Shoma, The Other Woman
Utopia: War on Mediocrity Part Three
“But you never pointed out one thing, mother, it’s all very well working hard, showing commitment, taking responsibility and delivering results but what if someone points out there is a fourth requirement. Do you know what that fourth missing requirement is, mother — the one that you missed from the lesson over the cottage pie? It’s the need to grow a thick skin, to be insensitive — to be so bloody insensitive that you are immune to criticism even if the criticism comes from someone who would fail every one of your first three tests.” — Jim Smith in Terry Morgan’s ‘The Whistleblower’ (2014)
“I consider you one of our own”. Swnathan said sipping his vodka and pineapple. “And hence I am asking you this.”
We continued our conversation.
“Excuse me.” Vodka had now given me the courage for a modest interruption. “What do you mean by “one of US”? Why do you have to talk as if you are the head of a cult or something? And second- a minor point — who uses ‘hence’ in a casual conversation?”
Swanathan laughed. “ I will ignore the second point.” He was ruder than I had thought. “And I won’t answer the first one. “ “I hope you are not silly to take that as a compliment or as a pick-up line. I think you know what I mean when I say you are one of us.”
Did I know what he meant? May be, I did. I wasn’t really sure. I was sure of only one thing. The vodka and pineapple combination was working for me. Or perhaps the conversation had added a tinge to the cocktail.
“Now, if you can still focus, listen to me carefully. Do you sometimes feel that mediocre are doing better than you? Have you — more often than not — feel that you are being outsmarted, overshadowed, outbid by somebody who is outright mediocre or even dumb, has no talent whatsoever? Do you feel that you are being overtaken almost every day by people who are just extremely ordinary? If you do, then you are one of us.”
He stopped. I took a moment to make sure that he had really finished. I needed a break to gather some courage and thankfully the restaurant manager approached us at that moment to check if everything is going well. He knew Swanathan personally and they exchanged some pleasantries. I had already composed my thoughts when he left.
“Of course I do.” I told Swanathan. “ I do feel that I am being overtaken by mediocrity. But can I ask you one thing ? How do we- you and I- relate in this aspect with each other? You are at the top in the company. I am at the bottom. You own this big crazy company, in case you have forgotten. I work for you for a salary that is perhaps less than what you spend on shampooing your office carpet every month!” I could see that he was listening to me and was intrigued a little bit. “But let me answer your question. Yes, I feel overshadowed, outsmarted and outbid every day — How does that matter to you?”
“Well. Exactly. You have hit the nail on the head.” Swanathan said in his annoyingly victorious tone. Hit the nail on the head? I thought that only people in the eighteenth century used that phrase! “You admit that you feel being overshadowed. Yet, you attribute that feeling to your lowly position in the company. Trust me. Your position and salary have nothing to do with that feeling. Even if I promote you ten levels higher, you would probably have the same feeling, perhaps with a ten-fold intensity. The fact of the matter is that the mediocre overshadow and outbid the talented everyday in this industry — and perhaps elsewhere.”
I laughed, perhaps a little too loudly. The elderly gentleman sitting at a neighbouring table looked at us with a smirk and then turned his attention back to his pasta.
“You are calling me talented?” I said amidst the laughter. “Now that’s definitely a pick-up line, Swanathan.”
“No.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone. “I am not calling you talented because I want to pick you up. I am calling you talented because I know you are talented. And, by the way,” he says smiling mischievously. “if I wish to pick you up, I do not need a pick-up line. My shoulders are strong enough.”
What the heck! To my surprise, I blush. I feel blood rushing to my face and my cheeks must be showing some redness. Oh cummon, cummon Shoma, I tell myself — You are not going to have sex with him; at least not tonight! You are not going to give in that easily.
As luck would have it, a very polite waiter approaches us and saves me for further disgrace. The waiter bows courteously and asks us if we we would like to continue with our vodka- pineapple combination or would seek a variation.
“Repeat this for us and also get me some lime juice.” Swanathan orders seeking my consent mutely. I am in no mood to care about petty things such as cocktails. Moreover, I realise that I have started trusting him — at least for the choice of drinks and mixers.
“ So where was I?” He says that with the leer of a seasoned seminar speaker . “Oh, yes. The mediocre outsmart the talented every day. This can happen to all of us. This can happen to me if I don’t protect myself from the attack.”
“Cummon you pompous big hind side. Don’t you say that you feel as vulnerable as I do.”, I feel like saying. “You don’t even have a hint of what goes on every day in your office.”
Then I wonder if I might have said that aloud. Most hopefully I might not have because Swanathan was still with me observing a cashew nut held between his fingers.
“So to come back to the point,” he exclaimed after finishing his cashew nut observation. “We need to protect ourselves from mediocre. We know this, yet we do not get into action because the problem is that we have scant idea of how to fight with mediocrity. Worse, we try to use logic and reason as our weapons or shields. That makes the victory of mediocrity most certain.”
“What do you mean? I fail to understand. Does that mean mediocrity has tools and weapons that are superior to logic and reason?”
“No. Mediocrity is not superior. It still wins because in a war, it’s not always that superiority wins. To win a war, you need to be tenacious, not just superior.”
“Hmm.. Good Point.” I paused because he was really making me think. I also became a bit self-conscious because my eyelids flutter a lot when I am thinking.
“All right, I think I would agree to your proposition that to win a war one needs to be tenacious. Yet, that makes me wonder. Aren’t logic and reason tenacious? I mean, if I am really good in reasoning, and I am consistently logical, I can also be tenacious, right?”
For the first time in our meeting today, I could see Swanathan searching for right words. Then he gathers himself quickly. “I think you have a point there” He said. (Thank god, he sometimes acknowledges my point!) Logic and reason can be tenacious, if they wish to be. Yet, in a war with mediocrity they are not weapons good enough.”
Sujoy should listen to this, I thought. Sujoy is my supervisor. He is perhaps the dumbest guy in our Creativity department. Others in the department have stopped arguing with him because “there is no point”. I am the only one who breaks her head every morning trying to reason with him and trying to convince him with logic. I never win. Sujoy just does not see my logic, or anybody’s logic, really.
Swanathan is perhaps referring to such people when he says that reason and logic are the worst tools to fight with the mediocre. He has diagnosed the problem correctly but does he have any remedy to the problem? I decide to be patient.
I suddenly realise that he is asking me whether we should order dinner first and then both of us begin to rummage through the obscenely large-sized multi-page menu that almost looks like a coffee-table book.
**
To be continued …
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Picture credits: Dusan ‘Cafe People’; Picasso ‘Portrait de Jaime Sabartes’
