I held her tight and felt her body shake. I thought hard about what I could say. Guys can never figure out what to say in such emotional moments and always end up saying something stupid.
“Your mother is crazy …”
“Don't say anything about my mother. I love her. Can you just listen to me for five minutes?” Priyanka said.
“Of course. Sorry …,” I said as her sobs grew louder. I swore to myself to stay quiet for the next five minutes. I started counting my breath to pass time. Sixteen a minute is my average; eighty breaths would mean I had listened to her for five minutes.
“We weren't always like this. My mum and I were best friends once—until class eight I think. Then as I became older, she became crazier,” she said.
I wondered if I should point out that she had just told me not to call her mum crazy. However, I had promised myself I would keep quiet.
“She had different rules for me and my brother, and that began to bother me. She would comment on everything I wore, everywhere I went, whereas my brother … she would never say anything to him. I tried to explain it to her, but she just became more irritating, and by the time I reached college I couldn't wait to get away from her.”
“Uh-uh,” I said, calculating that almost half my time must have passed. My leg was cramping. When sex is over, being in a confined space is a pain.
“All through college I ignored her and did what I wanted. In fact, this whole don't-care phase was born out of that. But at one level I felt so guilty. I tried again to connect with her after college, but she had a problem with everything: my thinking, my friends, my boyfriend.”
The last word caught my attention. I had to speak, even though only fifty-seven breaths had passed.
“Sorry, but did you say boyfriend?”
“Well, yeah. She knows I'm with you. And she has this thing about me finding someone settled.”
Settled? The word rewound and repeated itself in my head several times. What does that mean anyway? Just someone rich, or someone who gets predictable cash flows at the end of every month. Except parents do not say it that way because it sounds like they're trading their daughter to the highest bidder, which in some ways they are. They don't give a damn about love or feelings or crap like that. “Show me the money
and keep our daughter for the rest of your life.” That's the deal in an arranged marriage.
“What are you thinking about?” she said.
“I'm a loser according to your mum, aren't I?” I said.
“That's not what I said.”
“Don't you bring up Bakshi and my promotion every time we have a conversation?” I said, moving away.
“Why do you get so defensive? Anyway, if Bakshi doesn't promote you, you can look for another job.”
“I'm tired of job hunting. There's nothing good out there. And I'm tired of rejections. Moreover, what is the point of joining another call center? I'd just have to start as a junior agent all over again—without you, without my friends. And let me tell you this, I may not be team leader, but I am happy. I'm content. Do you realize that? And tell your drama-queen mum to come and tell me to my face that I'm a loser. And she can send you off with whichever fucking settled-annuity-income earner she likes. I am what I am,” I said, my face beetroot-red.
“Shyam, please can you try and understand?”
“Understand what? Your mother? No, I can't. And you can't either, but I suspect deep down you might agree with her. Like, what am I doing with this loser?” I said.
“Stop talking nonsense,” Priyanka shouted. “I just made love to you, for god's sake. And stop using that loser word,” she said and burst into tears again.
Two brief knocks on the window disturbed our conversation. It was Vroom, and Esha was standing next to him.
“Hello? I thought we came together. You love birds are inseparable, eh?” he said.
Chapter 13
12:45 a.m.
THE LOUD RING OF THE LANDLINE telephone brought me back from 32nd Milestone. Priyanka grabbed the phone. “Hiiiii, Ganesh,” she said, her stretched tone too flirty, if you ask me. But then who the hell cares for my opinion anyway?
I wondered what his tone was like. Get under the table. Tap the phone, Shyam, a voice told me. I immediately scolded myself for such a horrible thought.
“Of course I knew it was you. No one else calls on this emergency line,” Priyanka said and ran her fingers through her hair. Women playing with their hair while talking to a guy is an automatic female preening gesture; I saw it once on the Discovery Channel.
“Yeah,” Priyanka said after a few seconds, “I like cars. Which one are you planning to buy? … A Lexus?”
“A Lexus! The dude is buying a Lexus!” Vroom screamed, loud enough for me to understand that this was an expensive car.
“Ask him which model, ask him, please,” Vroom said, and Priyanka looked at him, startled. She shook her head at Vroom.
“Let them talk, Vroom. They've got better things to discuss than car models,” Esha said.
“What color? C'mon, it's your car. How can I decide for you?” Priyanka said as her fingers started playing with the curled telephone wire. Over the next five minutes Ganesh did most of the talking, while Priyanka kept saying monosyllabic yeses or the equivalent.
Tap the phone, the voice kept banging in my head. I hated myself for it, but I wanted to do it. I wondered when Priyanka would step away from the desk.
“No, no, Ganesh, it's fine, go for your meeting. I'll be here, call me later,” Priyanka said as she ended her call. I guess Mr. Microsoft did have some work to do after all.
“Vroom, is the Lexus a nice car?” Priyanka said.
Vroom was already on the Net, surfing Lexus pictures. He turned his monitor to Priyanka. “Check this out. The Lexus is one of the coolest cars. The guy must be loaded.”
Priyanka looked at Vroom's screen for a few seconds and then turned to the girls. “He wants me to choose the color. Can you believe that? I don't think I should, though,” she said.
Vroom pushed himself back in his swivel chair. “Go for black or silver. Nothing is as cool as the classic colors. But
I'll check out some more for you,” he said. “And tell him the interiors have to be dark leather.”
Meanwhile, my interiors were on fire. I felt like throwing up.
I wondered when I could tap the phone. It was totally wrong, and Priyanka and the rest of the girls would probably kill me if they found out, but I had to do it. It was masochistic, but I just had to hear that ass woo my ex-girlfriend with the promise of expensive cars.
I tried to set the stage so I had an excuse to get under the table.
“Why have there been no calls in the last ten minutes?” I said. “I should check if the connections are fine.”
“Leave it alone,” Esha said. “I'm enjoying the break.”
“Yes, me too,” Radhika said. “And the connection is -fine. Bangalore is just overeager and picking up all the calls.”
“Bio?” Priyanka said to Esha. It was their code word for a visit to the toilet together for a private conversation.
“Sure.” Esha sensed the need for gossip and got up from her chair.
“I'll come too,” Radhika said and stood up. She turned to me: “The girls want a bio break, team leader.”
“You're all going?” I said, pretending to be reluctant, but secretly thrilled. This was my chance. “Well, OK, since nothing much is happening right now.”
As soon as the girls were out of sight, I dived under the table.
“What are you doing?” Vroom said.
“Nothing. I don't think the connections are firm,” I said.
“And what the hell do you know about the connections?” Vroom said. He bent down to look under the table. “Tell me honestly what you're doing.”
I told him about my uncontrollable urge to tap the phone. Vroom scolded me for five seconds, but then got excited by the challenge and joined me under the table.
“I can't believe I'm helping you with this. The girls will kill us if they find out,” Vroom said.
“They won't have a clue,” I said, and connected the wires. “Look, it's almost done.”
Vroom picked up the landline and we tested the arrangement. I could select an option on my computer and listen in on the landline via my headset. Mr. Microsoft was in the bag.
“Why are you doing this?” Vroom said.
“I don't know. Don't ask me.”
“And why are the girls taking so long?”
“You know them, they have their girl talk in the toilet.”
“And you don't want to hear what they're saying? I'm sure they're discussing Mr. Microsoft there.”
“Oh no,” I said, worried about what I could be missing. “Although how would we be able to eavesdrop?”
“From the corner stall of the men's toilet,” Vroom said. “It shares a wall with the girls' toilet. If you press your ear hard against the wall, you can hear them.”
“Really?” I said, my eyes lighting up.
Vroom nodded.
“It'll be wrong, though, eavesdropping through a stall,” I said.
“Yes, it will.”
“But who cares? Let's go,” I said and Vroom and I jumped off our chairs.
Vroom and I squeezed in and bolted the door in the corner stall of the WASG men's toilet. We pressed our ears against the wall until I could hear Radhika's voice.
“Yes, he sounds like a really nice guy,” she was saying.
“But I shouldn't tell him what color to get, no? It's his car and it's so expensive. But do you know what he said?” Priyanka said.
“What?” Radhika said.
“He said, ‘No, it is our car,’ and then he said, ‘You have brought color to my life, so you get to choose the color.’”
“Oh, he sounds so romantic,” Esha said.
“That is such a lame loser line. Color to my life, my ass,” I said to Vroom.
“Shh. They'll hear us, stupid. Keep quiet,” Vroom said and put his hand on my mouth.
“Anyway, how's Anuj?” Priyanka said. I could hear the jingle of her bangles. She was probably brushing her hair.
“Anuj is fine,” Radhika said. “He's at a dealer conference in Kolkata. I think he has to be up late as some dealers can't seem to have enough to drink.”
“Sales jobs are tough,” Esha said. “OK, excuse me, but I have to change this… ouch!”
“What's going on?” I said.
Vroom shrugged his shoulders.
“Esha, your wound hasn't healed for days. Just a Band-Aid isn't enough,” Priyanka said. I guessed Esha was changing the Band-Aid on her shin.
“No, I'm fine. As long as it heals before the Lakme fashion week,” Esha said.
“Let's go back, girls, it is almost 1:00 a.m.,” Radhika said. “Otherwise the boys will grumble.”
“The boys always grumble. Like they never have a cigarette break,” Esha said.
“But today they are extra grumbly At least someone is,” Radhika said.
Vroom pointed a finger at me. Yes, the girls were talking about me.
I grumbled in lip-sync.
“You think Shyam is not taking the news well?” Priyanka said, her voice becoming fainter as they walked toward the toilet's exit.
“You tell us. You know him better than we do,” Esha said.
“I wish I knew him now. I don't know why he sulks and acts so childishly sometimes,” Priyanka said as they left the toilet.
“Childish? Me? I am childish?” I said to Vroom, jumping up and down in the stall. “What the hell. Mr. Microsoft says his cheesy lines and he's cute and romantic. I say nothing and I'm childish,” I banged a fist on the stall door.
“Shyam, don't behave like a kid,” Vroom said.
We came out of the stall and I jumped back a step as I saw Bakshi by the sink.
Through the mirror, Bakshi saw both of us. His jaw dropped as he turned toward us.
“Hello, sir,” Vroom said and went up to the sink next to him.
“Sir, it's not what you think,” I said, pointing back at the stall.
“I'm not thinking anything. What you do in your personal lives is up to you. But why aren't you at the desk?” Bakshi said.
“Sir, we just took a short break. The call traffic is very low today,” I said.
“Did you log your break? The girls are missing from the bay as well,” Bakshi said. His face was turning from shiny pink to shiny red.
“Really? Where did the girls go?” Vroom said.
Bakshi turned away from us and walked to the urinal stalls. I went to the stall adjacent to him.
“Didn't you just use the toilet?” Bakshi said.
“Sir,” I said and hesitated. “Sir, that was different, with Vroom.”
“Please. I don't want to know,” Bakshi said.
“Sir, no,” I said.
Now this is something women never have to deal with: standing next to your boss in the toilet as he pees is one of the world's most awkward situations. What are you supposed to do? Leave him alone or give him company and entertain him? Is it OK to talk to him while he is doing his business or not?
“Sir, how come you're using this restroom?” I said, as I hadn't seen him there before.
“I didn't mean to. I always use the executive toilet,” Bakshi said.
“Yes, sir,” I said and nodded my head. I had acknowledged his magnanimous gesture of peeing in the same bay as us. But why was he here?
“Anyway, I came to your desk to drop off a courier delivery for Esha.”
“Courier?” Vroom said from his position at the sink. “At this time?”
“I've left the parcel on her desk. Just let her know,” Bakshi said as he zipped up.
“And, Sam, can you tell the voice agents to come to my office for a team meeting later, say 2:30 a.m., OK?” Bakshi said.
“What's up, sir?” Vroom said.
“Nothing. I want to share some pertinent insights with the resources. Anyway, can I ask you a couple of questions on the website? You know it well, don't you?”
“Yes, sir. And most questions will be answered in the FAQ section of the user manual we sent you,” Vroom said.
“FAQ?”
“Frequently asked questions.”
“Good. Boston may have some queries. I will rely on you smart people to answer them. For instance, how do you update the site for new computer models?”
“It's easy, sir. Any systems person can modify the website backend and change the queries to suit the model,” Vroom said.
Bakshi asked us a few more questions. They were simple enough for Vroom or me to answer, especially as we had built the website from scratch.
“Good, good. I'm impressed by your knowledge. Anyway, thanks for the user manual, I've already sent it to Boston,” Bakshi said and shook his hands dry. I moved away to avoid any droplets falling on me.
“You did?” both of us said in unison.
“Sir, if you could have copied us in on the e-mail … we'd like to be kept in the loop,” Vroom said. Good one.
“Oh, didn't I? I'm so sorry. I'm not good with e-mails. I'll just forward it to you. But you guys man the bay now, OK?”
“Of course, sir,” I said.
“And have you finished the ad hoc task I gave you?” Bakshi said.
“What, sir?” I said, and then realized he meant the photocopying of the board meeting invite. “Almost done, sir.
Bakshi nodded and left us behind in the restroom. I thought it was weird that Bakshi hadn't copied us in on the e-mail with the attached website proposal, but it didn't surprise me.
“Is he a total moron or what? Can't cc people on an e-mail?” Vroom said.
“Easy, man. Let's get back to the bay,” I said.
Chapter 14
1:00 a.m.
WE RETURNED FROM THE MEN'S ROOM to find the call flow had resumed at the WASG. Radhika explained to a caller how to open his vacuum cleaner. Priyanka advised a l
ady not to put hot pans in the dishwasher. Esha taught an old man to pre-heat an oven and simultaneously dodged his telephonic your-voice-is-so-sexy pass.
Another call flashed on my screen.
“I know this guy. Can I take this call?” Vroom said.
“Who is it?” I raised my eyebrows.
“A prick called William Fox. Listen in if you want,” Vroom said.
I selected the option on my computer.
“Good afternoon, Western Appliances, Victor speaking. How may I help you today, Mr. Fox?” Vroom said.
“You'd better darn well help me, smart ass,” the man on the phone said. He had a rough voice with a heavy southern American accent; he sounded like he was in his mid-thirties and I would guess he was drunk.
“Who is he?” I whispered, but Vroom shushed me.
“Sir, if I may confirm, I am speaking to Mr. William Fox?”
“You bet you are. You think just ‘cos you know my name it's OK to sell me crap Hoovers?”
“What is the problem with your vacuum cleaner, sir? It'saVXIOO?”
“It doesn't suck dust any more. It just doesn't.”
“Sir, do you remember when you last changed the dust bags?” Vroom said.
“Like fuck I remember when I changed the bags. It's just a crap machine, you dumbass.”
Vroom took three deep breaths and remembered the suggested line to use in such situations. “Sir, I request you not to use that language.”
“Oh really? Then make your fucking Hoover work.”
Vroom pressed a button on his phone before he spoke again. “Fuck you first, you sonofabitch prickhead,” he said.
“What are you doing?” I said, panicking.
“Just venting, don't worry it's on mute,” Vroom smirked. “Back to normal now.” He pressed the button again and said, “Sir, you need to change the dust bags when they are full.”
“Who am I speaking to?” the voice on the phone became agitated.
“Victor, sir.”
“Tell me your fucking name. You're some kid in India, am t ya?
“Sir, I'm afraid I can't disclose my location.”
“You're from India. Tell me, boy.”
“Yes, sir. I am in India.”
One Night at the Call Center Page 9
