By Shashwat Sahoo
Having your morning cup of Chai in front of a government office doesn’t have to mean rush and hustle. For some, it is about taking slow sips in the morning chill, in order to lengthen the time your fingers draw warmth from the hot cup. The simplest of buildings with plain, patchy paint on. Though altruistic looking, these government buildings have some fascinating design gems for the eyes that linger long enough to notice such banalities. Unfortunately, that is a rarity these days.
The open, minimalistic interior somehow always has a breeze of air. It’s not just the wide windows that let the air in. The cross-ventilation is almost magical and does wonder for the climate indoors. The broad, high ceiling corridors, leading to small offices and smaller cabins, define the word hallway.
Rajat sipped his sweet Chai as he waited outside his daily pilgrimage site. He liked this place. He liked his daily rituals. But most of all, he liked his job.
At 9 a.m, finishing his last sip, he stepped over the threshold and into the hallway. The smell of cardamom was quickly replaced by the distinct combination that he had come to love. A tangy metallic scent of rust mixed with wet wood welcomed him home. A strong phenyl smell, which can best be described as a combination of Dettol and Coke, gave Rajat the right hit he needed to get into his working mindset.
“What work?” wondered Rajat as he stepped into the office labeled- Employment Bureau Relations.
He settled in one of the two desks in the room. The smaller one. It was the same solid wood desk that his dad had worked at for 35 years and the same desk where Rajat had worked for the last 6 years. He wouldn’t touch the other desk or disturb any of the garbage strewn around it. No one was supposed to. He set his lunchbox in the drawer, sat back, and looked around.
The chairs across his table were not arranged.
He got up, arranged them, and turned to go back to his seat.
As he got to his seat, a screech of wood against cement marked the disarray of his recent efforts. And the entry of Shyamal.
Shyamal made himself comfortable in the chair with a smirk on his face, as Rajat looked on with pursed lips. He looked much like Rajat- lean, dark, and youthful.
“What’s up?” asked Shyamal.
“Good morning. No work?”
“Ah, I've got a kind boss,” he waved off.
Shyamal continued, “Why do you come in so early? Enjoy a little. Or at least spend a little more time with your friends and family.”
Before Rajat could think of a solid response, Shyamal rolled on, “Nevermind that. Now that you have come in, let’s go for a chat in my office. We’ve got some great snacks.”
Shyamal worked in the Building Proposal Department.
A multilevel department with new people getting in every month. Shyamal himself had joined just a year back.
“Let me get some documents filled. I'll join you guys soon?” Rajat countered, just trying to get him out of his office. In reality, he was waiting for a very important meeting with his boss today.
“Careful now. I’ve found that a bit of relaxation helps you throughout the day,” said Shyamal.
Without animation, Rajat spoke, “Well, they called Newton crazy when he discovered apples.”
“Hahaha,” Shyamal got a glimpse of his old partner.
He began to get up. Then turned back and said, still laughing, “Hey. If you find someone. We’ve got seats to fill. It's your job and all.”
Maintaining a sincere look, Rajat nodded, “Definitely.”
With a mix of kind and self-assured cockiness, Shyamal declared, “We could have had the best job together. Still can if you try enough.”
Rajat just gave a scoff. But Shyamal was already at the door.
Watching Shyamal exit brought back thoughts of the day he had declared that he would be leaving the Employment Bureau and joining the Building Proposal Department. Many old, redundant departments were being scaled down into oblivion and the government employees were being transferred to other departments. Shyamal had been quick to grab this opportunity. After all, what better place to be than in Building Proposal for a town that was developing rapidly from the essence of quiescence into the heart of hustle.
New development meant new approvals and people were always swarming Building Proposal. Some things just can't get approved without a personal visit and detailed explanation to the authorities, it would appear.
Development also meant new jobs. Private jobs. And opportunities. And little use for an outdated government employment bureau.
But Rajat didn't see it that way. He was doing what his family was known for in this town since the last generation. For connecting young kids to careers they would enjoy and from which they could earn a proud living. It wasn’t mere job matching. They actually helped people. And the townsfolk respected them for it. But that was years ago.
Now, the internet and corporations had made things much easier. It was great for everyone. Except for one young man who had made it his life’s mission to talk to people and help shape their careers.
After all the agony of his lone self had consumed him, at 11 a.m, he was certain that there was nothing left in him. He finally got up, stretched his hands out and-
He pulled his hands down with a jerk. The door opened slowly and in walked a small, stout, old lady.
Wearing a neat and ironed sari with a heavy, brown sweater on top. She walked in with all the time in the world but still seemed to be labouring with each step. Rajat gave her a sharp, “Good morning, madam.” He got a curt nod in response.
First, she kept her bag on her chair and took an old rag that was tucked in a corner of the chair. She proceeded to wipe her table and then put the cloth away. Next, she picked up bits and pieces of packaging, gift wrapping, and paper plates from around her area.
“Cleanliness is next to godliness.”
She collected them all, took them, and threw them well outside the doors of the Employment Bureau Relations office; on the other side of the corridor.
Finally, she settled in and began looking around the room. Finding nothing, she reached out to the pile of files on her desk.
Rajat has already done the looking. There was nothing these days. Over the years, the sizes of gifts and food and thank you garlands had shrunk. They were at a point now where an occasional messenger with a package was a cause for celebrations.
If Rajat had prepared for a swift strike, his reviewer had planned for a day-long feast. Lunchtime came around. No summons. Rajat sat fidgeting in his seat as the clock chimed 2 and then 3 and then 4. Nothing.
At five past four, he was boiling with fear and contempt and coughing nervously every two minutes. Finally, the call came.
“So, have you made a decision?”
How could he? “No..” he responded.
“Hmm. Look, you know what will happen. We’ve known for years now.”
She continued, “and I’ve had enough to explain to higher-ups about you.”
Rajat just kept his head down.
Maybe that melted her a little, “Just commit to another department. It will be good for you. Your family, your future.”
“I don’t know how,” he shrugged.
She made the offer, “There is a new position. Building Proposal, same as our Shyamal.”
Though Rajat’s neck straightened and a spark came in his eyes for a moment, he kept his silence.
Getting nothing, she retorted, “This department is closing as soon as I retire. No personnel. You like it or not.”
This is what he had feared. The ultimatum that had been on her lips for months now, had finally spilled over.
This was what he had been preparing for the whole day. He had his response.
This is what she had been preparing for the whole day. For this, she had broken her vows of silence.
And it was all Rajat could do to not get distracted.
A young lady at the window had caught the corner of his eye and, braving the broken chain of command, he dared to look away from the meeting.
He found a face that he had seen a thousand times before. A face twisted with fear and eyes stretched up in anticipation.
“Ma’am, you have served and will leave soon. I shall too. For as long as I can. Sorry,” he said without hesitation and walked out.
When he returned 10 minutes later, the room was cleaned out. As per the 5pm traditions.
Behind him, walked Ritu.
“Please be comfortable,” Rajat offered a chair.
He inquired, “What brings you here?” he leaned in from across the table and lent her his complete attention.
Ritu started with a voice mixed with gurgles, “I have a bachelor's. Used to work at the Public Works Department office before I had to quit. It has been difficult to get back. I need to get back. I need to. And no corporation has worked out.”
She paused. But Rajat offered nothing other than his inquisitive eyes. So she continued with her story. By the end of it, she was not on the verge of crying anymore. Her posture had turned from rigid to a comfortable slouch. Rajat realised that it was not the end of the world scenario it had seemed in the beginning. Well, maybe to her it was. They are all nervous. All the time.
After a 10 minutes flow, she finished with a calmer voice, “I just need a job and with my experience, it has been hard.”
Rajat’s eyes lit up. A challenge?
He had spent 10 minutes simply listening to her. He had a good idea in his mind about where she should be. He wanted to push it back and think more. Get a better idea. “Give me 2 minutes.”
But he didn’t need 2 minutes. His instinct knew the right answer.
He felt a nervous flutter of heart as he began to speak. As if he was doing something wrong. Perhaps wrong for someone. In some sense.
“I can come back tomorrow when you are free,” Ritu offered.
“We have an opening in Building Proposal. Should be good,” Rajat’s voice carried none of his internal doubts.
Her eyes were stunned and were simply blinking. But her lips had betrayed her- they were stretched up and wide.
“But you will come back tomorrow for the paperwork.”
She huffed out a laugh as she thanked him. And with that, she left.
Soon after, Rajat began packing his things. He collected his lunchbox and walked into the corridors and out the building. A slow walk would take him home.
One mission restored. One day saved. One. Of his last few days.
By Shashwat Sahoo
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