Chinu’s short stories 2 In any organization there are few committed persons whom the leader trusts and depends .they are workaholic, dedicated and carry out most of the vital desk tasks they feel coyish to take up primary posts in the organizations Raja is one such character. Yes. many such unobtrusive , commited workers who display boundless energy and enthusism in their work retire unsung and die unmourned . They just fade away. Sad indeed! This short story. An undelivered monologue was written by me in 1992 depicting the feelings of an employee on his retirement day An undelivered monologue Raja was restless since morning. Today he completed 60 years of his life and today was his last day in the Bank’s service. His colleagues, mostly young boys and girls, have arranged a send-off function. The Chairman of the Bank has offered to attend the function. Naturally so, because both of them worked together for about ten years, when the Chairman was an ordinary Officer. He selected the best clothes for the occasion. Raja’s children and wife were surprised to see their ‘old boy’ in such restive mood. Raja never bothered about selection of his clothes. He always used to get up with the idea of going to the Office and his wife used to have an uphill task in choosing him into tolerably decent clothes. She used to tell her friends with affection “ My Raja is suffering from his bank”. The solemnity with which Raja was going about at home unmistakably reflected his pensive mood and his whole body was shaking like a deaf. He started for Office. He was trying to compose his farewell speech at the function. Catching the bus, getting down at Fountain, - Bombay, signing the muster and all, were just reflex actions, which a good bank worker imbibes automatically during his long service. His mind was busy in preparing his speech. Hon’ble Chairman and my dear friends, I am extremely thankful for the honour you showered on me. You can never imagine how I feel about this honour. I promise I shall treasure every moment of this grand function. I am, also thankful for the honour bestowed on me by the Chairman for gracing this function with his august presence. I have served our Bank for 42 years and gave the best part of my life to this Bank. You will say; so what? You were paid for it! Frankly speaking pay days have come and gone month after month. I could never manage my affairs within my pay packet. The events in my life have always overtaken my pay. Even Chairman can stand witness for my plight. But, in spite of all the problems, I enjoyed my life in the Bank. Though my pay could never agree with my problems, my work gave me tremendous strength and abounding joy. Man justifies his life with the work; not with money. I felt my pay only for one day and thereafter I transferred the tug of war to my wife. When I joined the Bank, it was a time. Daily we were listening to the news of crumbling British Empire at our Iron Heel. I could never understand this mysterious city of Bombay. You will never understand Bombay, unless you witness one textile strike! I have seen those starving emaciated workers who used to transform themselves into a Big Giant. No police force or gundaas could ever contain them. I was always uneasy during the strike as to how do these guys face their valiance. I was fearing for their tomorrow. Once I timidly asked one guy my anxieties. That fellow bravely laughed and said, ‘Cowards die many times before their death, we die only once in our life. I felt ashamed! When you came though the turmoil of strikes and agitation, you will find Fort area-Bombay something different. In fact, we were aware of only our read eyed manager and our racing heartbeats. The tumultuous pulsating Parallel-textile belt and calm and imposing Fort this personality of the City is still a mystery to me. You are young boys. You will never realise how we loved our Bank. I was proud of my counters, my ledgers, my colleagues and my manager. I brought my wife to show her my bank. She could never understand what was so fascinating about the bank. She expected that I would talk retirement age for a doctor, a lawyer, a businessman, a politician, but for us retirement is compulsory. Why? Is it because workers’ Rights of citizenship are transferred automatically to their employers? This is a very big question for me. My competence is decided by my age whereas others’ competence is decided on their actual physical fitness. No do I wish to serve elsewhere, because I am a bank man and will die as a ‘good man to grow with’ of my bank. I am always at your service. I know you will not need my assistance, but for God’s sake do not consider this poor Raja as an old man. I will need of your hears and your upholding the honour of bank men will alone give me vital energy to organise my pension days. Recently some tupenny minister has stated bank men as greedy for money. Minister does not feel the obligation to keep of his own office. To understand a bank man, one has to experience the life of a bank man. The entire machine works on the mutual trust, integrity of the bank men. I have to say that even the Chairman who worked with us day in and day out, could not stand against this idiotic propaganda of Ministers and newspapers. Have they lost their honour and dignity, man? Is it too much to expect from them? or is it their fat salaries, commissions – Bofor’s like compromised their integrity? Once again I thank you all: Raja rehearsed this speech throughout but when he was asked to speak a few words, he spoke the following: Man, I can’t speak. I never spoke in my life I know only how to work. Pardon me for my inability. Thank you chinu 24-8-92
Posted on: Wed, 21 Jan 2015 05:29:43 +0000
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