Chereads / CALL CENTRE / Chapter 2 - chapter 1

Chapter 2 - chapter 1

I was splashing my hands in the water pointlessly in the sea. I can't even

swim in a pond, let alone in the Indian Ocean. I was in the water while my

boss Bakshi was in a boat next to me. He was pushing my head down in the

water. I saw Priyanka drifting away in a lifeboat. I screamed even as Bakshi

used both his hands to keep my head submerged. Salt water filled my mouth

and nostrils as I heard loud beeps at a distance.

My nightmare ended as my cell phone alarm rang hard in my left ear and

I woke up to its Last Christmas ring tone. The ring tone was a gift from

Shefali, my new semi-girlfriend. I squinted through a half-shut eye and lifted

on the screen.

'Damn,' I said and jumped out of bed.

I would have loved to analyze my dream and its significance in my

insignificant life, but I had to get dressed for work.

'Man, the Qualis will be here in twenty minutes,' I thought, digging

matter out of my eye. I was still tired, but scared to sleep more because I was

getting late. Besides, there was a serious risk of Bakshi making a comeback in

my dreams.

By the way, hi. I am Shyam Mehra, or Sam Marcy as they call me at my

workplace, the Connexions call center in Gurgaon. (American tongues have

trouble saying my real name and prefer Sam. If you want, you can give me

another name too. I really don't care.)

Anyway, I am a call center agent. There was hundred of thousands,

probably millions of agents like me. But this total pain-in-the neck author

chose me, of all the agents in the country. He met me and told me to help

with his second book. In fact, he near as well wanted me to write the book for

him. I declined, saying I can't even write my resume or even other simple

things in life, there is no way I can write a whole damn book. I explained to

him how my promotion to the position of team leader had been put off for

one year because my manager Bakshi had told me I don't have the 'required

skill-set's yet. In my review, Bakshi wrote that I was 'not a go-getter'. (I don't

even know what 'go-getter' means, so I guess I'm not one for sure.)

But this author said he didn't care—he had promised someone he'd do

this story so I'd better cooperate, otherwise he would keep pestering me. I

tried my best to wriggle out of it, but he wouldn't let go of me. I finally

relented and that's why I'm stuck with this assignment, while you are stuck

with me.

I also want to give you one more warning. My English is not that great—

actually, nothing about me is great. So, if you are looking for something posh

and highbrow, then I'd suggest you read another book which has some big

many-syllabus words. I know only one big, many-syllable word, and I hate that

word—'management'. But we'll get to that later. I told the author about my

limited English. However, the pain-in-the-neck author said big emotions do

not come from big words. So, I had no choice but to do the job. I hate authors. For now, let us go back to the story. If you remember, I had just

woken up at my home.

There were noises in the living room. Some relatives were in town to

attend a family wedding. My neighbor was getting married to his cousin…er

sorry, I was too groggy to figure this out—no, my cousin was getting married to

his neighbor. But I had to work, so I could not go to the wedding. It doesn't

matter, all marriages are the same, more or less.

I reached the bathroom still half-asleep, it was already occupied.

The bathroom door was open. I saw five of my aunts scrambling to get a

few square-inches of the wash-basin mirror. One aunt was cursing her

daughter for leaving the matching bindis at home. Another aunt had lost the

little screw of her gold earring and was flipping out.