Thank you, Boss

Thank You, Boss 

 I had a long and arduous work life. Thanks to my bosses, I could make it to the final goal post. My bosses held my hand, helped me navigate life, and led me through the corporate maze. They taught me stuff I thought I would never learn. These bosses were tough, no-nonsense, few bordering eccentric, but none, arrogant or pigheaded. I have described here only a few though all of them were unique in their own way. 

Let us begin with a kindly bank manager who took me - a college lad - as a part-time bank clerk. Sensing my desperation for the money, he pushed me to the dungeon of a Bank to handle large ledgers and small passbooks. He always was both at once, curt and kindly. Often, he will call me to his room for tea and a snack, mercilessly push me down again for more hours. Polite and proper, the boss dressed in a neat suit & tie, the traits I inherited. Everyone teaches you something if you are desperate to learn and get on in life. 

A tall, fair, lanky, immaculately dressed Parsi gentleman who never became my boss but interviewed me twice for the job I wanted for but could never take on. He changed the course of my life one fateful summer afternoon. He taught me the grace and manners of a gentleman. He lit that salesmanship spark and pushed me into the world outside Jamnagar; all that in two brief interviews in the Parsi holy temple of Jamnagar. 

A rowdy Punjabi Sardar boss had a booming voice, who nearly killed me as I disappeared without a word to him. He taught me to be pushy, to enter Doctor's chambers when not allowed, and to not get up from Chemist's shop till he got fed-up and ordered at least six bottles of Lacto Calamine I used to sell. He drove me hard to travel 25 days and cover 20 towns. He instilled in me my love for travel that lasted the next fifty years. I felt enormous relief when I resigned from that job at midnight, from a small town, by telegram. I went to the nearest bus station and boarded a midnight bus to reach home at 3 am. It shocked my distraught mother to see me arriving at such an odd time and whistling at that hour like an idiot. 

After my MBA, I landed with two bosses; an elder Bengali gentleman and a younger, hard-nosed, wily Jew, now, strangely enough, a Rabbi in New York. I felt like I was in between an angel and a demon, between a smooth, sophisticated, suave manager, and an aggressive, deliver, or die, salesman. 

Juggling life among them made me hone my people skills. Incessant travel to Erode, Salem, Ponchampaali, Cannonore, Madras, Banglore, and Delhi took the life out of me. They taught me how not to take no for an answer, how to drive things relentlessly, and above all how to be a good team player. 

Yet later, I worked with a bald, tough Manglorean boss. He wore white clothes and black shoes, giving him a sinister, Hindi film villain look I dreaded. His assigning me impossible tasks drove me insane. I liked and practiced his work philosophy of squeezing people like lime but looking after them like roses for their welfare. He taught me how to hold my drinks. He treated me like an equal in the presence of outsiders. He praised me in public but gave me a rocket in private if I did not perform. 

These bosses toughened me like earthenwares in the oven.  They polished me, dusted me, and honed my skills that lasted a lifetime. I cursed them then, but value their dusting and polishing me now, which made me what I am in my life.