The man who loved his work

Here is the eighth unforgettable character in my life …

The other day he came over to invite my family and me for his house warming ceremony. I was surprised because we never were on such intimate terms – but we went. It was an impressive building – complete with the latest gadgets that one could think of. He proudly took the visitors around showing off his acquisitions – his son is an Engineer settled abroad. He had also contributed his bit to this wonderful asset. A couple of months later, he invited us to the opening ceremony of his restaurant – ‘dine vegetarian in air conditioned comfort’ was his punch line. We dropped in and were once again impressed with his thinking process. He really had it in him to put his thoughts into action.

There was a time when his wife would sell packed groundnuts to make money on the side – he would bring home five kilograms of groundnuts, she would fry them and put them in pouches that he would sell to the shopkeepers. He was also a penciller who took bets on card games (‘satta’) – the numbers would be declared at nine every night and he would encash his earnings on a daily basis. On top of that, he was fortunate enough to have a boss who could be influenced with a bottle of liquor – he took advantage of this and got his promotions in good time.
He recently had his cataract operated, and he has a limp from an accident. He certainly was a successful man traveling in his air conditioned car, but he passed away – to a heart attack.
I knew his father. The gentleman had sired a number of children and my friend was the eldest. With so many mouths to feed, the old man had a tough time. The children grew up independently and, right from the school days, they had aggression written all over them. It was said that when the old man traveled to Calcutta, he would never purchase tickets for all members and he never got caught by the TTE in the train or even at Howrah – in the train, he would ask the members to disperse at the sight of the TTE; at Howrah, he would come out of the station by making use of the broken fences. After retirement, he set up a tiny shop where he would repair various types of domestic appliances like pressure cookers, petromaxes and primus stoves. He would even take up bicycles for repairs, if required.


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org

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Didi loves meetings and tours because both of these bring her closer to her people. But some of her own were putting obstacles in her path and she was getting irritated.
‘Moo Cool,’ she looked at her Man Friday. ‘I am fed up of these syndicate boys. Why don’t you find a solution?’ ‘At times I feel like taking the law into my own hands and hammering the daylight out of these characters,’ Moo Cool ground his teeth in anger. ‘They are spoiling our image.’
‘I know,’ Didi agreed. ‘But – I check the urge. I have warned them in my meetings but they are not bothered.’
‘We have to live with them,’ Abhi Shake said. ‘They are Frankensteins and we have created them to further our own agenda. We must learn to control them.’
'I think I'll hold some classes,' Didi murmured.
Suddenly Dee Wreck rang up.
‘The train is on time,’ he said. ‘The delegates want you to be there to meet them.’

‘Yes, I know,’ she sighed. ‘They are from the jungle and must be kept happy.’
‘I have arranged a dress for you,’ Dee Wreck said. ‘If you wear it, it will create a better impression. Everyone does it – no one minds. In fact they love such variety.’
‘OK,’ Didi said.
And so it came to pass that Didi dressed up as a tribal woman and went to Howrah Station. She loved trains. She had, once, been the railway minister and, agitations around trains was not new to her. Local trains carry people from far off places to the city proper and it can be a huge lever to make those in authority wake up and listen.
Moo Cool and Abhi Shake accompanied Didi while Dee Wreck remained with her vehicle.
Suddenly Didi stopped.
‘Why is the platform so dirty?’ she asked Moo Cool. ‘We must maintain cleanliness and follow the principle of Swatchh Bharat. Let us make the surroundings hawker free.’
Just then a bunch of kids ran past her. They were urchins.
‘These kids should be in school,’ she said. ‘I have given them books, shoes, bicycles, and dresses. I want them to study and become engineers and doctors. Then why are they running about on the platform?’
No one had any ready reply. (to be continued ...)


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org

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