80.THE TAMBOLA TRAP (2003)

 STRESS, SUCCESS AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN 

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

CARE: This is Chapter 80 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 that day, my desk was a battlefield of papers. Twenty thick files, each crowned with a three-page brief, glared at me. Today was the day of reckoning: a crucial videoconference with the Corporate Centre was scheduled that afternoon at 3 pm to discuss the status of non-performing assets handled by my branch. I had to revisit each summary and make notes on the margins based on the likely questions in the video conference. I wanted to have all the details at my fingertips. It was an important videoconference with the Corporate Centre, and I did not want to be caught on the wrong foot. Panic gnawed at me as I looked at the clock.  

"Fifteen minutes per note. Five hours minimum. If I work non-stop, I can finish the revision by 3pm," I muttered, calculating grimly.

I buzzed for my PS, "No interruptions. Absolutely none!"

“Yes, Madam. Will make sure,” he knew the importance of the videoconference. 

An hour later, the cell phone screen flashed Big Boss Res. The call was not from my boss but from his wife. "Hey Ranjana! What are you doing? We are having the Ladies Club meeting at my place today. Come and join in the fun!"

Her enthusiasm was infectious, but I shook my head. "Sorry, Madam. I am neck-deep with work today."

"Oh, come on! Nobody in the Bank can be that busy. You may be having a site visit due. Right? Tell your boss you are out inspecting some unit," she suggested.

I giggled at her playful suggestion, "Madam, I have a videoconference with the Corporate Centre, which is crucial."

"That is no issue. Ask someone else to attend."

"I cannot, Madam. The meeting is with the Corporate Centre."

"Hmm…Okay, okay. I understand you are actually very busy. But at least come over for lunch."

"Madam, I need to prepare. If I am unable to answer the questions in the meeting, your husband will kill me..." I trailed off, imagining his stern looks if I could not clarify the position.

"Ah! Do not worry about him. I will take care of that. I will tell him not to say anything to you. Do not act pricey now. Just come for lunch. It will take the same time as going to the lunchroom." She was in no mood to relent, but I had to. With the First Lady insisting so much, further resistance would have been too discourteous, and I caved in, albeit reluctantly.

The Bank House was nearby, and I was there at 1.30 pm sharp to find myself amidst a whirlwind of fun, colour and chatter.

“A pair of eight, eighty-eight!” The announcement went.

“Line!” someone yelled, and there was a lot of activity in that corner.

“Bogey! Bogey!! Bogey!!!” Some other women shouted, and the process was resumed.

“One and six. Number sixteen. Sweet sixteen,” a new number was announced.

About thirty fashionably dressed divas were engrossed in a lively game of Tambola. The First Lady greeted me warmly. "Thanks for coming! Here, play on my ticket while I arrange lunch."

The numbers were being announced, but my mind was elsewhere. Loan recovery, one-time settlement, implementation of SARFAESI, status in the Debt Recovery Tribunal, and the next hearing in BIFR were looming before my eyes. I felt a pang of guilt. I should have been at my desk, not here.

In ten minutes, lunch was served. The vivacious ladies wanted to play one more round of Tambola but had to get up much against their wishes. I admired their colourful silk sarees, fine jewellery, nicely done-up hairstyles and well-manicured nails; none of them was less than a diva. They discussed fashion, gossip, cookery and what their husband liked. Had I become a party pooper by coming here?

A lady with a glint in her eyes remarked, "Lucky you! Enjoying the party here while my poor husband is slogging."

She was right, but her words stung. Coming for lunch that day was no enjoyment for me; it was a forced choice. But could I share it with her? The wise say silence is golden. So I smiled and left for my office to finish the remaining preparation.

At 3pm sharp, I was in the Conference Room with the files, folders and notes, ready to face the barrage of queries. As we waited, someone from Corporate Centre conveyed that the videoconference was called off due to unforeseen exigencies.

Once I was back in my office, I wondered what dessert was served at lunch. Did the ladies play a few more rounds of Tambola? A strong feeling of loss suddenly started agitating my mind.  

(To continue....)

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