Water that grass!


Yesterday, I have bumped across an old colleague. We used to work in the same firm; I flew somewhere far, he stayed. We we’re crossing the same street. As the green light lit, we hit the pavement. It was astonishing how those few seconds of crossing had amount to several bad news — a lot of people resigned (since, I left), the office enjoyed a lonely kind of silence, et cetera.

We parted ways. It was a pleasant brief thing but something about it lingered. Perhaps, it was his way of pouring out all the bad (or just plain sad) news like it was the most natural thing to do. Yes, we had something in common: his present and my former workplace. I’m not sure if it brings relief to him, but it sure didn’t have the same effect on me.

Turnover rates in BPOs are common, I suppose. People in offices come and go. What could be strange with that? In truth, I was inclined to wonder not just about his perspective — but about people’s perspective in an office when a colleague leaves. It’s always like something went sour. Like a mark of a transition that always begins from sweeter to bland to bitter. People Who Stay start to call this atmosphere, this aura left by their colleagues as ‘not-like-it-was-before’… In time, the People Who Stayed began to summon this aura; and it comes close with claws and fangs and takes its form as a monster, faceless but never nameless.

And that’s where true chaos (for the People Who Stayed) begins. With a monster, they have put themselves in a victim’s position. They’ll start to think that they had no choice, that they cannot move from this firm to another. And then they’ll hate their helpless state. Why can’t this firm think of my needs? Why can’t I have a raise?

The monster manages to stifle a loud snicker.

Because the monster had been you all along. You — who thought that your colleagues had it better — you forgot that you still got a job. A job is always noble if you turn to it. When you make it your mission to give it a step higher than what is required, your job is noble. When you turn your stuff on time, your job is noble. When you try to help people solve a problem, your job is noble — and your job puts you in a position that allows you to be noble. In time, you become just as noble (as your job).

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