Memoirs of a Sarcastic Intern: Chapter IV

CHAPTER IV

Of Misnomers and Confusions

Mid-monsoon, summer of 2016….

Life as an intern was going great; not even remotely close to the torrid stories our seniors had for us, like fetching coffee for your peers, getting the Xerox done, picking up the boss’ daughter from school and the like. On the contrary, it was an emotionally satisfying one, especially when the candidates that I had screened eventually got inducted into the organisation. However, the first couple of days took a bit getting used to, unsure of the corporate terrain and some of those were just plain funny.

A week had passed on. On the following dreadful Monday, I reached office couple of minutes late, as I had covertly made it my habit. I see a guy on the couch playing Candy Crush.

Dude, seriously Candy Crush…What are you 4 years old?

I saw a courier on the table nearby and thought he might be the delivery guy or something waiting for somebody to sign-in. I had no idea that he was one of the senior managers of the firm.

I walk up to my desk, set up my things and notice the fan not working. I walk up to the switch board, and fidget with the switches. Nothing happens. 

I ask the guy, “Bhai, ye fan kharab ho rakha hai kya?”

He looks up at me, stares for a couple of seconds, and goes

“Nahin, light nahi hai”

“Accha”

I walk back to my desk and resume the activities for the day.

Later, prior to lunch break, I ask Bhawna.

“Hey, listen. Who’s the guy sitting in the corner?”

“Well, he’s one of the senior managers of the company.”

Shit, Shit, Shit….

“Really. Oh man, I gave him the moniker Bhai when a Sir would have been appropriate.” 

It was like all my etiquette flew out the window at that instant. However, more such discrepancies were to follow over the course of the week.

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The workplace was a fun and jovial one, filled with sincere and hard-working souls. There were a lot of interesting folks over there- Shanika, the feisty one; Nidhi, and her tryst with her pair of broken laptops, which even God wouldn’t dare fix. If Hewlett and Packard, the co-founders of HP were to see the sorry state in which their creations were being handled, they would shut down their business and settle for the life of a monk. Not that my pc fares any better. My pc’s display looks that it had to single-handedly suffer the consequences of bombings at Nagasaki and Hiroshima.

Then there’s Mitushi, another fellow intern. Almost all of our conversations revolved around food, the different kinds, their recipes, ways to eat them….She would make a face every time I talked of non-veg food. Being a strict vegan, she would have a look of horror when I talked of the creatures I have eaten…Deer, water snake, rabbit…there’s a long list. There would always be at least one tab open in both our pc, purely dedicated do deals websites. Each time there’s a new notification…Job gayi bhar me, pehle pet puja.

Then there’s Anjali, who is bogged down by work from all corners of the country. Half of the firm’s work seemed to be delegated to her. 

Also, there’s the vocal one, Prerna, (aka snapchatqueen, as she is lovingly referred to), the fellow intern, whom all this time I had thought to be a regular employee going by the zest and tenacity with which she made calls. The sullen quite of lazy summer afternoons would be often broken by her preponderate voice, briefing the candidates about the job details. I found her to be quite inspiring as I would often tell myself…..Look at her, all pumped up and serious about the job. Get off your ass and make some line-ups. Quite possibly, she’s the reason I had made over a dozen lineups each day over the weeks to come.

All this to the absolute ire of Shanika and Soni, who were looking over the same profile as I was. The boss would call them over and say

“Look at him. He’s an intern and is doing a much better job. Kuch seekho Anupam se.”

I could see Shanika nodding and being all polite. But inside, she seemed like she was burning with absolute fury.

She comes to me and says, “Yaar itne line-ups kyu karte ho. Relax!” We have to hear from the boss because of you.”

I smile not knowing what to say.

Soni became even mad when she came to know I worked on a Sunday.

“Yaar, Sunday koh toh chor dia karo”

I smile again.

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Most days would follow the same routine. Posting job vacancies on job portals, screening CVs, making calls, sending interview venue to the candidates…..

It was mostly fun, but the difficult part of it was the calls made to south Indians. The difference of accent was like a huge communication gap, and it took me couple of days to get used to their accent, as the only time I had heard south Indians speak was in movies. It became worse when the candidates would start throwing tantrums.

How consultancies work was on the principle that they have to get good and relevant candidates for the job vacancies. And they have to be distinctly told to mention the name of the consultancy in their CV as reference before their interview. If they don’t, the candidate would be taken as a walk-in and the consultancy would get rat’s ass. They would not only cost the consultancy business, but also the employee’s incentive.

On one such incident, the candidate that Shanika had lined up forgot to mention the reference. She called back the guy and give him a sound piece of her mind. She kept walking the length and breadth of the office in her dominating voice, speaking to the poor fellow on the other side.

“If I lose my incentive because of you, kaccha kha jaungi tujhe….”

Even I had my fair share of unruly candidates. I had lined up an U.S. return girl in her twenties for Mysore location. The branch manager was not present on the day of her scheduled interview. Understandably, she got angry with me. She calls me and goes…

“How can you send over candidates without any confirmation? Don’t you guys have manners? Are you dimwits or something….”

She kept going on for well over two minutes. I should have been riled up too. But, on the contrary, I actually seemed to take a liking to her American accent, even if that meant taking her vile curses. All the while I just kept smiling, as her voice reminded of an angry Robin from How I Met Your Mother, my favourite TV character. After the charade of over two minutes, she hung up.

She would have made for one hell of an Agency Manager. Birla Sun Life would regret it one day.