The 8:30am Manager - Part 1

“Naresh, have you cleaned Sir’s room and kept fresh water in his bottle?”

Sameer Babu’s voice thundered through the silent office; the ticking sound of the ageing clock made Naresh’s heart pound harder.

“8:24am”; the rusting dials gave no comfort.

“Sir, I will complete in 5 minutes; please don’t be angry.”

“Naresh, I think you should look for a job in another office. I am tired of reminding you every day.”

Krishna Rao arrived at 8:30am.

Thirty two years of his career with the company had been spent across several departments, different cities and through factory, service and sales postings.

Zonal Head was not the natural progression of his hard earned reputation, nor for the length of his experience. He wanted to retire in the city, where he started his career; his genealogy traced somewhere else, and nobody knew how he got married to the city.

Retirement was another 3 years away, but his precision with time had nothing to do with that expiry date.

“Sameer, good morning.”

“Good morning, Sir.”

“Please send me the bills to review and get the cheque book along. Am I meeting the Sales Tax Commissioner today? What is the shifting date to our new office?”

Sameer Babu, as he was officially known, was Admin-Head. Barrage of questions usually greeted his morning meeting with Krishna Rao; the morning tea gets served much later.

Twelve years of knowing his boss, did not compromise his preparation for this morning exchange, neither did it give him assurance of passing this daily test.

As he settled into his chair and looked out of his room’s window, the wet leaves of the mango tree looked darker and the clouds showed no signs of ushering a bright day.

Naresh, the office boy, came with a glass of water and his favourite hard boiled sweetened tea.

Sips of the piping hot tea soothed him; he took his handkerchief out to clear the vapours on his glasses.

The phone rang.

“Sameer, there is new joinee in Sales from current year campus recruitment assigned to this office. He should be joining today; has he arrived?”

“Sir, no. Sir, let me check.”

Sameer Babu laboured his mood away from his tea, and walked down the stairs to ground floor Sales Office.

“Security, has any new person reported today?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He pointed to the worn down sofa in customer waiting area.

“Hello. Are you the new management trainee?”

“Yes, Sir. I am Arpit. Pleasure meeting you.”

“Arpit, I am Sameer Verma. I am Admin-Head of this Zonal Office. Show me your HR joining letter, and follow me.”

“Sir, the management trainee is here. I will take him to my desk and give him the forms.”

“Sameer, No. Send him in. He will meet you later.”

Arpit waited outside the wooden door; his eyes scanned the mosaic flooring that was wearing away.

The door opened, and Sameer Babu called the new joinee in, and retired back to his desk.

“Arpit, welcome. So, we meet again.”

Krishna Rao was part of the four member recruitment team from the company that visited his campus almost 

five months back.

“Good morning, Sir. Yes, pleasure meeting you again.”

The interview had not gone particularly well; Arpit had not been able to answer several questions especially from Krishna Rao.

“Aye, chai piyega?”

His Hindi did not belie his Telugu soul.

“No, Sir. I don’t drink tea.”

The wry smile returned on Krishna Rao’s face.

“Let us see. There are at least a thousand cups waiting for you; how many you can deny.”

Arpit did not understand. The unanswered questions from the campus interview deafened him for a moment.

As his attention returned, “Rudra is our Zonal Sales Head and your boss; Vinit and Sukant are going to be your colleagues. Santosh Pujari heads our Service and Premjit Chatterjee heads our in-house Finance business. I will ask Rudra to introduce you to the team.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Krishna Rao’s eye fell on the clock behind Arpit, above his cabin’s door.

9:52am

“Settle yourself fast young man, we have a lot to do.I wish you a successful career.”

As the young trainee closed the door behind him, Krishna Rao leaned back on his chair.

Hands clasped, his memory jogged to that late evening interview with Arpit, during campus recruitment.

“If you were to sell a bus to a school, what are the different features you will talk about?”

“Sir, I will talk about seating capacity, maintenance cost…hmm, also…talk about the operating cost, service stations for easy repairs.”

Krishna Rao looked unimpressed and intimidatingly at the candidate.

“Mr. Arpit, is that all or, there is something else that you can think of.”

“Sir, I will compare the features with competitor brands and show advantages.”

Krishna Rao grew restless.

“Mr. Arpit, you should know that safety is the most important feature that you need to discuss. We are transporting children and this is not a passenger car.”

“Yes Sir. I am sorry, safety is important.”

Arpit had laboriously survived 40 minutes in this campus interview with his dream company; it was not going as per his expectations and he was conscious and unrelenting.

Suvojit, the HR representative in the campus panel, asked – “Arpit, do you have any questions?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He was looking forward to this moment, and he had the question.

“Sir, what do you think about removal of quantitative restrictions on imports of second hand cars?”

India was still in its juvenile days of trade policy reforms and liberalising capital flows from the gallows of 1991; 

it also covered phased reduction of tariff rates on import; Arpit had done a project on the subject.

The members of the interview panel defended the need to protect and grow Indian manufacturing.

Arpit argued that it was favourable to have import rate lowered for second hand cards as that would bring more cars to the Indian market, making it more affordable to large number of Indians who aspired for cars and deferred the purchase well past their middle age. This large base of people who will enter the car market, will upgrade to new cars in years ahead.

The interview ended, and there was no agreement on Arpit’s selection.

“Sir, I have got the print out.”

Krishna Rao’s thoughts got interrupted.

“Thank you, Sachin.”

Sachin, his office assistant, handed over the month’s product-wise and dealer-wise sales figures.

It was not a positive trend, and achievement was likely to fall below the month’s plan.

The company had recorded five consecutive quarters of profit decline and the sales growth was fragile, with discounts and finance schemes hiding slack consumer demand.

“Sameer, please help Arpit with the bank account opening, PF forms and inform Suvojit in HR Department about his joining.”

Finishing his cup of tea, he dialled again. “Sameer, one more thing, please send Rudra to my room if he is in office. Also, check with him for a dealer meeting in Hotel Konark for 22^nd of this month.”

Rains lashed out at the glass window, as leaves of the distant coconut tree swung hysterically to the winds.

(End of Part-1)