Letting Go of Control

At the nascent stages of my Banking career, I was interning in London. One of my bosses there was seemingly perennially sour-faced.

His educational credentials were impeccable. Armed with an Engineering degree from a creme-de-la-creme institute, he had also gone to an Ivy league B-School. So part of the snob-value was warranted. That, plus 15 years of a scintillating Banking career probably meant he had earned that attitude.

As an inquisitive young intern, I was often asking questions to everyone. But this particular gentleman didn't take too well to my curiosity. "Young man, my 10-year old kid doesn't ask as many questions as you do", said in a deep condescending baritone, was enough to quell my query mid-sentence.

One day, he was working on a PowerPoint presentation for a strategy meeting. He beckoned me for some 'technical assistance'.

As every banker worth their salt would admit, our world revolves around making presentations. Yesteryear bankers used transparency slides, nowadays new applications are on the verge of revolutionising the space, but in those days, the humble PowerPoint was in vogue.

Our man here was struggling with formatting, and moving a few boxes he'd created. I took his data, snazzed up the tables, and voila, his ppt slide looked, well, presentable.

But, he was hard to please. He wanted the entire contents shifted downwards by a few milimeters. Perfectionist, bah. He was sitting at his desk critiquing my work while I stood next to him. I requested him to press the 'Ctrl' key on his keyboard while I used the mouse to select all the slide contents and move them as per his preference.

Once he was satisfied, he asked me to desist from disturbing his work of art. I thanked him for a chance to tinker with his slide and left his slide. While I was walking away, he called me back. "Hey, is it safe to let go of control now?"

My puzzled expression was met with an exasperated one from him. Wiggling the finger which held down the Ctrl key, he rolled his eyes at me. I couldn't control my laughter, and that enraged him more. He was still holding on to the key, long after we were finished shifting the tables on his PowerPoint slide.

"You think you are very tech-savvy, eh? Wise guy, when I began my career, we used a boot diskette to start our computers. I don't have time to learn all this fancy stuff. Tell me quickly if I can give up control", he thundered.

That day onwards, his mien of being an all-knowing intellectual was fractured, not only for me but with all snickering colleagues who'd heard the "giving up control" story from me.