Piyush Jain writes on the upsides and downsides of the 'nine to six' way of life. Piyush heads team Blue Bytes.
It’s 9.27 a.m. and I have just stepped out of the bus which brings me from Victoria Terminus to the heart of Colaba. Office is still a couple of blocks away. I realise that if I walk quickly (without stopping to buy my daily dose of nicotine) I might just get to office on time. I break into a half-run, weaving, ducking, swaying to avoid the morning crowd and various other obstacles.
9.29 a.m.: I am inside the building breathing heavily from my exertions. I keep my finger pressed on the lift button, almost willing it to come down. I curse under my breath as the liftman seems to take forever to first open, then shut the lift door. Will I still be on time? The lift, a monumentally slow contraption, rattles its way upwards. It comes to a shaky halt at the fourth floor. I push hard at the lift door and rush out, the swipe card in my hand poised to make contact with the receptor. The contact happens at 9.30 a.m. sharp. I am home and dry.
2008 had begun with a dictum – strict adherence to official work timings (i.e. 9.30 a.m. – 6.30 p.m.) of Blue Lotus. Now dictum may be too harsh a word but we had it coming didn’t we? No organisation can survive without proper discipline. Maybe not an army-like rigidity (else I would have joined the army, wouldn’t I?), but some basic ground rules to keep the house in order.
So how does it help to be on time? There’s lot of gyaan doing the rounds regarding the merits of time management. For me being on time means a chance to start work early, and consequently, to leave office on time. I am reminded of Narayan Murthy (Infosys) who in fact condemns people who spend long hours in office.
Finally it is our value system and as M. Scott Peck puts it:
'Until you value yourself, you will not value your time. Until you value your time, you will not do anything with it.'
It’s 9.27 a.m. and I have just stepped out of the bus which brings me from Victoria Terminus to the heart of Colaba. Office is still a couple of blocks away. I realise that if I walk quickly (without stopping to buy my daily dose of nicotine) I might just get to office on time. I break into a half-run, weaving, ducking, swaying to avoid the morning crowd and various other obstacles.
9.29 a.m.: I am inside the building breathing heavily from my exertions. I keep my finger pressed on the lift button, almost willing it to come down. I curse under my breath as the liftman seems to take forever to first open, then shut the lift door. Will I still be on time? The lift, a monumentally slow contraption, rattles its way upwards. It comes to a shaky halt at the fourth floor. I push hard at the lift door and rush out, the swipe card in my hand poised to make contact with the receptor. The contact happens at 9.30 a.m. sharp. I am home and dry.
2008 had begun with a dictum – strict adherence to official work timings (i.e. 9.30 a.m. – 6.30 p.m.) of Blue Lotus. Now dictum may be too harsh a word but we had it coming didn’t we? No organisation can survive without proper discipline. Maybe not an army-like rigidity (else I would have joined the army, wouldn’t I?), but some basic ground rules to keep the house in order.
So how does it help to be on time? There’s lot of gyaan doing the rounds regarding the merits of time management. For me being on time means a chance to start work early, and consequently, to leave office on time. I am reminded of Narayan Murthy (Infosys) who in fact condemns people who spend long hours in office.
Finally it is our value system and as M. Scott Peck puts it:
'Until you value yourself, you will not value your time. Until you value your time, you will not do anything with it.'
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