PART 1

“Could I speak to Mr.Jonson please”, Raj enquired over the phone in a far from perfect American accent on which he had been working on for months. “I’m sorry you can’t. He has gone to the loo”, a lady’s voice replied with evident repugnance. Not willing to give up, he followed the protocol he was taught during his training sessions, “is there a number where I can reach him”, he asked with a very professional air about his voice. His question was answered by a bout of silence followed by a “Bloody Indians”, followed by a “slam” of the phone. Raja had heard from his colleagues that Americans did not like to talk to Indians who faked their accent and it was not his fault that they could not make anything out of the English that Indians spoke. He was only doing his job!

“Amal, where’s Loo yaar?” he asked the boy-next-cabin, not looking at him but at the world atlas, with his eyes hovering over it in nystagmoid movements making a vain attempt at locating the place on the globe. He had spotted Waterloo. Maybe “Loo” was short for Waterloo, he wasn’t too sure. He was convinced that Americans were a lazy lot for they were forever on energy-conservation mode. they had a shortened term for practically everything- “pics” for “pictures”, “dics” for “dictionaries and what’s more, they did not even take the pain to add the “u’s” in “colour”, “odour” and “flavour”. “Duh-uh, you’ve been here a month dude. Now don’t tell me you’ve been pissing on the office walls all this while!” his office neighbor replied with his face mirroring sheer disgust and looking at the quizzed expression on Raj’s face, he curtly pointed to the two doors at the end of the huge air-conditioned hall, divided into box-like cabins better known as workstations. One door had a picture of a king on it while the other had a queen. Raj buried his face in his palms and prayed for the earth to open up. Even if his prayers were answered, he would only land up on the sixth floor and that would hardly be of any significant help. He understood “toilet”, he understood “latrine”, but “loo”? One of the many mistakes he made in a day and each was a training session in itself. “Next time you don’t understand something buddy, just ask me before replying. It will save you a lot of trouble and besides, I am always here to help”, Amal said with a reassuring hand on Raj’s shoulder and walked off. “He’s a nice guy”, Raj thought to himself, “Considering the fact that we joined in together and he is already a few steps ahead of me on the corporate ladder, he hardly has any airs about himself”.

“You must be out of your mind!” his father had barked when he had graduated from an unheard-of college in Kashmir and expressed his desire to work in a call-center. His mother did not know what a call-center was and hence was in no position to comment. She just hoped that it had nothing to do with call girls. The father tried hard to turn him around but the determined lad would not relent. “But Baba, I want to rise above this small-town life. We were taught English in school and my friend told me that if you know English, you can work in a call centre and they pay you well”, he protested. This was however not what Raj’s father had planned for him, he had sincerely hoped that his son would put his education to good use and help him expand his dairy business. Amidst disappointment and a heated exchange of ideas, he realized that he had no control over the grown-up boy who now had a mind and ambitions of his own. Consenting half –heartedly, he decided to let go and Raja had not looked back ever since.

They would take him in, he was sure. After all, he had scored well in English and only the accent was left to be acquired and that was not a cause for worry, they would train him anyway. The recruitment drive was in a week’s time and he had to prepare himself. Since his mother had no support to offer, he would practice his conversational skills on the benighted cows who mooed and ruminated on, quite oblivious to the fact that they were being talked to. Raj however, chose to believe otherwise. To him, they seemed to be attentive listeners if only they were a wee bit more responsive! One particular cow called Nunda was his favorite because she looked him in the eye while he blurted sentences meaninglessly out of a translation manual.

The week closed in and it was time to leave. Raj packed a bagful of belongings and his mother stuffed the air spaces between objects with jars of pickles and packets of fried eatables which could last him a month. Shouldering the bag, he bid adieu to his family, abode and cows and set upon a long journey to a new life ahead. As he trudged towards the bus-stop through the serpentine mountain road in an unusually warm day, his mind filed up with visions of the future. If they took him in, he would be designated a ‘customer care executive’- he couldn’t care less about customer care but the word “executive” bore a lot of weight. He could already visualize himself in a crisp white shirt, well-cut trousers- very unlike the loose, ill-fitting ones men in his town sported and not to forget the brand new ties he had bought and the hair gel with which he would slick back his hair to look like a true gentleman. He would introduce himself as “Raj”, because “Raju” (the name his parents had chosen for him) sounded too er….rural? “Raj” sounded far more dynamic and besides, his favorite movie star too was called by that name. It would impress the ladies for sure. The air was so still and heavy with moisture that it seemed to weigh him down and the thin road trapped between two hill-slopes, lush with monsoon rains was filled with a leafy smell of chlorophyll. There was a hustle in the bushes and a frightened hedgehog scampered across the road right in front of him, but Raju paid o heed- he had better things to think about and he simply walked on. The twittering of magpies and the squeals of adolescent monkeys were rudely interrupted by the roar of a bus, the one he had been waiting for since long. He dozed off with visions of a promising future flitting between his ears and woke up only when the bus jerked to a final halt in Delhi- the city where he would live out his dreams.
(To be continued…)

PART 2

Now here he was, quite proud of his success at the interview which was actually a consequence of a lack of contenders and a less than enthusiastic interviewer. “Baba, I got the job!” he screamed over the phone and Baba too felt a tinge of pride within which grew with every detail his son fabricated.

However, it had been a rough ride at the call center and things did not turn out as glamorous as they seemed to be on the outside. No matter how hard he tried, the criticism remained as ruthless as ever. He would feel ecstatic whenever a customer would ask for his name; little knowing that it was only for the sole purpose of lodging a complaint. The next day, Queen Bee would give him a piece of her rotten mind and he would brood over his mistake for weeks. At times, he wondered whether he was good enough for the job and at times he was convinced that he wasn’t. Maybe he wasn’t as smart or well spoken as his metro-bred colleagues but he was trying. He watched all the Hollywood flicks he could lay his hands on, read books, spoke English to anyone who would care to listen and even took classes from the uncle next door. On occasions he even thought of simply walking out on the job – but no, he couldn’t possibly go back. What would his father say? He would become the new laughing stock among those small town people! Besides, the pay-packet was really plump. “You are here just because of your contract. Why don’t you just go back to where you have come from? You really don’t seem to belong here”, his boss had said staring him in the eye. The curt statement had hurt him and he had vowed to prove Queen Bee wrong.

It had been almost two years since his first day at this office and he was still stuck on “level-one” and the worst part was that his contract would come to an end next month. Maybe he really did not belong here but he still did not want to go back. All his friends had got their promotions and transfers- Amal was already a manager. He had grown to love Delhi and the lifestyle that comes with it. What would he do once he lost his job? Where would he go? He knew for certain that he would be shown the door in the next recruitment drive. He shuffled through the newspaper and internet for job options but couldn’t find any that he was suitable for. All papers had call-centers slashed across their pages and he did not want to end up in another one. He was confident that he would never make it there.

Unable to face dejection, he buried his face in his hands and his mind raced with vague and absurd thoughts which were interrupted by a familiar pat on the back. “Good –morning”, cooed Amal in his friendly voice, “did I disturb you?” Raj looked up at him and before he knew it, he was pouring out his heart full of dilemma and he suddenly felt much lighter and liberated. “I am not asking for advice or favors, I just want someone to listen. I feel like a worthless jerk”, he quickly clarified remembering that he was after all, talking to a manager. “Know what Buddy? You have inherited something that not many of us have- a powerful sense of business. You may not realize it at this moment, but you have already done a lot to secure your future. Your Baba might me a milk-man, but I reckon that he is a great one at that!” Raj looked perplexed, his squinted eyes demanding further explanation. “You are smart in a very dumb kind of way”, teased Amal, which made Raj’s eyes squint even more.

“Look buddy”, Amal started, “while all of us were busy splurging our salaries on designer clothes, watches and expensive gadgets, you wisely invested yours in land, apartments and property. I know we used to tease you for being “un-cool” but dude, that’s the smartest thing you could have done. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”
“You mean I should start a real estate business of my own?”
“You’re smart. Wish you the best” said Amal and walked off into his office.
.“Wow! All’s not lost yet. Let’s see, I have one huge plot bang in the middle of the city and two houses- if I build a small shopping complex on the plot with the rent from the houses and rent out the shops….hmmm. Nice” thought Raj to himself and his chest expanded with pride and new found hope. That was all that was needed to get Raj started and he did a little gig to celebrate his new brain wave. Next, he saw himself strutting over to Queen Bee’s office and handing over his resignation letter with a smile that puzzled the latter.

The advance payment and security deposit he got out of the rented apartments was enough to last him for half an year- time enough for him to invest in another piece of land. Now he knew where he belonged. He would one day buy off the whole office building and show Queen Bee all that he was worth! The very though of it brought a mischievous grin about his face. Baba would be so proud….

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