A client’s client

Recently we added one of the oldest and well respected co-operative banks as our client. We were given numerous requirements out of which we have fulfilled one. The others will be completed soon, I hope.

The Bank has a branch near my home. I remember opening my first savings account with them when I was 8. My parents were keen to imbibe the habit of saving in me from an early age. I used to stand in the queue for depositing a few rupees every month. Later, I also started withdrawing small amounts using withdrawal slips.

Going to the Bank was an outing with typical sights and sounds. The security guard with the rifle, the long counters, the people behind them, invisible ladies chattering and tittering at jokes, the sound of papers being stamped with vengeance, people waiting patiently in queues, sometimes shouting at those who try to jump the queue, the smell of gum and cash and the serious aura of the place (because money’s involved). It was all very exciting given my age.

I still hold my bank account with them although I have accounts with other banks too. I rarely visit the branch but there are occasions when I pass by. It brings back old memories.

Now, the good old Bank is our client. More clearly it is it’s client’s client, proving that the world is round indeed!

Yours truly, Jayendra

The Site of Happyness

Our website was so old that it was in danger of being designated as a world heritage site by UNESCO.

In all, it badly needed some fresh paint and new content with teeth to give it bite, according to the Sales guys.

An internal call connected me to the man for the job. The lone web designer, Long Distance Yogesh.

Long Distance Yogesh travels for hours to get to the office. The transport for his daily round trip would sequence like foot, bus, train, bus, bus, train, bus, foot, crawl at the end of the day?

This must be his dream job.

I asked Long Distance Yogesh to hop over to my cabin for a head to head talk. His 700 mm smile, proudly displaying strong, chunky teeth arrived a few minutes before he stepped in.

I gave him a brief outline of what I wanted. “Yes Sir!” he said, nodding his head without forgetting his smile.

I went on to explain what I wanted on the home page.

“Yes Sir!”. Nod. Smile.

Then, I filled him in on the internal pages.

“Yes Sir!”. Nod. Smile.

Then I spoke some about contact details.

“Yes Sir!”. Nod. Smile.

The colour scheme.

“Yes Sir!”. Nod. Smile.

The hot weather.

“Yes Sir!”. Nod. Smile.

The Airbus A320 and its’ parking issues.

“Yes Sir!”. Nod. Smile.

The inability of the government to arrest inflation.

“Yes Sir!”. Nod. Smile.

The turbulence in Iraq.

“Yes Sir!”. Nod. Smile.

The inefficiencies of the modern sewage system.

“Yes Sir!”. Nod. Smile.

The trend of single parenting and its effect on the growth of facial hair.

“Yes Sir!”. Nod. Smile.

The hot weather. Again.

“Yes Sir!”. Nod. Smile.

I asked him about the timelines. Before he could do his routine, I managed to jump in, “And stop saying Yes Sir!”

“Yes Sir!”. Nod. Smile.

Sighing, I just smiled and asked him to do a good job.

Guess, some people will never stop being happy.

Words of Wisdom

Sir Rodney poked his head into my cabin.

“We’ve been called for the meeting at 4.”, he informed, barely composing himself.

I contemplated doing a little jig for a moment but dismissed the idea as quickly. This was unprecedented. We had been short listed by a client for an important project. Most likely a clerical error, but we were in. As of now.

At 3:30, we boarded Sir Rodney’s two wheeled private jet and zoomed towards our destination at supersonic speed. All of 40 kmph. We reached the exalted edifice in time and took a few moments to help bring the adrenalin down to normal levels.

We waited at the reception and were called in while I was dream-talking with sheep number 896.

The 3 of them, 2 ladies and a gentleman, knew Sir Rodney. Which meant that I was the black sheep. Or the ignorant elephant in the room. I chose to leave it at that and shrunk down inconspicuously in my chair.

The meeting started with Sir Rodney making a valiant attempt to explain our proposal and why it was the best in the world.

There were points versus counter points. Arguments versus counter arguments. One versus three. It felt like Wimbledon. With me as the ball boy behind the champion, holding the towel.

After about 48 minutes, the odds overwhelmed Sir Rodney. Wounded and tired, he looked towards me for rescue. The three warriors followed his glance impatiently. There was utter silence.

You could hear your heart beat. If you could blank out the whirring of the AC. And the water flushing in the washroom commode next door. And the dog barking in the parking lot. And the cacophony of the drilling machines on the floors above. Never mind.

Yet, this was my moment. It was now or never. I had to make that one brilliant statement which would decisively tip the balance in our favour. I coaxed my reluctant brain to churn up the tie breaker. And it came to me like a flash of light.

“Anybody for tea?”

I observed Sir Rodney deflate with a small whimper. The three warriors stared at me incredulously. I stared back evenly with shining eyes, full of righteousness and pride. I could hear their brains working furiously. But who has the will to argue against such a logical offer?

They gave up.

The tension eased out over tea. As a result, we did leave a positive impression before leaving on Sir Rodney’s jet. To live and meet another day!

The ABC of the RFP

It fell on Sir Rodney first.

The coveted yet dreaded RFP a.k.a. Request for Proposal – a bunch of forms from a client with blanks to be filled in, questions to be answered and submitted within a deadline to qualify for a meeting in a series of meetings to bag a likely assignment. Whew!

A project that we had smugly thought was in our pocket, had sneaked out in the open for all and sundry to quote. Not a first time for us, but generally we haven’t had much success, alright any success, with Ms. RFP.

Sir Rodney worked on it for 3 days before deciding that it hadn’t suitably budged towards completion. With 2 days to go, panic set in on dot, as forewarned on page 46 in the blockbuster, “RFP for Dummies”.

It eventually landed in my mailbox. I gathered myself and sifted through the formats. Apparently, all were filled properly. Yet there was an air of impending doom.

An innocuous looking Excel file appeared somewhat disturbing. With clammy hands, I clicked it open. In it was a table of questions that scrolled and scrolled and scrolled – till row 538. The response column was completely blank.

I let out a short scream, stood up, hopped around, sat down, rubbed my eyes, looked again, stood up, hopped around again and sat down. That changed nothing in the sheet.

It took me 15 full minutes to gather my wits and control my gurgling stomach. I wished it would go away, but it kept on staring at me, defiantly. So, I scrolled up, up and up to the first row.

In a few minutes, I knew that I needed divine help. This was a minefield of abbreviations: AD, DC, LDAP, SAS, SAAS, IAAS, PAAS, RD, DMZ,IP,T1, VPN, IPSec, B2B,JVM,BES,TLS,SASE, ISO, SSO, OS, PDA, OLA,SLA,VCS, SDLC, RMP, AV, PCI, P2P, B2C, SAML, WS, SSL, BCP, DCP, RTO, DR,UPS, HVAC … GO for Game Over?.

I needed to lie down, but instead called Sir Rodney. I squeaked that we may not be able to answer all the questions. Or rather any of them. Hence, we may use the one abbreviation that we relate to whole heartedly – “NA” for Not Applicable. I thought I heard him break down at the other end, sobbing in relief or grief or both?

So, I generously used the only weapon in our arsenal and was done with. In 5 minutes flat.

The results aren’t in yet. But, I think our record w.r.t. RFPs will stand unblemished and proud. For an “NA” in client speak may well mean Not Acceptable, garnished with pearls that may be a bit difficult to abbreviate!