Training chronicles

When I entered the training room that day, the most maddening thing that I had to remind myself is that I am there to train others and not vice versa. Teaching was not a problem, but somehow teaching to bunch of “big” freshly passed out naughty guys from college was what seemed to be my problem then.

For those who have never seen me would not grasp the intensity of my embarrassment here. To make my point clear, after finishing my school there was not significant progress in my height and weight. As a result I have never been given the importance of adult and always been treated like a injured school kid in many social gathering, which had many times tempted me to throw eggs on others. Once one of my client, on seeing me exclaimed in front of all my colleagues – “why we have a child labor here?” . On saying so, he winked at me and told “Just kidding”. But the damage was done and it was irreversible. So to my colleagues , I am nothing but a tiny little object in the form of human who can vaporize and go invisible at any time. So when I entered the training room that day, those big guys bright stare confirmed my client statement. My demeanor registered shock in their face. Gradually my embarrassment deepened.

I politely introduced myself and asked them to introduce briefly. I tried or acted to remember their names but in vain. With the vague memory of their names I booted my laptop and plugged in the LCD cable. Now all I had to do then was turn ‘ON’ the LCD, to begin the session. I realized the LCD was fixed at the top of the roof and remote was missing. My eyes stared at the LCD at the top, wondering how on earth would I reach that object to make it work. I was about to call some help from office admin boys to bring remote, then one of the lean guy in the middle row, without caring to take conscious of my presence there, stood up, placed his dirty boots on the middle of the table, jumped violently and poked LCD button with his ball-point pen. The devil device blinked promptly and projected my laptop contents to the big screen. The boy after his swift jump sat back, with the impression that he had impressed all the female co-trainees. The girls giggled.

All the while I was standing there frozen. I mean it would have been a normal attitude for that young man to hop on the table, realizing the fact that he had just passed out from college. But for quite some time I lost all my college touch and suddenly someone leaping on the office desk sent shock memories of my college days back to my mind. I regained my composure and tried to flash a encouraging smile at the boy as if it is perfectly acceptable to jump in the training rooms. But I am not good at masking my face. That supposed-to-be bright smile was poorly disguised as if I am attempting an hollow smile suppressing an terrible tooth ache.

After that things went well. I started to explain them about applications. The room was dimly lit and I was not sure whether anything that I was blabbering went inside their head. To make matters complicate, some of them were wearing specs which only reflected the projection screen. I had no idea whether there eyes were blinking at me or in some deep peaceful slumber. When I was in college I always considered professors who disturbs students peace with their weird questions as hellhounds. So now even though my conscience irked me, I took intermittent break, questioning them, to make sure their senses are still in the session and not in some sweet dreams.

After 2 hours of exploring the endless technical details I stopped and told them the class is over. Their bright talk bounced back. Perplexity played on their face. I asked them bravely , if they have any doubts then it is the time to shoot questions at me. When I was happy that many dared not to disturb me with their queries, suddenly a feeble female voice unleashed a question. Quite unexpectedly, the horrid face of my school teacher flashed before my eyes, reminding how she hit me on my head when I asked her some silly question on some subject with out knowing that she had already discussed that topic over many times in the class. Now I can look at the psychology of teacher’s mind too. I mean after having explained so much on some subject, and suddenly a question which would prove me, whatever that had came out from my vocal cord for the past 2 hours only went in the air and definitely not in the poor girls head, was more than a distress. There were wide chances for me too to behave like my school teacher, provided a ruler was at my hand. But at the same time, the fact that, I too was like that girl when I was in the school somewhat consoled me. So with the most sisterly affectionate voice I explained her again.

15 thoughts on “Training chronicles

  1. Hi Vani,

    Typical vani-post – full of self-deprecation, sarcasm and wit in a fast and humorous narration style.

    I think, most of us when we take a training for the first time, have similar concern/fear/self-doubt (s). I think it is similar to people, who wear specs for the first time tend to think the entire world is watching them and similar feelings.

    How are you?

    -Discoverer

  2. Nice post to read.. the fact tat my training starts next month(finally) makes it more interesting for me..
    and thanks for the tip.. i’ll sure remember to wear specs🙂

  3. again, same pinch madam.

    //I have never been given the importance of adult and always been treated like a injured school kid in many social gathering,//

    could relate to this line very well. im still treated lik one, in some places. cant say u any aarudhals as im in need of some. but wat to do, ellaam fate. as surya says, “watever hpns, life has to go on”. Happy Training🙂

  4. Discoverer, I am doing great. It’s been a long time🙂. Thanks for dropping by.

    Baskar, Thank you !

    Subash,he he …all the best..

    KK, My soul feels better now😉

    Amit, poor trainees🙂

    • Sathish, yeah …my work is very hectic this month. Completely curbed my blogging. It’s been a long time since I read other blogs too.. I wish my project end soon🙂

  5. Something to share… « My Quest

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