So, my training is more or less over and here is my modest attempt to summarize what life is for a management sales trainee. The good things first:

1. Your business sustains livelihoods: From your salesmen to your distributors, from retailers to factory workers, from shareholders to your coworkers, you know that there are people who are dependent on this business. They are, in a small way dependent on you. Even as a trainee, the choices you make are important as they impact some of them directly (and in a big way). A smile from a retailer, a ‘thank you, Sir’ from a salesman, and you know that your job goes beyond the materialistic things of life.

2. Sales thrills: Sales gives you its own joyrides. You feel that you own that X% of this world. This ownership comes in many terms.. It could be the shelf-space, stocks, loyal consumers, sales-force spread across the territory. Then comes the thrill of numbers, if you are in to it, then the numbers belong to you. And when they belong to you, you chase them, you protect them, you plan for them and you try to achieve them and upon accomplishment you celebrate them..it’s fun.

3. Sales figures are not your headache, yet! Despite all the training and stints, the truth is that you are still in that so called ‘learning phase’. So people don’t really expect much fireworks from you. And even in the rarest of the cases that people do pull you over numbers, you just need a bit of thick skin to hear everything and conclude yourself by saying that you’ll try harder next time.

4. You hardly complain about quality if things are free. Your stay, food and numerous other expenses will be paid by the company.

5. Enjoy the ego trip: It’s a world of numerous hierarchy levels, and usually these levels are pretty hard to climb. In you mid 20s, you get a position which many others in the organization can only dream of occupying even in their late 30s. And it’s not the new age IT stuff, it’s a place where people really respect the chair that you hold.

6. Travel to new places: Explore and enjoy. You visit at least 15-20 new places in your training year. At least some of them are bound to be good tourist locations. You stay there at company’s expense and you wake up facing either the sea or a mountain range. How could you still complain about life?

In brief, take everything in your stride and move on. Dil rakhne ke liye to log ye bhi bolte hain ki Sales is what makes men out of boys : )

BTW, I can’t resist the urge to write the other side of this. So very soon, I’ll come up with a piece on perils of being a sales trainee : )

The post Promises & Perils of being a trainee in SALES part-1 appeared first on Bhanu Sisodia.

It will be a revenge for the brutality and atrocities against his community. Whatever happened in Hashimpura, Meerut or Gujarat were just the more explicit and more known incidents of what has happened in this so called secular country in the last 6 decades post independence. The fact is that this country has never accepted and perhaps will never accept them as their own. He himself lives under a constant scrutiny all the time, people look at him with suspicion, as if he is carrying a gun or a grenade in his pockets.

So let it be! Yeah he has done it, in fact ‘we have done it’, and he knew that from today onwards life will never be the same for this Rajputana city of Jaipur. What he has done is just a small act of service to the community. Tomorrow even if he is traced and captured and then hanged, it’ll all in the name of the God. But….being traced out..exposed.. unimaginable torture thereafter before finally being hanged.. he shuddered at the thought. Who will take care of ‘Ammi-jaan’? What will happen to Aslam’s studies? After all this is his final year of graduation and he is doing so well in studies. And what about Aasmaa? What will she do without him, will she ever forget him? Forgive him?

All these thoughts left his throat dry; he looked at the clock, 7:05 pm. He didn’t know about the exact timings. All he did to help the mission was to procure 2 new and 1 old cycles from the city and arranged for 3 old bags for Haafiz-bhai. He was quite sure that today was the day, he got that hint by whatever conversation he could overhear, he wished to play a more active role in this but was kept out of the riskier tasks.

To think about something else than the possibility of his arrest, he focused back on his anger. Whenever he looks at prosperous Hindus, he feels that they are so because they have taken an undue advantage of his community. Even his boss Mittal-bhai whom they fondly call as Mittal bh****, behaves like he has done a great favor by giving them this job. Almost half of the workers in his shoe factory are from his community. He once overheard him saying jokingly “I have no option but to employ them, and any way these sons of pi** look good doing this kind of work”.

Today is the day when several such Mittals will learn a lesson; he was much less frightened now.

He noticed increasing activities in the locality, people started screaming, and telephones started ringing. He has switched off his own mobile phone as per the instructions of Haaafiz-bhai.

He switched on the TV. He was thrilled to see the destruction; the ticker was flashing “More than 50 feared dead”. Not bad, this is better than what he expected. He felt proud of what has been accomplished by them. Suddenly he heard a knock on the door.

His heart stopped for a bit too long, he regained his mental poise only after hearing Saadiq’s voice “Shaqeel bhai!”. He opened the door. “Shaqeel bhai SMS Hospital chalo jaldi… blast hue hain.. kam se kam paanch.. Ya Allah sab Illake waalon ki khair kare…. Aao jaldi se Aslam bhi wahin hai..phone kiya thha usne..appka switched-off hai ..isiliye mein…”

He could not hear any further.. the mere mention of Aslam left him almost paralyzed, He took a while to understand that Aslam is there only to help the victims.

He was talking to himself “What has this boy done? He is there in such a situation, this is not the time of helping anyone but to be safe yourself. These people and police together will search for any Muslims like vultures in the days to come, they will not leave him. This will take a communal turn anytime, I’ll have to go and bring him back before it’s too late” and he rushed out.

The scene outside SMS hospital was not for weak hearted persons. Just near the entrance he saw dead bodies of 2 young boys. Both of them wore identical clothes..very much like He and Aslam used to get from Abba-jaan in their childhood. He was pushed in to the gallery by a rush of new bodies brought to the hospital. Sounds of wailing were deafening. The helplessness of hundreds of mothers, fathers, wives, sisters, and children had a piercing power. Suddenly he found himself very weak. “Beta, tumhara bloodgroup-O+ hai kya? Mere bête ki jaan bacha lo” said a crying, helpless father. He looked into his eyes, the eyes that have perhaps seen the world for more than 50 years were filled with pain and utter despair today.. he has seen this face before.. yes it resembles the face of his late father he saw when Aslam was down with Malaria for more than 30 days. It just did not matter who he was.. his mental state was close to that of his own father when he saw his son almost dying due to lack of proper treatment. He just went with him.. Doctors took a sample of blood. He saw at the other corner of the room. He saw Aslam donating his blood. He could also see Rehmaan bhai, trying his level best to help the victims and their relatives.

Doctors returned shortly after and took him to the blood-donation room. He laid there thoughtless.. sounds of wailing were even more piercing now. Clearly more and more bodies were being declared as dead bodies, more and more children were losing their fathers and mothers.. wives were losing their husbands ..more and more homes were getting converted to permanent haunting houses.

After the process he felt dizziness.. but he walked out.. he wanted to walk out of this mess.. otherwise perhaps he would collapse there. Suddenly he hit a man.. he was.. he was ‘Mittal-bhai’. He was in a devastated state, he clutched his hands as if he wanted to say something.. no voice came out, but lips said everything “my son”.. Shaqeel did not know what to say or do, he moved a few steps further, then looked back. He was not the Mittal-bhai known to him, he was just a helpless father. He went to him.. Without much thoughts his arms were around his shoulders.. Mittal bhai looked up and clutched him again like a child.. he was trying to stop himself till then..perhaps he could weep now.. when his wife won’t see him weeping..Perhaps he didn’t care anymore know. It was a cry that Mittal-bhai was trying to control as hard as he could.. just those gasps for air would let it out. Shaqeel was shaken to the hilt. Mittal bhai recovered in a few minutes, sat in one of the corner.. with hands joined he started to pray for his son’s life.. Tears were still rolling from his eyes incessantly.

Shaqeel also found his hands together, subconsciously, this moment he knew that Mittal-bhai and he were referring to the same person.

The person that all of us remember when we are completely helpless is the same. It didn’t matter anymore if there was an Idol in front of you or not.. whether you call it Allah or Bhagwaan.. whether you are a laborer or a factory owner..with those trembling hands, sinking heartbeat, and teary red eyes.. you pray to the one .. you become a mere beggar.. and you beg for the lives of your loved ones.

He got up.. moved towards the blood donation room once again.. he wanted to drain all his blood there itself.. he never wanted to come out of that hospital.. he wanted to die amongst those cries..those eyes..where homes were being destroyed one by one.. he did not want to be alive till the final count.. he just wanted to add one to it..If only the doctors could drain out all his blood.

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And then Raju, his beloved younger brother who still goes to the municipal school, who still plays with his friends in the evening… For Nikku, he was living a whole new life in Raju. Late night he used to ask Raju about his day in detail, what was taught? how was the teacher? about his friends.. what did he play? How many runs he made? Whats happening in the neighborhood? and all sorts of things that he missed. Perhaps he was missing too many things, He was missing his Childhood!

India-pakistan series was going on these days, he remember that ‘Gupta Sahab’ allowed the workers(most of them were minors) to see the match for about an hour and after India’s win he even distributed sweets. Nikku brought that laddu back to his place, only to share it with Raju. He could not make much sense out of what happened except that India won and the enemy Pakistan lost, he also jumped and clapped like others did..but all that was empty and hollow.. much like his own existence.

What probably impressed him most was the Pepsi advertisement. The theme of “Yeh Pyaas hai badi” was still afresh in his mind. He was used to work in that 10 by 10 feet room with atleast 15 others in the extreme hot conditions of north Indian summer, and the water tap outside the room was the only source of respite. But now he had seen that image of so many happy persons having that chilled bottle in their hands… probably that’s the reason of their happiness, at least he will be extremely happy to have something like that. He still remembers how cold an ice-cream was when he and Raju shared one last year. Probably this Pepsi is even colder and even sweeter than that. Suddenly all the Pepsi billboards started to make a lot of sense, crates stacked outside local shops were teasing him and looked like they were waiting for the fortunate ones to come and taste them.

He mustered all his courage, waited outside one such shop till the owner got a bit free and then asked “ Paepsi kitneki hai?” (how much will a pepsi cost?)

He looked at him, his eyes were like questioning his shabby clothes, disorganized appearance and to some extent his whole identity as a human being and then with complete rudeness he answered “aath rupe” (8 Rupees) and immediately looked otherway with utter contempt.

8 Rupees, that was the difference between him and a moment that he will really cherish for a long long time.. purchasing something and then enjoying it..like all others, and that too with his own money.

His daily earnings were known to his mother and then they have to arrange for the meals, Raju’s fees, his books, the rent of the kholi ..nothing left on that side.

He then thought of an idea, he will work an hour extra and then while returning he will run hard towards the Kholi so that mother doesn’t suspect much.

Now he was doing this for last one week or so and finally today was the day when he will go to the same shop and the same shopkeeper will have to walk to the fridge and get him ‘his bottle’, after all today he had the money..and was paying the same 8 Rupees as any one of those more or even extremely fortunate ones pay.

It was late in the night, today he was not working overtime so he was walking at his own pace, completely immersed in the thoughts of his bottle of pepsi, How all the heat accumulated in these last few months will get released with those few sips, how and where he will hide the bottle, and then will take Raju out with some excuse to his favorite place..the basement of an under construction ‘Paradise apartment’ (the dimly lit place where no one see him..where he is away from his day to day troubles and can be the old Nikku as he was a few months back), and then how will he surprise Raju with that bottle of Pepsi, They will take their own time in finishing it, He could already see the smile on Raju’s face. He could not wait any longer now!

Everything went as he thought earlier, untill the shopkeeper asked him “Abhi khol doon?”(Shall I open it now?”

Nahi, mujhe de do, ghar par kholoonga (Give tht to me, I’ll open tht at home)

Abe nahi, phir tu 5 Rs bottle ke aur jama kar, kal bottle deke 5 Rs waapas le lena(then gimme 5 Rs extra for the bottle, when you return it, take them bck from me)

He requested a lot and even swore that he will return the bottle ..but all in vain!

He felt extremely stupid, useless and betrayed ..came out of the shop..it seemed that all those hundreds of bottles along with that shopkeeper are laughing at him, a thin layer of tears helped him by obscuring the huge and well-lit billboard of Pepsi, he started to run again, harder than he had ever run.. probably away from this ruthless world ..so that he can weep loudly at the basement of his favorite ‘Paradise apartment’ before returning back to his kholi.

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