My Brush with Oracle

Looking for a job when the economy is going through a downturn is one of the most nightmarish experiences ever. With the high degree of uncertainty on the job front and the pressure to remain employed driving us, we are left with precious little choice but to join the formidable job hunt and plunge into the unruly, unemployed, frustrated bunch of job seekers. And that is precisely what I did.

Last Wednesday, the Times of India carried a very attractive half-page advertisement by Oracle in the Appointments section. The ad stated that Oracle was going to conduct a career fair for software professionals, who could walk in for an interview with their career profile and walk out with the results in just a couple of hours. The advertisement urged the reader to act at once. I was tempted. The career fair was scheduled to be held on a Saturday, and I had no problems whatsoever. I could easily get a couple of hours off, to go over to Oracle, attend the interview and then get back to work.

Came Saturday, and I was utterly excited. I quickly showered, ate, and picking up the file containing my certificates, walked out of my house haughtily. When I reached the Oracle office, I was shocked to see the whole street swarming with young, smart-looking ladies and gentlemen, gripping a file or folder, looking rather nervous. I was amazed at the number of jobless software professionals in Bangalore.

For over half an hour, the massive gates of Oracle remained closed. People were waiting outside patiently. I was surprised that no one was restless. Most of them seemed to have accepted waiting as part of the job hunt. All of a sudden, there was a lot of commotion. The gate had been opened at last! A virtual stampede followed, with people running over one another in an attempt to get past the security guard into the building. I tried to push my way through the crowd but was brutally shoved aside and pushed all the way back to where I had been standing since morning. I cursed under my breath and gave it one more shot. This time, I was literally thrown backwards by a group of burly men dressed in white shirts. All of them were holding up a sheet of paper in their hands, waving frantically. I wondered what was happening. Someone in the crowd enlightened me that they would let us in if we could somehow get them to see our resume.

A few minutes later, the struggle seemed to subside. All of us got a chance to go in. Someone in the crowd screamed, "queue please!" Gradually, things got a little organized and people queued up in front of the gate. Some lady in the rear called out, "what about us ladies?" A while later, the queue was split into two - one for men and the other, privileged queue for the 'weaker sex', which was not only shorter but also given preference in being given tokens. The gentlemen sure had a lot to grumble about.

Finally, after a long two-hour wait, I got my turn, and for what? To get a token which said '4 PM'. I groaned. I had two choices - either to wait right there till 4 o'clock or to get back to work, finish lunch and come back in the afternoon. I decided to choose the smart way out. I quietly went back to work.

Post lunch, I was expecting the crowd to have diminished, but I was in for another rude shock. When I reached the Oracle premises, there was a bigger crowd than what I had seen in the morning. But then, I had the token. My passport into Oracle. I smiled smugly as I flashed the token before the security guard at the gate, and he promptly let me in. I went in, to find another disorganized queue. I went and joined the queue.

As I was waiting, I struck up a conversation with a few others in the line, and found that most of them either belonged to the 'US-returned' or to the 'just-thrown-out-of-job' category. Some were, of course, like me, trying to get into Oracle for 'improved career prospects'. After another long wait, the '4 PM batch' was called, and we were led into the basement of the building. We were expecting a written test, but what awaited us was far from it. On a large screen on the wall, we saw a presentation about Oracle playing, interlaced generously with commercials about Oracle products. It was almost like the brand name 'Oracle' was being forced down our throats like a dose of bitter medicine.

"I didn't expect this…" I muttered. "Hey you should have expected it! After all, it is a career fair. In other words, it is a mela which has become a jhamela," commented one of the other aspirants for the post of technical writer. An hour later, we were beckoned by another security guard and the whole crowd rushed towards him. He declared that only ladies could go in. Again, the men clenched their fists at this discrimination. I felt good about being a woman. I thanked God silently for making me one.

I thought our long wait was over. But alas! We were all led into a large dining hall on the fifth floor (and we were made to climb five floors, as the lift could not accommodate a hundred of us at a time). There was a projector at one end of the hall and lots of seats in many rows at the other. We settled down and a while later, a middle-aged man walked in. He apologized for the long wait that we had been subjected to, and went on to give a detailed presentation about Oracle and its capabilities. The presentation lasted a whole hour, at the end of which we were directed to different rooms based on our core competencies, for a personal interaction. At last, we were there!

Forty-five minutes later, I was seated in front of the interviewer, who quickly scanned my resume and told me, "Thanks, Mina. We'll get back to you if your profile matches our requirement." He stacked away my resume in his file, indicating that the 'interaction' was concluded. I slowly got up and walked out. So much for a career fair!