Sad people food & another Gulab Jamun — My taste of corporate politics
“Sanandan loves the role (of class representative) … there’s not much to do, but it feels important,” remarked my classmate many moons ago. It was funny and accurate back then. And perhaps now too.
I am a member of the Canteen Committee at my office. I’d attribute my selection to my competitive spirit. And I’d ask you to gently overlook the fact that nobody else volunteered. There are two types of people in the world after all. Ones who are drawn to anything shiny under the sun. And those who have other things to do.
The office administration meets all members of the canteen committee at monthly intervals. We are to share concerns and raise issues with the canteen services. On bad days, the meetings are tirades of complaints. On good days, perfectly chilled water is served with this tirade.
There is a pronounced democratic dimension to these proceedings. The progress is slow. Attendance can be low. There was even a meeting when nobody showed up.
But I take my role as a representative of my department quite seriously. I attend most meetings and voice the issues I gather.
Biryani doesn’t need tutty-fruity
The vending machine doesn’t have any cashews
The lacha parathas need to be made available at all times
The vada should be crispy outside and soft inside, not the other way around!
The concerns often get a little too colourful.
“There’s too much pudina (mint) in the buttermilk! ….. It feels like a pudina milkshake now!” a member pointed out.
In the world I live mint and milk are not meant to mix. It must be their gastronomic fate. Or perhaps:
But the combination of milk & mint reminds me of the Synesthesia spectrum. Maybe there are folks out there who experience such things
For Deepavali lunch, they served pitla. I mean, Pitla?! That …. Is just sad people food! a member pointed out.
Calling this sad people food suggests the existence of a happy people food.
And I wonder what that is?
(PS it’s gulab jamun)
As someone who straddles between beliefs that cooking is a labour of love and a deeply fatiguing chore, I ask :
Does all long process work done to cook elaborate dishes actually make one happy?
Are festivals just conspiracies to spend money and get tired?
But hey, you ought to do it in good clothes. ‘Cause you know :
Perhaps it’s my capitalism spiralling in. Let me revert to a less complicated subject — Corporate politics.
In service design literature, there are terms frequently thrown around. Organisational hurdles. Political challenges. Client Buy-in. This hindrance, that issue. Shows like The Office & Utopia portray them well — grotesque, funny yet accurate in their own accord.
When I say corporate politics, you’re probably thinking of something sad and/or spicy. But politics is also participation & change. The Canteen Committee participates. We complain. And things change!
Pineapples are scrutinized better. Sweet menu is updated. Boiled eggs are available.
Through the canteen committee, I found myself nominating myself for another committee — the city level canteen committee. And through this crème de la crème committee, I experienced one of my favourite experiences as a corporate employee– site visit!
The site visit is an embodiment of a colloquial Kannada saying —ಕೆಲಸಕ್ಕೆ ಕರಿಬೇಡಿ, ಊಟಕ್ಕೆ ಮಾರಿಬೇಡಿ (kelasakke karibedi, oottakke maribedi).
It translates to don’t call me for work, don’t forget me for lunch.
And a site visit is precisely that — food served with an illusion of productivity.
You hop onto a tempo Traveller.
You visit a new office
You survey their kitchen.
You learn of admin lingo like FIFO.
On a regular day, I’d assume fifo was the name of a Gen-Z pet. On other days, I wonder if I am a Gen-Z or a millennial.
FIFO stands for First in First Out. It’s the mechanism of clearing purchased stock of groceries and vegetables. The half-opposite of a LIFT — Last In, First To-Exit.
After exposure to such a foreign language, you dine! #EmilyInParis?
The prime agenda of a site visit to screen potential vendors to serve at your office canteen.
Here’s biryani.
This is butter naan.
Here’s our famous orange juice.
That is papaya shake.
This is tandoori aloo.
Nonveg is on its way! The staff explained.
I ate with joy. It was a small step away from my desk. But a giant leap from my digital monotony.
Would you like anything else? Asked the vendor with eager courtesy.
To that, I replied, “Another Gulab Jamun, please!”
