Month: December 2023

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Life Lessons in a Lift

Living in a condominium is a valuable experience and it provides opportunities to deal with crisis situations. One learns important life lessons and, if one is receptive enough, there are significant management takeaways too. Recently, I encountered a classic case of management by shared responsibility and decision-making by delay. I also learnt a useful lesson in problem-solving through out-of-the-box thinking.

The crisis was caused by the sudden drop in temperatures in late November when winter finally decided to arrive. Quite unsuspectingly, I entered the lift one day and was stunned by a blast of cold air on my large forehead. To say that I was miffed would be an understatement. I was annoyed, irritated and chafed. But the cold breeze continued to freeze my head as the lift descended from the 20th to the ground floor. I could not turn off the lift fan because the control panel was locked behind a steel panel. So, I upbraided the watchman, who doubles as the liftman, and told him to switch the fan off. But he refused, declaring that he had no instructions to do so.

I then marched to the maintenance office, where a prissy young woman sits behind her desk to record complaints. I made my annoyance known in no uncertain terms and demanded that all lift fans be switched off. “Oh, but we can’t do that, sir. We have no orders,” she said. “So, get your blooming orders,” I replied curtly. But she did not budge. “The orders have to come from the RWA — the Residents’ Welfare Association.”

Realising that the woman was but an underling, I decided to take up the matter with the secretary general of the RWA. Despite the impressive designation, he, too, refused to take any decision, bold or otherwise. “I think it would be advisable to have a board meeting on this matter,” he muttered. I insisted that no one needed fans in winter. That blighter pointedly looked at my bald head and smirked, “Well some might not.” The man will never know how close he came to being murdered.

I checked with the secretary general every day thereafter. He reluctantly informed me that the RWA Board had decided to call a general body meeting to take a decision and that might take a month or more. I begrudged my helplessness and each time I entered the lift, I chafed and fumed and raged because of the blast of cold air on my pate.

The problem was solved last week when I was in the lift and a snot-nosed boy got in on the 10th floor. He prised open the steel cover of the control panel with a coin and switched the fan off. When we reached the ground floor, he switched it back on! Now, if the powers that be cannot decide whether to switch the fan off in freezing January or to switch it on in sweltering June, I am not the least bit concerned. You see, I now always carry a coin in my pocket!

(Tribune – 27/12/2023)

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The Timeless Timepiece

  • Attending international conferences in foreign countries sounds more attractive than it actually is. The long flights, packed meeting schedules and formal receptions leave no time for seeing the sights, and the monotonously similar hotel rooms make one conference seem like any other. After just a few weeks, it is sometimes difficult to even remember which city one had visited. But there is a small timepiece that sits on my study table, reminding me with every tick-tock of one trip that was different.

It was about fifteen years back that I visited Tokyo to attend a conference. The schedule was depressingly hectic, so I decided to skip one session to visit the famed Electric City, which has hundreds of shops selling a mindboggling range of electronic goods. On an impulse, I decided to buy an iPod, that small electronic device which could store and play music. A helpful salesgirl showed me a range of products. Even though she did not know English and I was not conversant in Japanese, through giggles and gestures, she helped me select an iPod of 4-GB capacity from among several choices. I then went to the cash counter and paid for it. The salesgirl handed over the iPod in a carry bag and I proceeded to the exit of the store. Before I stepped out, I paused to admire my purchase, but then I saw that the iPod given to me was a 1-GB model and not the 4-GB version that I had paid for. I returned to the counter and through gestures explained the mistake to the salesgirl.

I had expected her to apologise and give me the product I had purchased. I was, however, totally unprepared for her reaction. She blanched and seemed to be in a state of shock! She started babbling rapidly in Japanese and sobbing at the same time. She then fled from the counter and returned with her supervisor, both of whom kept explaining something incoherently. I assumed that they were apologising and kept assuring them that it was okay. But the obviously unhappy supervisor then fetched the store manager, who knew a bit of English. The latter volubly apologised in a flood of Japanese and broken English. I tried to make light of it, saying that anyone could have made this simple mistake. But the salesgirl, her supervisor and the manager stood before me in obvious distress and bowed repeatedly. Quite at a loss, I bowed back several times. The manager insisted on giving me the iPod free of cost. I was equally adamant that I would pay for it. Ultimately, we compromised, and the manager gifted me a small clock to atone for their slip-up.

That iPod is now long gone, lost in the folds of time and technological obsolescence. But the small timepiece still ticks away on my study table to remind me of a foreign visit that was made special by Japanese courtesy and meticulousness.

(The Tribune – 13/12/23)