LEISURE IS PLEASURE

DISCLAIMER: The following text is entirely disconnected from AI technologies like ChatGPT. Some creative liberties have been exercised for brevity.

Bergman

Few artists, such as Ingmar Bergman, have truly embraced the complexity and beauty of the human visage. His dramatic use of light and shadow is reminiscent of the Italian master Caravaggio. Each frame serves as an exemplary lesson in portraiture, particularly evident in his acclaimed film, ‘PERSONA.’

But why the focus on Bergman? While cinema may seem irrelevant to my narrative, the intensity of the events warrants his mention. It is not the film ‘Persona’ that brings us here, but rather Bergman's 1957 masterpiece ‘The Seventh Seal,’ which narrates the tale of a knight who engages in a chess match with death for his survival. The relevance of artists spans generations; if their work fails to mature like fine wine, their artistic merit is questionable. On June 29, 2023, at 3:30 PM, I felt Bergman's influence as he resurfaced in my thoughts.

My previous role at an ed-tech firm relied on antiquated methods to instruct modern learners. Instead of genuine education, the startup faded into obscurity, becoming a target of blame within the educational realm. A wave of layoffs swept through the company, resembling a grim game of hide and seek among employees. The Musk-inspired approach of abrupt terminations was in full swing, as management simultaneously hired and fired, proving their lack of foresight. I sensed I was playing an intricate symphony on a sinking vessel, anticipating the inevitable exit.

JUNE 29th, 3:30 PM

To grasp the day's events, one must understand the company's operations. PAY ATTENTION!

My workday began around 2 PM, accommodating six batches of students, each lasting an hour. Some days offered a reprieve, while others burdened my colleagues with excessive workloads due to random session assignments.

That fateful day, I found myself with little to do, while anxiety gripped my coworkers. Messages flooded my phone: “Did you hear? So-and-so received a vague email from HR…” followed by frantic texts, “WHERE ARE MY SESSIONS?” “SOMEONE ASSIGN ME CLASSES…” and so on.

At 3:30 PM, I received an email devoid of a subject line, yet full of ominous implications, triggering panic. The sender was a senior manager, a figure I occasionally encountered in meetings. His appearance often signaled either blessings or curses. I awaited the scheduled 5:30 PM meeting, which prompted a clever suggestion from Ms. V: “Why not take emergency leave and skip the meeting? Your manager might be unaware of the layoffs.”

“That’s a brilliant idea,” I thought, regretting not appreciating her more in the past. Following her advice, I crafted an eloquent email to announce my absence.

“Let him have a meeting with himself… ha.. ha”

But fate had other plans. Shortly thereafter, another email from the senior manager appeared: “MEETING IS CANCELLED, WILL BE RESCHEDULED.”

A wave of dread washed over me. Like the knight in Bergman’s film, I felt my time was up.

A metaphorical string was plucked, resonating within me (think Detective Byomkesh Bakshi’s chase scene). I answered my phone.

“Hello… ** got laid off,” V whispered urgently.

“Wait, I need a moment to digest that. The SM who was poised to fire me got the axe?”

Ha ha… it seemed SM, the executioner, had fallen victim himself.

DOUBLE CROSS… DOUBLE CROSS!

Laughter erupted, and I fell into a peaceful slumber that night.

JULY 3rd, 2023

The chaotic chase continued. Morning routine commenced at 8:20 AM.

When I first joined the company, anxiety loomed as I navigated social media groups—multiple WhatsApp chats, Gmail threads, and Slack discussions. I drifted among these digital spaces, often overwhelmed by the sheer volume of messages. The stress of workplace dynamics was palpable; I often found myself checking my phone even on days off.

At around 2:30 PM, an email from Mr. S arrived, devoid of a subject—like a phantom return. Discussions circulated about my luck in evading termination. Some believed my manager had shielded me, while others thought my teaching accolades had saved me. But that notion crumbled with the arrival of the email. I scrambled to gather my employment details, knowing access would be cut off soon after receiving the layoff notice. The meeting was set for 5:30 PM, where Mr. S would deliver his scripted lines.

Mr. S, a senior manager, was notorious for his dismal caller tunes—catchy but cringe-worthy. I attempted to reach him before the meeting, but my frustration soared.

Demonstration

Take the hit A. R Rahman song ‘ottagathai kattiko gettiyaka otticko…’ (marry the camel and just cling). I used to misinterpret it as ‘ottagathai kattiko kettiyone thattikko’ (marry the camel and murder the husband).

By 5:30 PM, Mr. S’s face materialized on my screen. The HR smile slowly appeared as he adjusted to the light.

“Shyam, how are you doing?”

“Good afternoon, sir. I’m well, and you?”

“Given the current economic climate, we’re facing resource cuts globally, and unfortunately, you are one of them. I’m sorry to say this; it’s not a reflection of your performance.”

If it’s not performance-related, then it must be luck-based, I mused. I imagined higher-ups placing bets like characters from Shirley Jackson’s "The Lottery."

“Do you have any questions?”

“No, S, I’m fine.”

“Make sure to return all company property. We can’t afford courier services, so you’ll need to deliver them in person.”

Corporate schadenfreude at its finest. Now I faced an eight-hour journey to return assets—adding insult to injury.

“YES…”

“Complete your obligations, and we hope to see you again.”

The real challenge for companies during economic downturns lies in deciding who to lay off. Many managers lack the skills to deliver bad news effectively. I pondered who would have been a better choice to deliver the news—perhaps a beloved actor could bring some empathy to the process.

With the layoff now a reality, I gathered my EPFO details from the portal. Closing my laptop, I leaned back in my chair, feeling the weight of the day.

“Did you lose your job?” my mother asked as I entered the kitchen, her instincts uncanny.

“Yes,” I confirmed.

“I knew it was coming. Why the long face? It’s all over the news.”

“Coffee, please.”

She handed me a cup with a smile.

“Why are you laughing?”

“No more hospitality for the unemployed in this house.”

We both burst into laughter.

I couldn't fully rest, so I dashed back to my room, just shy of 6:30 PM.

Lying in bed, I tried to focus on music but found it hard. I was frustrated.

“Why?”

Isn’t it better this way?

I opened my laptop, updated my CV, and applied for a few jobs. Screen time made me lethargic, and I dozed off. Upon waking, I heard my mother discussing my situation with my father, who had just returned home.

Staring at the ceiling, I noticed patterns I had never observed before. Suddenly, I felt pressure in my mouth, reminding me of the dental bills I owed. It hit me—losing my job also meant finding the funds for my braces… life!

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