The Butterfly Diaries 03- The Wide Window
While the IT industry represents a wide window of opportunities for a diverse set of candidates, the IT buildings do not have even a narrow window. It was the first time in my life when I was spending a considerable amount of time in an air-conditioned environment.
And a considerable time it was, for the training was rigorous. It had to be, for the objective was to bring together a bunch of young kids from diverse educational backgrounds and stamp them into a similar mold. After all, the diversity was not intentional but a by-product of an attempt to make up for the lack of a captive student base by skimming the cream off the student bases in other fields.
The first month focused on introduction to computers, Windows basics and soft skills. At the end of the month, a sorting hat would declare not just our technology stream but our business unit as well. No one knew the basis for this selection. The financially lucrative American market and the cutting-edge Internet technologies were the most sought after. The legacy mainframe technology and the financially lackluster Asia-Pacific market were the least sought after with Europe and Open Systems technology offering the middle ground.
The only selection factor we could influence was our first-month grades and we toiled to score well – a throwback to the first year at college when everyone slogged away in quest of the elusive branch change.
Amidst the hectic training schedule, the hour or two before sleep at home provided a window of relaxation. We had started with the two Telugu guys sharing one bedroom and me sharing the other with the Malayali. But it soon came out that the soft-spoken new housemate turned into a demon the moment sleep descended on him, and no corner of the room was safe from his perambulating arms and legs. So, our Telugu friend quietly shifted into our bedroom. And with one more classmate who was to join a different company later that year often visiting us, we ended up with four in our room.
But the limitation of space was compensated by abundance of fun. There was so much to talk about – present and past for we had been in the same branch at college for four years. Of course, a good amount of laughter was at the expense of our fellow new joiners. But it was all in good spirit. I’m sure other groups had nicknames for us too, gossiped about us and had fun caricaturing our expressions and idiosyncrasies.
We were settling into a rhythm, little aware of the impending doom that was to accompany the sorting. For the September Pune transfer that I had dodged had arrived. It had missed me but found two of our roommates – the two Telugu guys. So many homes and friendships were broken. So many plans went out of the window. There was frantic lobbying to obtain swaps. While momma’s boy was happy to leave, we tried our best to get our friend retained by having someone else go in his place. But to no avail. In the spirit of one for all and all for one, I offered to go into exile along with our friend if the Malayali agreed as well. But unfortunately, for personal reasons, he had to stay in the same city. And so, we could not avoid breaking up our group.
With just the two of us remaining, we either had to surrender the house or get hold of new roommates. We decided to do both. Having experienced the rigors of the training, we realized that with no time to spare, living in the city did us no good. And we came to know of a house right behind our office where the rent was much lower. We saved commute time plus we could step into office at night for free dinner for the only proof of an employee staying late to work was their presence at office during dinner time. And we also came to know of another person who was looking for a new group. We decided to take him into our fold after assuring ourselves about his sleep movements and maternal visits.
Only after we got over the loss of our friend and the inconveniences of shifting homes did we get an opportunity to think about our own sorting. All three of us, including the new roommate, were assigned to Europe and Open Systems. This Open Systems thingy was a strange assortment of technologies – Unix for the operating system, C for overall programming, Visual Basic for the front end, and Oracle for the backend. I could not for the life of me figure out how Visual Basic could be called an open system by any stretch of the imagination. I was not aware of anything open about any Microsoft product except for the name of its flagship operating system – and even those Windows needed to be shut down all the time.
And a considerable time it was, for the training was rigorous. It had to be, for the objective was to bring together a bunch of young kids from diverse educational backgrounds and stamp them into a similar mold. After all, the diversity was not intentional but a by-product of an attempt to make up for the lack of a captive student base by skimming the cream off the student bases in other fields.
The first month focused on introduction to computers, Windows basics and soft skills. At the end of the month, a sorting hat would declare not just our technology stream but our business unit as well. No one knew the basis for this selection. The financially lucrative American market and the cutting-edge Internet technologies were the most sought after. The legacy mainframe technology and the financially lackluster Asia-Pacific market were the least sought after with Europe and Open Systems technology offering the middle ground.
The only selection factor we could influence was our first-month grades and we toiled to score well – a throwback to the first year at college when everyone slogged away in quest of the elusive branch change.
Amidst the hectic training schedule, the hour or two before sleep at home provided a window of relaxation. We had started with the two Telugu guys sharing one bedroom and me sharing the other with the Malayali. But it soon came out that the soft-spoken new housemate turned into a demon the moment sleep descended on him, and no corner of the room was safe from his perambulating arms and legs. So, our Telugu friend quietly shifted into our bedroom. And with one more classmate who was to join a different company later that year often visiting us, we ended up with four in our room.
But the limitation of space was compensated by abundance of fun. There was so much to talk about – present and past for we had been in the same branch at college for four years. Of course, a good amount of laughter was at the expense of our fellow new joiners. But it was all in good spirit. I’m sure other groups had nicknames for us too, gossiped about us and had fun caricaturing our expressions and idiosyncrasies.
We were settling into a rhythm, little aware of the impending doom that was to accompany the sorting. For the September Pune transfer that I had dodged had arrived. It had missed me but found two of our roommates – the two Telugu guys. So many homes and friendships were broken. So many plans went out of the window. There was frantic lobbying to obtain swaps. While momma’s boy was happy to leave, we tried our best to get our friend retained by having someone else go in his place. But to no avail. In the spirit of one for all and all for one, I offered to go into exile along with our friend if the Malayali agreed as well. But unfortunately, for personal reasons, he had to stay in the same city. And so, we could not avoid breaking up our group.
With just the two of us remaining, we either had to surrender the house or get hold of new roommates. We decided to do both. Having experienced the rigors of the training, we realized that with no time to spare, living in the city did us no good. And we came to know of a house right behind our office where the rent was much lower. We saved commute time plus we could step into office at night for free dinner for the only proof of an employee staying late to work was their presence at office during dinner time. And we also came to know of another person who was looking for a new group. We decided to take him into our fold after assuring ourselves about his sleep movements and maternal visits.
Only after we got over the loss of our friend and the inconveniences of shifting homes did we get an opportunity to think about our own sorting. All three of us, including the new roommate, were assigned to Europe and Open Systems. This Open Systems thingy was a strange assortment of technologies – Unix for the operating system, C for overall programming, Visual Basic for the front end, and Oracle for the backend. I could not for the life of me figure out how Visual Basic could be called an open system by any stretch of the imagination. I was not aware of anything open about any Microsoft product except for the name of its flagship operating system – and even those Windows needed to be shut down all the time.
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