The Older Young Person

I used to be a newspaper editor back in Goa. I was absurdly young at 27, and hadn’t a clue what I was doing when I was given the job. That changed, but some of the events on that journey were hilarious.

[Ignore the bits about J and A, because those two deserve section all to themselves.]

Nice Kid

One of the more annoying things about being a blogger is to have interesting stuff to post, and not having time to write about it. (Because the two are usually directly related.) Then to add insult to injury, taking out the time to write about afore-mentioned interesting stuff yields nothing because you’ve forgotten what it is you wanted to blog about.

Or at least that what usually happens to me. Today is no exception.

Lots of interesting stuff has happened to me over the past few months. I’ve introduced my readers to the idiot that is J, his charming partner A, and various other characters. I have resolutely refused to post about work, because let’s face it – I don’t want to ruffle any feathers. Plus I try and maintain a cordial working relationship with everyone, no matter what my personal opinion happens to be.

But today I make an exception, because the incident is harmless, and well, it just jolted me slightly. Not in a bad way – merely surprising. Maybe I am making too much of it, but then you can be the judge of that.

I was meant to interview someone this morning, with the view of hiring a reporter for my team. I desperately need help with the content, especially since I have very active involvement in the design process (mainly because I want to assure myself of it being perfect). I met the candidate, and frankly I thought she was pleasant, willing to work, had a good command over the language and was a good fit in my team. I was a little uncertain about her expectations, as she would have preferred to work in the features section and wanted minimal travelling. But on the whole, I was happy about her coming to work for my team, provided she actually wanted to, of course. (I want willing subordinates who are as invested in making the product successful as I am.)

I took her down to the HR department, and left her to their devices. She then met up with one of the new editors of the newspaper, who had just joined himself the same day.

Later on in the afternoon, I came out of my office and was accosted by a pleasant, silver-haired man. He smiled at me, and asked me whether I was Karishma by any chance. Turns out, he was the new editor. I had heard he was joining, so I was actually pleased to meet him.

We exchanged civilities and I prepared to move away. He then recalled my attention, saying that he met the candidate from the morning. He said that she was pleasant and would be good for the paper. I agreed with him, and we discussed her abilities a little further. He finally ended with, “… and she seems a nice kid.”

I just nodded and moved away. In the hierarchy of the organization, this silver-haired gentleman and I are possibly at the same level. Along with the magazine editor, and another new editor (that is a whole other post!), there are four people on that level. We all report to the main editor, although he interferes very little with the day-to-day running of the papers.

The other three individuals are ALL older than me. And the funny part? The candidate I interviewed in the morning was exactly a month younger than me. So if she’s a ‘nice kid’, what on earth does that make me?


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