About eight months after I joined, I took a holiday. When I returned to work, someone (I don’t remember who) said that the Editor Mr Nair had been asking for me the last two days. I immediately went downstairs to meet him. His secretary told me that he was out and that he would return in an hour or so.
But you know how it goes in a newspaper office. I got into the thick of things and completely forgot about it. I have this habit of doing a rewind once I get back home. I go through the entire day’s events. Right from the time I walked in to the time when the pages were sent off to print. That’s when I suddenly remembered that I had forgotten about Mr Nair.
The next day, the first thing I did was to go to Mr Nair’s office. After a short wait, I walked in. Mr Nair, who was working on his computer, looked up and said: “You’ve been asked to leave. Our experiment by hiring you has failed. According to reports we have received, you don’t even know how to edit. Every story you do, Murali has to go through it again.”
All this he said in one breath, and without another word, turned back to his computer and started working. I stood there stunned for about half a minute, unable to believe what I heard. Losing a job wasn’t what hurt me. I was sure that it was just a matter of a few days before I landed another job. What shocked me beyond belief was how they did it? And how Mr Nair conveyed it to me. I was too stunned to respond and mumbled something and walked off.
I left office and went to a friend’s place. This friend was a former colleague at Hans, who had the same experience—he walked into office one day and was told to leave immediately!! A senior person, who has a long association with Mr Nair asked just a couple of questions: “Did Nair look at you while he was speaking? I mean, did he look directly at you?”
“No,” I said.
“Did he discuss the issue with you or give you a chance to speak?”
“No.”
“Then it is not his decision. It must be from ‘above’.”
After spending a couple of hours at his place (he offered me rum), I returned home. All the while, there were a few questions haunting me. Why did they treat me like this? If I had not been up to their expectations, shouldn’t they have talked to me about my performance? Told me at least once that I have to buck up and perform better? Shouldn’t they have asked me if I had any problems? And if there were issues that could have been sorted out, shouldn’t they have done that? Why didn’t they do all that? Doesn’t a professional organization work like that? I am yet to find answers.
But you know how it goes in a newspaper office. I got into the thick of things and completely forgot about it. I have this habit of doing a rewind once I get back home. I go through the entire day’s events. Right from the time I walked in to the time when the pages were sent off to print. That’s when I suddenly remembered that I had forgotten about Mr Nair.
The next day, the first thing I did was to go to Mr Nair’s office. After a short wait, I walked in. Mr Nair, who was working on his computer, looked up and said: “You’ve been asked to leave. Our experiment by hiring you has failed. According to reports we have received, you don’t even know how to edit. Every story you do, Murali has to go through it again.”
All this he said in one breath, and without another word, turned back to his computer and started working. I stood there stunned for about half a minute, unable to believe what I heard. Losing a job wasn’t what hurt me. I was sure that it was just a matter of a few days before I landed another job. What shocked me beyond belief was how they did it? And how Mr Nair conveyed it to me. I was too stunned to respond and mumbled something and walked off.
I left office and went to a friend’s place. This friend was a former colleague at Hans, who had the same experience—he walked into office one day and was told to leave immediately!! A senior person, who has a long association with Mr Nair asked just a couple of questions: “Did Nair look at you while he was speaking? I mean, did he look directly at you?”
“No,” I said.
“Did he discuss the issue with you or give you a chance to speak?”
“No.”
“Then it is not his decision. It must be from ‘above’.”
After spending a couple of hours at his place (he offered me rum), I returned home. All the while, there were a few questions haunting me. Why did they treat me like this? If I had not been up to their expectations, shouldn’t they have talked to me about my performance? Told me at least once that I have to buck up and perform better? Shouldn’t they have asked me if I had any problems? And if there were issues that could have been sorted out, shouldn’t they have done that? Why didn’t they do all that? Doesn’t a professional organization work like that? I am yet to find answers.
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