I sat back and glared at my laptop screen in frustration. The email intimated me of yet another performance review – the fourth in six months. For a company that does not pay very well – it sure as hell finds multiple occasions to ‘appraise’ its employees. This time it was meant to be a telecom review with a panel comprising ‘senior management from the company’ and my immediate reporting manager – Durga.

Word on the street has it that they were most unhappy with Durga’s recommendation for an out-of-turn promotion and increment for me. The unhappiness manifested itself as repeated clarifications, discussions and finally ballooned into a full blown power struggle that was escalated all the way up to the Chief Operating Officer for a resolution. I got my increment – and they – simmered away, waiting for the next occasion to prove their point. This was going to be that occasion.

Anyways – enough of background now. So I glared at the laptop screen in frustration. This was unbelievable. I had been appraised more number of times than a new bride steals shy glances at her newly wedded husband. And yet somehow, here I was, yet again listing out my role responsibilities and accomplishments in a template that appeared jaded and somehow clinical. Work has been a bit of a roller coaster ride – long hours, limited personal time and an environment of stress and uncertainty. Sometimes even Durga’s repeated encouragement and appreciation strikes a hollow chord.

And so, I perfunctorily populated the review template and sullenly dragged it over to Durga for his approval. He was inordinately busy – buried in a pile of papers and phone calls – trying very hard to keep a collapse of the entire system at bay. He definitely did NOT have the time for this red tape-ism right now.

“Can you spare a minute or two please?” I asked with some hesitation.

“Sure”, he peered up at me. “Sit down. What seems to be the problem?”

“Oh, you need to appraise me yet again. I am so sorry. It appears like the feedback process in this company is unidirectional and robust!”

He smiled gently and reached out his hand for the appraisal template. “I do agree. Let’s have a look, shall we?”

For the subsequent ten minutes, the only sound in his office, was of his pen scratching away vigorously at the papers, while I gazed around the book shelves tentatively.

“You cannot be so routine about your appraisal Shruti”, he said suddenly. “You have to tell people what you have done – what SHRUTI has done. You have to educate them on the difficulties you face – this is most unlike a regular assignment.”

“Hrrmph”, I mumbled.

He seemed to have not heard me.

“Take it back. Make the additions I have scribbled. Try and add some more color and detail. Your passion is missing in this. Write about how this assignment has had a physical, intellectual and emotional strain on you”.

I stood up and dragged my feet out unwillingly.

He raised a quizzical eyebrow at me, “You seem to believe otherwise?”

“It’s just that they often convey that being a premium recruit implies tremendous hardship – late work hours, poor rewards and tough appraisals. They won’t appreciate it.”

“But tell me Shruti – do you think it is sustainable?” he asked me gently. “And moreover, why would that stop you from fighting? I could not have implemented so many things if you were not around.”

“It just seems over rated to me, that’s all.”

One look at his expression and I knew that I had gone too far.

Pressing his mouth into a thin straight line he reacted; “Leave the ratings to me please. You concentrate on the communication. Please spend an hour or two and really think about it.”

I walked out and flung the sheets of paper on my desk.

My colleagues looked at me and tried to console me with some well meaning, albeit even more depressing thoughts: “Relax, you are just caught in a power struggle. It’s got nothing to do with you. Just get done with this.”

Finally, after much procrastination, there were no excuses left to avoid sprucing up the presentation. I chewed on the end of my pencil as I tried to think of interesting points I could add. I jogged my memory for interactions I’d had with teams, problems we’d dealt with and challenges we had faced. Durga had scribbled little pointers on each sheet and I used them to add depth. Eventually it reached some level of respectability and so at an unearthly hour in the morning, I clicked the ‘Send’ button and dispatched it to all the reviewers.

The appraisal call started ten minutes late. Durga was in a meeting that had spilled over, I was unable to find the dial in code and my stomach was a jumble of nerves and butterflies. I hated being there. Much too soon though, we were in the call.

The Associate HR Director called out plaintively, “Shall we begin? Shruti please start your presentation.” And so the ordeal began. Slide after slide, I took them through my points – adding Durga’s penciled in notes and little details from my experiences. After the first two slides, the curious combination of breathlessness and listlessness I was encountering had faded away. It stopped bothering me that I was being appraised by an audience who knew nothing about me, and who probably merely wanted to prove that I did not deserve the increment that I was receiving.

It was almost like there was a spectator Shruti inside me, who was listening to what I had to say for the very first time – listening, appreciating and encouraging – reliving my experiences as I waded through them. I remembered details I had forgotten, relived and really appreciated the stress and pressures that I had encountered and re-celebrated the successes that I had achieved. It was an alien experience – almost like waking up.

The presentation wound up and the panel started to give their reactions and feedback. They were unanimously appreciative of the work I had done, the commitment that seemed to jump out at them and the clarity that my communication carried. I had Durga to thank for most of it.

But mostly, I could not wait for the niceties to be dispensed with and for the call to be over. There was a wave of warmth spreading from my toes and fingertips to my cheeks and ears. It was nice to be appreciated. But more importantly it was most fulfilling to be able to enjoy my own journey. What is a simple task for most people to appreciate – really came together for me only after this presentation. Life’s little joys are in the details – in the memories we create and the enrichment we gain from re-living them. Accomplish this and then how well other people receive you, or even the politics that may surround you, starts to fade into insignificance.

Sometimes it is good just to be reminded.

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