rejection. It was okay if I would not be selected. I no longer craved the promotion. In fact, I secretly hoped I would be rejected.

In the interview, the Chairman of the Board fired the first question, “So you are heading the personnel department here? You must be an expert in personnel matters.” The question from the person who had handled nothing but personnel-related matters for most of his career was intimidating. But my answer was short and crisp, “No, sir. I am not an expert at all. Personnel is such a vast and complex area that even a lifetime of exposure is not enough to master the intricacies of this discipline.”

“Mrs Bharij, Reserve Bank of India recently announced the Busy Season Credit Policy. Can you tell us the salient features of the policy?” Another member asked.

I rolled my eyes, looked at the ceiling and then at the member and replied with a smile, “I do not know.”

“Mrs Bharij, did you not read it to prepare for the interview?” The board member obviously did not like it.

“It is not so, sir. I have read it, but I cannot recall anything right now. Maybe I am nervous.” Making an honest admission, I grinned.

At the end of the interview, I was confident they would not select me, and that is what I wanted. Once again, after twenty-two years, I deliberately tried to erase the career lines from my palm.

A fortnight later, the results were announced and much to my surprise, I was promoted and transferred to a new location. I had sacrificed the stability of my family for a career advancement I did not truly desire.  I did not want any promotion or transfer at this stage of life, but I got both. Once again, a conflict between my domestic life and my career began, and I started packing my bags for Chandigarh.

Aren’t the ways of destiny strange?

(To be continued....)

*****