Alok Kulhar,
Delhi, Recruitment

It was my third day in the office and precisely my first day on the job. I was told the floor was mine and I could sit wherever I felt the closest to sanity! My targets were explained to me, and what I had to deliver in a month here was precisely what I delivered in a year at my previous job. Yes, exciting start — if you will.
 
I chose a table towards the entrance, because it had fewer people around. But specifically because it was a little far from where my team was sitting.
 
I noticed this one guy sitting nearby, and I didn’t really bother. But it’s just curiosity sometimes, right? You keep observing everyone at a new place, to ideally figure out what works at a new place. You try to figure out the right kind of behaviour, reactions, attitude, etc. This chap seemed casually dressed and pretty approachable. Whatever little I overheard from his table made me realize he uses simple words and says simple things. He kept rolling and rocking the chair he was in to a point where he was about to fall. No shoes, intense concentration, and spoke very little. He had this ‘mere bhai’ (like an affectionate elder brother) attitude every time he spoke to someone, and was grabbing a bite out of every possibly edible thing around him. He was composed but not calm, if you know what I mean. I assumed he was an intern, but I wanted to know which team he was in. He was certainly not in recruitment! My guesses were Tech or Design. I peeked at his laptop to see if he was on Corel Draw designing a spoon, or doing some crazy programming on a dark screen. To my surprise, neither. He was typing a never-ending email.
 
On my second day at work, I saw more people like him on the floor. Simple people engrossed and so deeply engaged in whatever they were doing. There was fire in ever corner, metaphorically speaking. But this fire made this place so beautiful. It made people do exactly what they are supposed to do — work. I saw the same chap again, sitting a little closer to where I was sitting this time, eating lunch at his table and laughing out loud. No shoes again, and a little less intense. He received a call on his cellphone, and he rushed to find a corner to speak, face full of expression and mouth full of food. While he was away, I wanted to know who this boy next door is. I peeked into the computer screen again to see another never-ending email being typed.
 
The top right corner of gmail read: deepinder@zomato.com