Glimpses of Alloy Steels Plant : Part 1

I might not have wasted my time writing this document, had it not been the eccentric circumstances through which we had to go through. This story is dedicated to all my friends who are currently working (of course with dissatisfaction) in some private company and want to switch to a PSU. People of the cyberspace, I give you this small story of The Alloy Steels Plant.

The story might have begun way long before we proudly joined this organization. With hard-work and dedication we prepared for the entrance exam (just kidding) and finally set our foot in the communism-infected lands of the West Bengal (I have always wondered why the name includes west even if it is in the extreme east of the country. Don’t give me the partition crap as Bangladesh is no longer called East Bengal). Every soul in Bokaro had warned us against the social, mental and psychological parochialness of the mighty people of Bengal (so called Bengalis) but we were in such a great spirit that we never considered them even worth listening to (Actually we never cared). So finally we were here, in a place called Durgapur (although it sounds like Singapore but trust me, they are as different as an alien is from a mouse), wandering in the busiest part of the city (called city center and as busy as the galla in front of our college) and wondering what we were supposed to do. Unfortunately we are still looking for an answer to that.

Our arrival at Durgapur was also not much comfortable, as even after prolonged discussions with the HRD, we were not able to convince them to send a bus to receive us. This was our first attempt to convince a Bengal-infected mind and we failed (No regrets as it even Neo was not able to jump across the buildings in the first attempt). I wonder how good a manager we would become as this is the prime job of a manager – to convince people to do something that they actually do not want to do. But then this was Bengal and this incident should have given us the first hint of what was about to come. But following the idiom that “ignorance is the bliss” we just kept ignoring the signs. Just a little research would have shown us that ignorance is a bliss but not for the one who ignores. It becomes bliss for everyone else out there.

On our arrival, we were ushered to our hostels, which of course were much inferior to the ones in Bokaro. Sometimes I wonder if that building could be called a hostel at all. There is no caretaker, no watchman, in fact no authorized person to look after it. And as one will expect, the condition of furniture and the fan was just pathetic. If next time someone argues with me that time travel is not possible, I will ask him to join ASP. Each of the equipments is of the make of early 60s. But again, as a constitution abiding Indian citizen, we adapted to the situation and never complaint. A minute trouble arose when the water purifier in the hostel stopped working. There was no drinking water and the management (HRD) was not ready to listen to us. Their argument was that as the spare parts are not available in the market, we would have to wait till they become available. It was not their problem if we died of thrust. Second hint, ignored again. Well this issue was resolved with the intervention of the executive director.

There are many ups and downs one has to face when one switches the place. Many a shocks are waiting for him: the cultural, the economic, the social, and electrical (not in my case though). Since it is a PSU, the shocks were bigger in amplitude. There is no official language used. All the communication is in Bengali native language – it’s your problem if you do not understand it. But it is a sweet language. It’s just the compulsion to learn that I do not wish to learn it. These small difficulties were ignored until the plan for our industrial tour came into picture. This tour was a compulsory part of our training and was supposed to last at least 15 days.

-- to be continued