One night at i-bank (contd)

So where were we? Yes, I recall. The ground had just started shaking, as I realized that the whole "finance" prospect of being a mathematics guy and not worry about colorful and convincing presentations was coming crashing down. As Dumb Charade opened up some old presentations of similar nature for us to imitate, I could not but help wonder why we learn some of the stuff at B-school.

"Yaar - kitne fraud ppts hain yeh - ek mein bhee dhang se formatting nahin hua hai..." Naivety is written all over my face, as I struggle to disguise the obvious with the vernacular.

"Haan yaar - college mein toh itna mast fight maarke ppts banaate hain - chalo inko kuch kar dikhaate hain". I cannot help wonder at Macabre Kolkattan's scary enthusiasm and the laborious vibe he was sending out.

"Theek hai - dekhte hain jaldi jaldi karte hain aur nikalte hain - raat ke 12 baj gaye". Amidst fears of too much Hindi arousing some suspicion, we quickly get to work.

"So what font do we use?"

"What else? We just use the template he sends us. " I can think of no shorter cut. "That way it will be the way he wants it right?"

MK is fast. By the time I have decided on how I want to structure my slides, he's through to the 3rd slide. Overjoyed, I ping him on the online chat client.

"Hey you've done the first 3 slides re - just send them over I'll continue from the later slide - that way things will finish fast."

"Hv alrdy sent 2 him. U carry on." comes the reply.

"Of course. Sure. " I realize that my high school teacher was right when she said there's no substitute for hard work. Not even team work. So much for you, OB prof.

So here I was designing this huge presentation, with all the effort in the world, and finally it gets done by around 12.30. By when, MK has already progressed to explaining a lot of doubts to everyone, and has assumed a near -God status in the vicinity.

"Hey. I just mailed you my ppt. Shall we go over it? "

"Hey yeah man - I saw it - seriously, good stuff man. There's one last thing, and I hate to ask you to do this, but we have to translate this into Chinese, and these guys are doing it. I think they might have some doubts - in understanding what you've written. Can you guys like, hang around for a bit." As I nod my head, I shudder to see that DC has busied himself undo-ing all my formatting, and converting all of it into pictographs that look like roadside signs.

I venture, knowing that I will not be pleased with the answer. "Hey, incidentally, why'd you undo all the formatting? "

"Yeah man - it's honesly awesome, but these guys won't..." and he shakes his head.

"Appreciate it?" I suggest. He shrugs, and I'm not happy. Expected, nonetheless.

Next Morning. The digital timepiece reads "11 AM HONGKONG. 11 PM NEW YORK. " as I stride in to the desk, brimming with confidence and a sense of happiness that I have a kind and considerate boss who lets me make up for the sleep I've lost. That feeling of goodness, though, doesn't last long as I settle down on the desk and check my email.

Unread messages: 12.
Time : 8.00 AM
From: DC
To: MK
CC: MR

The fear that grabs me turns to dejection as I realize that I am too late. MK's like Bilbo Baggins. There and back again. Hell, who cares - I got more sleep than he did - and DC's still not come back to office.

I lock my terminal and walk down to Starbucks for an espresso.

(Concluded)