Scramble for a highchair - Scene 1

After a refreshing weekend, I return to office dreading the 76 hours that I need to bill this week. As usual, my vinayagar idols are displaced, the miniature plane on top of my monitor is upside down, my keyboard is at an angle and the dustbin is under the chair - proof that someone's been 'cleaning' my desk. Rearranging everything, I pull up my chair and sit down. Sensing that my chair is at a level lower than what I'd find comfortable, I reach for the lever and try to raise the chair. Nothing happens. I try again - and again. Nothing happens, whatsoever. The chair's at its lowest possible position. Exactly what went wrong with a chair that had a perfectly functional lever two days back beats me. Or maybe the chair got mixed up with another. It does happen at times. *sigh* I turn to J and complain. He laughs. Apparently, he finds this very amusing. I ask him to try the chair and he does. No difference. *sigh*. 'Okay, J, vidunga'. We get to work - at least J does. I have to crane my neck and look up at the monitor - I could have as well been sitting in the front row of a cinema theatre. At least, the latter would not have been so boring. 'Karmam!', I mutter as C walks in to our cubicle. 'C! Ennoda chair-a parunga!!', I exclaim even before he can put his laptop down on the desk. 'Enna achu?' he asks, amused, as J chuckles. Ignoring J, I explain. C tries again and we give up. '2802-ku phone panni complain pannunga. Ask for another chair', he advises and turns to his laptop. I dial the number and reach one of the office boys. 'Hello, naan xxxx-lerndhu call panren. Inga - ' 'Hello? Hello?', pipes a voice. It's extremely noisy there. Why exactly, I cannot fathom. I raise my voice a little and repeat, ' Naan xxxx-lerndhu call panrenga. Ennoda chair -' 'Hello? Madam? Konja sathama pesunga, inga ore sathama irukku, edhuvum kekkala.' 'NAAN XXXX-LA IRUNDHU CALL PANRENGA. ENNODA CHAIR.....' blah... blah... blah... 'Oh, okay, Madam, yaarayavadhu anuparom.' 'THANKS!' No sooner had I hung up, relieved at the thought of getting a proper chair - 'Ipdi dhan oorukke kekkara madhiri phone la kathuviya?', asks D, from the next cubicle, raising her eyebrows at me. Shaking her head, she puts on her headphones and turns to her monitor before I can answer. Sighing, I get to work.