Things not to do and to do

I am a magnet for embarrassing moments and what happened today ranks somewhere in the middle. But, still it's got news value. But before that, the background: Well, about five months ago, I am like new to this job and all eager and ready to run if anyone tells me to stand up. Alert, attentive, razor fast and aiming to please, that was what I was aiming to be. So, I get a call on my extension. "Can you come here please." It sounds to me like our head of administration and so I get up, take a left and cross a stair to head into that section of things. Turns out head of administration is with head of accounts in the latter's cabin. So maybe they both have something terribly important to do with me.

My spine straight, I barge into the cabin. And they are having a sort of round table conference except that all of them are standing. Head of accounts looks at me and lifts one eyebrow. Quick Gun Madhavan (that's me) lifts one of his own.

"Yes," he says.

"Yes," I say.

"Can I help you," he asks. I am a little fuddled now. So okay, head of administration is there. He called me after all and I lower my eyebrows and say, pointing at him, "He."

Head of administration immediately dusts his shirt. "Me. Oh, you want to talk to me. Let's go outside."

He doesn't get it. "But you called me," I tell him.

"Did I," he says. "I didn't," he adds.

I mutter sorries and then run back to my cubicle where editor, il capo, is waiting.

"Hey, I called you. Why did you go running in the other direction." I mutter more embarrassed sorries. End of recap.

NOW TODAY:

Head of administration comes and says new publishing director, a CEO of sorts, wants to meet everyone singly and do I have the time. Of course I have the time and jump and almost start running to do small talk with the il capo di capo. Hold it, says head of administration. "He's with someone else. Later. I will call you."

Five minutes later there's a call. "Madhavan, can you come here" And I get up and run to head of administration. Yes, you guessed it. That was the editor again.

So I reach my completely wrong and mistimed destination and flash a smile at him. Head of administration smiles back and I should have suspected something because he didn't say anything. So I hemmed and hawed and he offered me a seat and we just sort of sat there. He, I am sure, wondering what's wrong with me and I all agog in anticipation but puzzled that I am being made to wait. I mean I didnt have to wait a minute during my job interview. I get invited in after a long long time, in the meanwhile of which I ask head of administration about his train schedule, kids, estate prices and so forth. Small talk done with publishing director, I return to find my other boss, the editor, waiting.
"You still dont recognise my voice," he says and laughs loudly. What else could I do. I try to laugh even louder than him and act like I am revelling in all this glory.

But I decide then and there to smuggle in a spoon from tomorrow onwards and start digging a tunnel under my chair and so maybe the next time I can jump right in and get out through the other side in the night, straight onto Goa betwixt the white dunes of Benaulim beach which sparkle in the night like pearls and where I will lie and look at the full moon while mermaids, as pretty as Blue Athena, come out of the sea flipping their flippers and sing many little lyrics to me. I wouldn't look at them though. I would look at the moon and imagine the fat fellow dancing to the sea music. Later I would go on a float of these sea nymphs deep into the sea where the sea king would offer his daughter in marriage and then, sea king, sea queen, sea princess and me would lead a good sea life with sharks and sting rays, dolphins and blue whales, octopus and salmons who take a break as they migrate through vast oceans to nest and egg. Yes, one happy sea family we will all be.