Vinish Garg

Technical Writer. Published Author. http://www.vhite.com

Posts Tagged ‘memoirs of father

The CEO Key

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It was in June 2011 that I published a series of memoirs. There were ten posts and six were available for public. That time, I had planned to sell it, by making the last four posts as paid. The details are at: https://vinishgrg.wordpress.com/memoirs/.

Now I plan to make more posts from that series as public. Here is one of them.

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The CEO Key

As a key, I lock and unlock. When I was ready, my fate was sealed with the car, forever. And I used to travel a lot. Like a CEO of a world leading soft drink company, From one hook to another, to one pocket and to another, to a bag, to hand fist, to fingers, to car seat, to table top, to the car dashboard, to a handbag, to a chair, on to the boundary wall of house, and then back to hook.

My LinkedIn profile would show me the most travelled CEO in the world. I was on job.

The hand that held me, held me as if I could seal His fate. His fate. The grip was as if I could unlock a safe and not only a car. His hand was like my second home. The ignition point was of course first. Within few weeks of my first job, I felt the grip loosening occasionally. The hand would forget me sometimes, on table or on the boundary wall of house.

I panicked. The man too. He would either clutch me very tight, or leave me alone.

I felt safe and vulnerable at the same time.

One day, I felt His hand blood vessels raised. As if there are last-minute ISO audits due that day. Audits happened. The process was being followed and documented well. But some eyebrows were raised. As if some transparency was missing. As if some uncontrolled growth of cells. I felt a direct correspondence with His life span and my life span.

I felt more vulnerable and my worst fears came true. When in His hand, I saw hand bags, towels, woollens, bottles, medicines, toffees, lunch box, and so many things in his hands. That fine evening, I fell from His hand at a juice corner. As He was sipping in sugarcane juice, I saw Him while I was lying on ground hoping to see me. He did not. As He sat in car and as His driver drove with my TWIN sister, another key, I felt as if my soul departed.

My body stayed there on road, and was dragged in a pile of garbage next morning. I was breathing last. Over next three months, I struggled from one garbage pile to another, hoping to meet Him one day. Being a fine gentleman, He applied for a duplicate key. And my hope fainted.

My body started aching more and one day, my soul departed. I landed in a new body and was termed as a *Duplicate key*. I did not like it.

Will my owner be called *Duplicate man* when His soul would take place in another body?

As history would take it, the man also quit same day. 23 February 2011.

After months of lull, I got to know that I will be handed over to His son. I was sceptical. Like any CEO would feel in a new company. New body and now new owner. Will I be as vulnerable again? Will the son also leave me at a juice corner?

And will I be travelling same again? Like CEO?

I expected to travel, in pocket, hand, fingers, hook, table, or in drawer. One evening, the son (my new owner) placed me in the drawer on a book titled *Leaders without Title*. The protagonist in the book had inscribed LWT (Leaders without Titles) and used it as a locket in his neck. This Robin Sharma masterpiece might have changed the life of many entrepreneurs? And as I dived in, I loved it.

Now I travelled not like a CEO but as a mere key as I got a job to do. The new owner helped me in that as He rarely clutched me tight. While having juice, He ensured that I was in his pocket. I liked the peace and assurance with which He carried me. I would lie for hours on same table. I was doing a better job, as a leader without title, though as CEO. The travel reduced as was reflected on my LinkedIn profile as well. My workload decreased. And I was at greater peace.

But there was an undefined, unleashed, and uncomfortable anxiety. As I started losing the thrill of, or anxiety of reaching a juice corner, I felt the old owner’s intrusion one day. The Son forgot me there for a moment, only to take me back within moments. “CEOs’ cannot afford to take things for granted”.

The CEO in me told me, “But what is this life if it not at all vulnerable?”

After all, the old owner is the father of new owner.

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Written by Vinish Garg

July 1, 2012 at 11:41 am

Posted in memoirs, We, the people

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