When I Think About Ting

At 22, I had an inkling that I could find my footing in writing.

I was also the kind of junior who thought a client losing their mind meant it was the end of the world. I remember working on my first retainer brand and genuinely thinking I was going to get fired over something that wasn’t even really my fault. What I remember more clearly, though, is two of my seniors checking up on me and making sure I was okay the whole week.

Five years later, would I still panic in a similar situation? Probably a little. But now I know what to do next.

Somewhere along the way, my seniors taught, pushed and occasionally scolded me into trusting my instincts and, quite literally, told me to stop second-guessing myself.

I went from being a junior copywriter to a copywriter to a senior copywriter, won my first two pitches back-to-back with my team, and learnt to stand by my ideas.

And somewhere along those five years, I found that footing.

There are campaigns and brands I’ll remember, of course. But I think I’ll remember everything surrounding the work just as much.

My first shoot for Naturali. Some of my favourite shoot days with American Tourister and Bosch. The JCB Salon touch-up shoots where getting my hair washed and nails done technically counted as work. And the good food at Bosch shoots, which deserves an honourable mention of its own.

Then there were shoot-day hiccups, breakout rooms meant for cracking work that occasionally turned into rant sessions, feedback, more feedback, and brands that required an alarming amount of collective patience.

Somewhere in all of that, I learnt to think on my feet, collaborate, take feedback, speak up and trust an idea.

Turns out, becoming a better creative happens in all the moments around the actual creating too.

(my first desk)

There was something about the old Ting office.

I think about our Iftars. Chai walks around Ballard Estate. The chai chanda we created because apparently our collective chai consumption required its own funding system.

I think about my first hangout with the copy team and discovering just how hard these people could party. The Ting parties that produced stories I genuinely think I’m going to narrate to my children someday.

Then there was our collective love for games. NYT Connections, Wordle, crosswords and an honorary mention to SCATTERGORIES, because I had never seen people get that competitive over a game.

Eventually, we moved offices and found new routines. Ting Shorts became one of the best ways for us to bond, along with chilling in Unting. Then there was Universal after work to let loose, Swagat for ghee podi idli, Porwal for our daily snacks, Harish for a quick catch-up, and Bombay Coffee House for a walk and coffee after a heavy lunch.

I found things to love about the new place too. But a part of me always missed the old Ting, maybe because that was where so many of the bonds were first formed.

Before Ting, I don’t think I knew coworkers could be this affectionate.

You could walk into the yellow building and be greeted by some of the tightest hugs imaginable. Somewhere between briefs, lunches, shoots, parties and post-work plans, the word coworker stopped describing a lot of these people.

They became friends.

Friends I travelled from Goregaon to Churchgate and CST with every day while wondering how quickly we could log out. Friends I walked to Churchgate with when we couldn’t get a cab. Friends I played games with, went for chai with, partied with, ranted with, and learnt an unbelievable amount of random information from. And then there were the offsites, because apparently spending five days a week together wasn’t enough for us.

And food is serious business here.

This is a copy team that will quite literally threaten you if you haven’t eaten lunch. We make sure someone has at least one bite. We bring neer dosa or kori rotti because we know someone loves it.

I came here as the junior being looked after.

Somehow, I’m leaving as the senior who gentle-parents her juniors.
 

Five years at your first job is a strange amount of time because I didn’t just learn how to become a copywriter here. A pretty significant chunk of my twenties happened here.

My seniors shaped me in their own ways. Some taught me to be better at my job, some taught me to speak up, some taught me to trust myself, and some simply showed me what it means to have someone’s back at work.

At some point, I found myself passing some of those things down to the people who came after me.

Maybe you don’t notice yourself growing up when you’re too busy trying to finish the brief.
 

I started writing this thinking I’d tell you what comes to mind when I think about Ting.

The problem is, I keep remembering something else.

Another person. Another shoot. Another ridiculous client moment. Another chai break. Another party story. Another lunch. Another walk. Another inside joke that would require an entire paragraph of context to explain.Salonee Salian

And I think that’s what makes leaving after five years so difficult.

Not every memory is profound. Not every friendship has one defining story. Some people remind me of train rides home. Some of coffee. Some of a shoot. Some of a difficult account we somehow survived together. Some of games, food, hugs, rants or conversations in the middle of an ordinary workday.

But together, they are the five years.

I came to Ting at 22 with an inkling that I might find my footing as a writer.

I’m leaving five years later knowing that I did.

And with far more than I thought I would find along the way.