‘Oh, I don’t know. My boss is South Indian,’ I said.
‘Yes, but you have just started. Maybe he is right. We hate the limelight. I know
I should present this, but I don’t want to.’
‘Why?’
‘Because knowledge is not for showing off. If I do good work, people should
notice me. I cannot go sell myself like that shameless Verma.’
I nodded, more to tell him I listened than in agreement. There is no better
source of wisdom than two drunk men.
‘Right?’
‘Depends.’ I said.
‘On what?’
‘Did you feel bad when they didn’t make you GM?’ I said.
Uncle looked at me for a few seconds. He leaned forward from the sofa to
come near me. ‘Let me tell you one thing. What is your name?’ he said.
Obviously, I was not anywhere close to getting close to him. ‘Krish,’ I said.
‘Of course, sorry, this whisky ... Anyway, Krish, I had offers. Ten years back I
had offers from multinational banks. But I stayed loyal to my bank. And I was
patient to get my turn to be GM. Now, I have five years to retire and they send this
rascal North Indian.’
‘You did feel bad,’ I said.
‘I still feel horrible. I haven’t even told this to my wife. I am drinking too much,’
he said.
‘It’s OK. The point is, if you feel horrible then you need to do what it takes to
get to be number one. And....’ I stopped myself.
‘What? Say it,’ he said.
‘And if you don’t have marketing skills, then better admit that than take a moral
high ground about knowledge. You’ve done good work, let the world know. What
the hell is cheap or shameless about that?’
Uncle didn’t respond.
nora
(Nora)
#1