Work in the Time of Terror

“The Wednesday” last week the people of Mumbai spent the whole night and Thursday next sitting glued to the television at their homes. This happens to Mumbai a lot. We’re bombed, held hostage, subject to abrupt curfews (bandhs), strange holidays for people we don’t know. Work is given a miss on such days fearing stray bullets, lathi or rampaging terrorists. On this most recent occasion, Friday however brought a very old confusion back. The threat was not neutralized, the terrorists weren’t still all rounded up and basically, once again, Mumbai didn’t know if it was safe to go to work.

Now, God-fearing souls that we are, the only option that remained for Mumbaikars was to work from home. Working from home is something generally the whole world avoids. For obvious reasons, a continuous buzzing disorienting noise in the background called the wife (mine doesn’t read what I write, so I’m safe), giggles and playful squeals called the kids, a ringing menace called the phone and the occasional nagging voice in the head questioning the logic behind not enjoying a day off.

And yet some of us struck by conscience or compulsion may actually have to work on a surprise day off. What happens then to the moral dilemma of working from the safest environment we know? Here’s what I do. Let me know if it makes sense.

Smart Casuals
Working from home actually requires a whole lot more self-psyching than one would imagine, especially when your city is under seige. I’m not talking to the masters that have made their fortunes working from home, but to the day-jobbers. No trains or metros, no long drives, no traffic. Not having a lot of these key prepping agents to get us going means a lot of disciplining. The first thing I do on a day that I know I have to work and not laze, I bathe and get ready for work. I don’t know if other men do it or notice it OR other women will form an opinion about a scraggly me, but on my holidays, I bathe only when absolutely required. But on a home work-day, I make sure I work my morning routines as on any work-day.

I wear clothes I could carry into a meeting. I think of it as role-play. If you dress the part, you act the part. Of course, I won’t wear a double-breasted suit and Hugo Boss cuffs but I won’t go the opposite end and walk into a home work-day dressed in only boxer chaddies and a stubble. The routine and the act of dressing up together help me make the distinction between a casual holiday and a day of work at home.

The Corner Office
I have a small desk at home that I use as my work space. It’s in the least used corner in the least used room of my home, to ensure that I have as much time by myself as possible. Now most of us Mumbaikars don’t have the luxury of having a designated work space at home, we’d be glad if we even landed up having a toilet in our homes. In fact, some offices in Mumbai are the size of toilets, so we’re good at home. But for the ever so slightly more square-foot fortunate ones like me, it helps to have a work space. I also make it clear, if not visibly apparent, to those living with me, that today is a work day, I’m at my work place and am not available for getting bread and eggs, fetching the plumber and everything else that should ideally be reserved for weekends (not that I do any of those ever, still, just to piss off the wife).

Networked and Virtual
I also make it a point to announce my work availability to key colleagues, customers and of course, my boss (for more than just brownie points). Though in Mumbai, on days that are declared holidays without RDX or AK-47s involved, when News TV becomes the center of attention, most of them are playing cricket with their apartment mates or cooling off with family, some are working just like I am. Those are the people I want to talk to. Home workdays are fantastic procrastination busters. Everything that I wanted to do with a customer, new plans, presentations, strategies, budget allocations, I get done on such a day. Taking help, of course, from my trusty colleagues who very reluctantly, muttering abuses over the phone, help out. If they or their family members are alive and well and not caught in a flood, cross fire or a heap of dead bodies. And also, making sure the boss is in the loop for critical decisions and regular updates so that the efforts are appreciated and the actions are put into effect.

Breaking Up
I used to love working from home. Not only because its going to be a while for a terrorist to target my home in particular, dramatically reducing the odd of my sudden, premature termination, but also because I could eat what I wanted, when I wanted without having to move too far or placing an order and waiting. This however worked against me. Aside of taking frequent breaks to quell the munchies and getting chubby with all the eating, I also landed up taking longer breaks, often playing music, reading the daily paper or worse, napping after snacking. So the snacks had to go. So did the cigarettes. No sense in stinking up the house or walking to an open area and spending that much more time in a break. Now I take the same breaks as I am used to at work – an hour for lunch and a 20 minute evening tea break.

Start-Stop Technique
Bob Marley once said “The people that are trying to make the world worse never take a day off, why should I”. While we would all agree with him and sort out early on how to start even when confined, I faced a new kind of problem – when should I stop working. Working from home sometimes has its benefits in terms of productivity. A faster internet connection, an easily available printer/fax, maybe even a faster computer. I realized it was getting easier, I was getting more done in lesser time and this feeling of vigor turned to lust for more work and I landed up working till midnight or longer. In turn, that completely ruining the next day which usually landed up being a proper workday.

So I set a cut-off time. I’d stop working when I usually would and spend travel time doing something relaxing (in Mumbai, we travel a whole lot more than we cover distance). So I’m off working at home by about seven, or when the next bomb blast echoes through the city and then either playing games on the PS3, sipping coffee and reading a book or watching TV. Alone time like never before. Of course, a co-operative Mumbai family will never let you have alone time, but that’s the harm in trying.

The Morning After
As a usual work day resumes, I make sure that I do three things that make the last days work worthwhile. First, I take stock of all the documents I worked on from home and make them ready to go to work. Next, I destroy all electronic and physical copies of my work. Though my company does not have a working-at-home data protection policy, I feel its my duty to be safe to them and to be prudent for myself.

And last, on a very serious note, I hope, wish and pray that such a day never again occurs in the lives of us Mumbaikars and Indians again. It had been a shocking few days, our mouths had been dry gasping for breath while the wind was yet again knocked out of our lungs by the incompetence of the politicos, the strange sensitivities of the news media and the wanton slaughter of so many tax payers. We all felt like dead men and women walking around, waiting for our numbers to come up. We feel so every day. If the debates that have sparked, the motions that have been effected and the people that have risen have made any impact on your life, do something about what you feel.

The guest author, Alap Ghosh, has 9 years of in-the-middle-of-all-the-action experience in enterprise, portal and mobile products and solutions. Having worked with the top technology and media convergent companies of the country, Alap spends most of his time connecting brands and agencies with technology to create better internet properties and new-age inventory. Connect with Alap by email or on LinkedIn or on Facebook