I am quiet for a while. Then I say, without raising my voice, ‘Then, we’re not teaching. We’re tricking them into thinking they’re learning.’
Silence.
Of course, I’m not supposed to say this. I’m the data guy. I’m supposed to give them insights. They are the ones who have todecide what to do with them. Someone coughs. Richa nods—too many times. Vikas starts typing furiously. My manager, Rehaan, does what he always does, playing the peacemaker, ‘He’s just asking us to think deeper. That’s good. We have to look at the value we are adding, right?’
He moves on. Everyone moves on. I stay exactly where I am.
At 3.15, there’s a ping on Slack.
Karan (HR): Hey you around? can we chat for 10?
Karan is already waiting in one of the small meeting rooms with too much glass and not enough privacy. There’s too much glass in every office that you go to. All it would take is one deaf person who’s adept at lip reading and he could sell company secrets by the buckets.
Karan is in a navy-blue shirt and brown pants. His LinkedIn bio says: ‘People-first HR leader building culture at scale.’ But despite that, he’s a good guy.
‘Bro,’ he says the moment I sit down. He looks at me and knows there’s no reason for small talk. He continues, ‘You’ve been back for a while. Right?’
I nod.
‘And man . . . you’ve been professional. I mean that. But the vibe . . .’
I look at him and raise my eyebrow.
He continues, ‘It’s off.’
‘My vibe is off?’ I ask. ‘Are you sure that’s allowed in HR circles? Also, how old are you? Sixteen?’
He ignores it. ‘You’re still... carrying it. In meetings. At your desk. People feel it.’
‘People feel what?’
‘They feel . . .’
‘Sad? Irritated? Like I smell of death? What exactly did they say?’ I ask.
I don’t mean to make him feel uncomfortable, but he does. In all probability, they didn’t say anything of this sort. They would have wrapped it in corporate speak.
‘C’mon,’ he says. ‘Can you pretend better?’
I laugh.
‘Please do this for me?’ he says. ‘We all pretend. You just need to pretend a bit harder. I know it’s too much to ask for. But you will be coming to office every day, and I don’t want to do this. You’re a friend...’
‘Are you sure HR is allowed to say that?’
‘C’mon, Raghav.’
I say, ‘Anything else?’
He hesitates. Then, ‘Five days in office next week.’
Of course.
I nod. ‘There are only five days in a week.’
‘Seven,’ he corrects me.
‘Die.’
