“Raichand posted a message in our group over the weekend,” Swami reported over coffee, voice tight with irritation. “Urgent meeting. Monday morning. Subject: Annual Goalsetting.”
One week into the new year, and his holiday glow had vanished.
“So now you must be having complete clarity about your annual goals, presumably,” Jigneshbhai said calmly, stirring his tea with the serenity of a man who has no goals except finishing his cup of coffee.
“Clarity is a rare thing,” Swami snapped. “I got ready early and reached the office. Sat at my desk. Finished breakfast. Checked emails. Had coffee. And waited.”
“So the meeting didn’t happen?” I asked.
“Can you let me complete?” Swami glared.
We nodded.
“After a while, I went to ask Chimpu.”
“Chimpu?” Jigneshbhai and I chorused.
“His name is Sanjay. But he’s Raichand’s favourite, so we call him Chimpu. He usually has the inside scoop.”
“And?”
“He knew nothing. He was as clueless as the rest of us. Five of us had been called. Nobody had a clue. And Raichand was missing.”
“So… lunch?” Jigneshbhai guessed.
Swami exhaled. “Yes. We waited till lunch. Then, after lunch, Raichand marched in. Called us all to his cabin. First thing he said—‘I’m not happy with any of you.’”
“Standard opening line,” Jigneshbhai murmured.
Swami ignored him. “‘If the customer is not happy, you have no right to be in your jobs,’ he thundered.”
“And?”
“We all kept quiet. Heads down. He went on for fifteen minutes, scolding us, till finally he ordered us to fix the issue and rushed out.”
“What issue?” I asked.
“A customer had written directly to the CEO over New Year,” Swami said. “Complaints, drama. According to Chimpu, the fellow doesn’t even pay on time. But the CEO had forwarded it to Raichand. So now it became our ‘urgent annual goal.’”
“So?”
“So, we spent the next three hours firefighting. Drafting replies, arranging calls, pacifying the man. By evening, we gave Raichand an update when he came back from the CEO’s office. He nodded, said good, and that was it.”
“And the annual goalsetting?” I asked.
Swami sighed. “Not a word about that. Apparently, as of yesterday, our only goal is to understand customers better. Be more customer centric. That’s his mantra.”
Jigneshbhai leaned back with his half-smile. “Customer-centric, boss-centric—it keeps changing. Tomorrow will bring a new slogan. Goals, like New Year resolutions, shift with the mood.”
Swami rubbed his forehead. “So, what are my goals then?”
Jigneshbhai sipped his tea. “Simple. Show up. Say yes. Survive. And let Raichand announce the rest when he remembers.”
I chuckled. Swami didn’t. But a reluctant grin tugged at his lips.
“Maybe you’re right,” he said at last. “My annual goal should be to survive Raichand’s constantly changing annual goals.”
“Now that,” Jigneshbhai said dryly, “is a goal worth setting.”
“At least till tomorrow,” Swami said, a smile finally appearing on his face.
***
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