Right Boss

Right boss

………

I knocked on the door of the chamber.

“Come in” I could hear Mr.Hajela calling out.

“Were you searching for me?” I asked with curiosity as I had just joined duty after spending 15 days of leave with my parents in Delhi.

“Bolt the door, I don’t want anyone to enter now.”

I was a bit apprehensive but as commanded I bolted the door from inside and sat down in front of his desk.

He opened his drawer, took out my leave application and said, “I have not sent this to the personal department yet. You said you don’t have enough leave so a part will be without pay.”

“Yes sir,” I said.

Then he did a surprising thing which I remember still to this date. He just tore off my application and said, “Now you have your leave and no pay cut.”

I became emotional by his that gesture and got up to shake his hand.

He said “I know I have called you in the dead of night to attend emergency in the plant and every time you have come willingly even leaving club parties. This is your reward, but then you know you have many types of friends so don’t share this with anyone.”

I thanked him profusely with tears in my eyes.

“Now go concentrate in your work.”

That was Mr.Hajela Deputy Chief in Electrical maintenance and my boss in Barauni Refinery, IOC. That action of his on that day made me more loyal to him. He was a flamboyant character and loved clubbing. In the club bar we were like friends, the barrier of boss and subordinate was breached there.

Coking unit was one of the vital plants of the refinery and I was responsible for electrical maintenance of that unit. I was often called in the night to attend failure of some circuit or of some drive motor. Due to some reason if I was not able to restore the fault quickly then I would find Mr.Hajela standing behind me to give moral support.

During office hours he would come by his official jeep and then would hand over it for our use. Kedar Singh, the driver will come to report to me with his log book. It was Kedar Singh who would pick me up from my quarter or from officer’s club in the night for attending emergency break downs.

I was confident that Mr.Hajela was there behind me always, a kind of blind faith. That faith gave me confidence to assure my technicians of me being there for their difficult times. That faith worked like magic, I could get their unadulterated loyalty.

For the sake of overtime payment often workers would delay the repair and put the plant on the edge. In such cases my pet rigger Tarachand would bargain with the workers on my behalf for completing the work as early as possible and he would make sure they get overtime of 5 hours for that day. This formula worked always, I could enter into such unholy nexus for the sake of completion of work because I had the blessings of Mr.Hajela. It was win win situation for both workers as well as for the organization.

On looking back I realize that much of my human engineering skill I learnt from him which I honed further by my diverse experience.

As I started climbing the corporate ladder in IOC and BHEL all those skill learnt in IOC,Barauni Refinery came handy.

The basic takeaway from Mr.Hajela was that the subordinate should feel that there is someone who looks after his interest. The boss is always there to help him with resources in work, in his difficult times, and makes sure that he gets his due appreciation.  I made it my job to align aspirations of my people with the goal of the organization. Finally it is the teamwork which produces the desired results. In short it is the empathy towards people which always gives rich dividend. The final result is mutual trust between boss and the subordinate.

I believe initial character building of an individual takes place by observing his parents and then comes teachers. Down the line somewhere friends play important role but the most important role in work life is played by the first boss. I was lucky that I could get Mr.Hajela as my first boss.

Many years later when I was heading BHEL,Eastern Region Mr.Hajela came to meet me , by that time he had retired as Director of HSCL and joined a private organization.

He was happy to see me in that position and I readily admitted to him that it was him who was responsible for my initiation in handling people and which had helped me to ascend.

Arabian nights

………………….

Arabian nights

I was always fascinated by the 1001 stories of Arabian Nights.

The story goes that Shahryar  found out one day that his first wife was unfaithful to him. Therefore, he resolved to marry a new virgin each day as well as behead the previous day's wife, so that she would have no chance to be unfaithful to him. He had killed 1,000 such women by  the time he was introduced to Scheherazade, the vazier's daughter ,the Scheherazade had perused the books, annals and legends of preceding Kings, and the stories, examples and instances of bygone men and things.

Against her father's wishes, Scheherazade volunteered to spend one night with the king. Once in the king's chambers, Scheherazade asked if she might bid one last farewell to her beloved sister, Dunyazade who had secretly been prepared to ask Scheherazade to tell a story during the long night. The king lay awake and listened with awe as Scheherazade told her first story. The night passed by, and Scheherazade stopped in the middle of the story. The king asked her to finish, but Scheherazade said there was no time, as dawn was breaking. So, the king spared her life for one day to finish the story the next night. The next night, Scheherazade finished the story and then began a second, ….thus goes on….but as the legends suggest all the stories are not written by the same author….for example Alaadin and the Wonderful lamp was added by a French translator  Antoine Galland who heard it from a Syrian story teller in 18^th century…similarly the other stories started getting included to make the number to 1001..

That second Saturday with mindful of Arabian Night I went for my usual hunt for pirated DVDs in Gariahat. I have some targeted DVD shops where I browse through the stacks. Once in a while I come across a dwarfish looking bearded hawker in a colorful gown with a funny cap selling a few DVDs but somehow no one bothers to go to him, he too does not make the usual noises to attract customer.  Yes he was there on that day and gave me a strange look.

“Looking for Arabian Night movies?” He threw those words from the corner of his mouth like a ventriloquist.

I frowned at him and walked towards his wares.

“Are you a genie out of the magic lamp or what?” Teasingly I said.

“More or less!” He shrugged in his that colorful gown.

He pulled out a frayed book and asked me to have a look. The book was;

 THE BOOK OF THE THOUSAND NIGHTS AND A NIGHT

A Plain and Literal Translation

of the Arabian Nights Entertainments

by Richard F. Burton

It was the original 1889 publication and would be counted as antique. I was nervous because it could be a stolen one.

“You take a look at the book and take this DVD.”

“What is so special about this DVD?”

“This DVD will tell you the story from the book. You put the DVD in the player and play. An empty space will appear where you put your date of birth in 4 digits with date and month in that order. It is password protected.”

“How do you know my date of birth?”

“I don’t but as per your date of birth it will scan a story for you matching with your star and the number worked out using numerology from your date of birth.”

“All the 1001 stories are there in this single DVD?”

“No, but the like The Arabian Night you have to listen to the stories till the end of the DVD, it may take whole night.”

“What about the book?”

“Oh that is like a family loom passed on through generation to me. We are from erstwhile East Bengal and my forefathers were sailors. This book was gifted by a Turkish Sheikh to one of my ancestor.Just to get your attention i showed this book to you.” He carefully took the book back from me and put it in the leather bag lying by his side.

I purchased the DVD by paying him double the cost of what I actually pay to others.

On Saturdays I watch DVD in the night after dinner, my wife goes to sleep early.

It was 10 o’clock in the night I inserted the disc in the player and sat on my usual sofa with two remotes in hand. My wife had already gone to bed, I half closed the bedroom door and reduced the volume of TV.

I started playing the DVD, as told the empty window appeared, I put my date of birth with month and pushed “Enter” on the DVD remote.

On the screen the scenes from Middle East country side appeared with suiting Middle East music. There were sandy dunes, mud houses,souques. Alaadin and the Wonderful Lamp was the random pick by the system. I got engrossed in the movie till Alaadin has retrieved the lamp from the cave for the crooked khalifa, then Khalifa cheats him by taking away the lamp. The story was slowly building up till Alaadin takes back the lamp from the khalifa and gives it to his mother. His mother looked at the lamp and thought that she can get good money by selling the lamp so she starts rubbing the lamp to clean. Suddenly the room gets filled with cloud and the genie comes out of the spout of the lamp.

I was taken aback to see that the genie was the same person from whom I had purchased the DVD. I started feeling as though I am in the same place with Alaadin, his mother and the genie. That man who is genie now holds my hand and says “Are you ready for Arabian Night Stories?.”

I was flummoxed by this turn of event, I was in a trance like state and hesitantly said,” Yes.”

“Ok, come with us.” He held my hand and pulled me towards the TV screen.

“Wait, let me leave a note for my wife.” I told the genie.

Dearest Anima,
I have written it down for you to know that I am going for a long voyage of Arabian Nights. In case I don’t return then contact Pratul, he would know what action to take.Don't worry will come back after the voyage.
Yours,

Kaushik

I was sitting in my drawing room when Pratul showed me the letter with the amazing story.

“Kaushik is missing for the last one week, his wife contacted me and gave this letter.”
I read the story. I tried to imagine the scene. There Kaushik was on his sofa when suddenly the genie, a dwarf comes out of the TV screens and takes him along and vanishes in the screen. Somewhat like Harry Potter story of improbable. Kaushik getting transformed into a character of Arabian Night and evaporates.I thought to myself ,"Did he go out by himself?"

So i asked,“What about the outer door? Was that open, it could be a prank.” 

“The mortice look was in place, the collapsible gate was locked from inside.”

“You mean he just evaporated like camphor. Have you tried to find out the hawker at Gariahat.” I asked.

“Yes for the last one week I am spending four to five hours there in search of that colorful dwarf with no result.” He said with defeat in his voice.

Kaushik is mutual friend of me and Pratul. I knew Kaushik was a bit disturbed for sometimes after his retirement also knew he was fond of watching English movies.

“His wife has informed police and their daughter.”

I could not reconcile with the story that he walked inside the TV, it so surreal that I started getting goose bumps thinking about it.I too went to Gariahat and inquired about that colorful dwarf from the DVD hawkers. None of them had ever seen that fellow.

After a fortnight or so I got a letter through regular post.

It was from Kaushik.

Dear samar,

Pratul must have met you and showed you the letter which I left for Anima. Don't worry I am fine. Whatever you read about genie is the result of my grey cells, i tried my hand in writing a story. How did you like that? Nothing like that has happened. That night when I could hear Anima’s snore then I picked up my bag which was already packed, changed my dress and took the money bag with my debit cards. Opened the door unlocked the lock on the collapsible gate. Again I put the lock with my duplicate key by putting my hands through the grills and then pull the inner door and heard the click sound of mortice lock.

I just want to be alone for sometimes will visit some remote places in hills as you know I love nature. My request to you is not to let out the secret but give hope to Pratul and Anima that I will be back some day. There is enough money in the bank for Anima and also my monthly pension will be deposited in our joint account.

I will keep you informed time to time but don’t try to locate me by using your usual detecting skill.

Yours.

Kaushik

Kaushik has retired a few years back. He often would tell me that he was struggling to put his life on rail. I knew that his restless mind was trying to figure out an alternate fruitful life. I also knew Kaushik loves travelling and his wife is a reluctant traveler. Kaushik must be trying to live a bohemian life for a change. I am pretty sure that he will come back.

I let out a sigh of relief and started framing a convincing story for Pratul and Anima.

Baptism by fire

Baptism by fire

………………………………………

It was a taut game, points going neck to neck.

From the left corner of the net I flicked the shuttle over the net to the back court of our opponent, Harnal who was covering back a 6ft towering personality smashed it and the shuttle fell just outside the court. I shouted out but Harnal had already moved to the other half of the court taking it granted for a point scored. I looked up at some of the spectators standing by the side of court for their judgment but they all looked at Harnal who was glaring at them, they meekly said ,”The shuttle fell on the line.”

I was not satisfied but my partner Gandhi accepted it to be out. Thus the game went on with Harnal and Marwah winning that game.

 It was every evening scene in Gauhati Refinery Officer’s club of IOC. Mr.Harnal the second most powerful man of the refinery was a badminton fanatic, Marwah was his permanent partner with me and Gandhi as his opponent. The best court was reserved for us and we would get the new shuttles. Sometimes the feather of the Aeroflight shuttle would get frayed then Harnal would shout for new shuttle and we too would join in the shout when PRS our club secretary and Executive Engineer of Electrical department would run inside for shuttle cursing us.  Marwah, Gandhi and me were just Engineer Trainee, the start of our career. All the officers were scared of Harnal, he would pick us up from our hostel for the game every day. The towering figure of Harnal would enter the club like a general with his racquet held as rifle and we would follow him with lot of swagger. Any officer or their wives playing in our court would immediately vacate, PRS would be waiting with new shuttles. PRS would make sure that flood lights were properly aligned with all bulbs burning. He would often request us to save him from the wrath of Harnal. Our playing badminton game every day was a daily humiliation for PRS which we never realized , for us it was still an extension of our college life, staying in hostel with common mess and no direct duty assigned during training period.

But then fortune took a turn fort worst for me. Harnal was transferred to Barauni refinery and Marwah who was  senior to us got confirmed when Harnal was still there and managed a general shift  posting in testing department courtesy Harnal. Gandhi was selected for short service commission in Army so I was left behind. PRS got promoted as DyChief looking after electrical maintenance and power station. I was undergoing specialized training in power station and another 4 months or so was left. PRS was holding a grudge against us because of all those humiliation he underwent in the club. I was the only one got caught in his firing line. He knew that the club was the life line for us bachelors. I was a duly elected club committee member and would be active  in organizing various activities of the club.  He wanted to clip my wings by putting me in shift duties in the power house immediately after his taking over charge which would give him sadistic pleasure of my not able to attend the club regularly. Our protector Harnal was not there, he was succeeded by one Kaushal to whom PRS was reporting. That guy Kaushal was not much clubbing type and I did not know him well because I was pretty low in the hierarchical order.

Duly PRS took out an order for me to go in shift of one Jaiswal and who would come out in general shift. For me going in shift meant missing club most of the days, it would have been a punishment for me as i explained. As I had not completed my training period yet so some of my seniors from production department advised me to write a letter for early regularization to Assistant Engineer (that was the designation those days) as I had been asked to take full charge. I wrote such letter to Mr.Kaushal with a copy to training officer, did not mark any copy to PRS. I was lucky that i had lot of well wishers due to my taking part in football, badminton and club activities.

 On the given day I was walking towards the refinery in general shift when PRS who was passing me in his jeep stopped and asked, “How come you are coming in general shift? You go back and come in evening shift.” 
With a deadpan face I said, “ What shift? I am still a trainee so cannot take charge.”

“How dare you challenge my order? You are still a trainee! I will make sure that you go to shift today.” Fuming he drove off.

That incidence of my defying PRS became a talking point of the refinery. My friends and fellow football players got worried about my future, I was cool.

A big meeting took place in Kaushal’s office with PRS , Executive Engineer Power Station and Executive Engineer Training to decide about my fate. Later on I heard that one question from the Executive Engineer Power plant decided the issue.

It was Mr.H C Goswami an Assamese gentleman who was power plant incharge said,” He is still a trainee. Who will be responsible if any accident takes place in his shift? I know for a fact he had unofficially handled shift many times to help the shift engineers  those who wanted to go for some urgent business but this is a regular shift duty.”

Finally it was decided that I could not be put in shift as the training period was not over. Those days the training periods were sacrosanct and no one of the local management could fiddle with it. The corporate office in Delhi used to send posting order after completion of training period.

By the time I completed my training period the order came from Delhi  for my transfer to Barauni refinery, PRS could not have his revenge of putting me in shift.

The above incident was my introduction to the real world of dog eat dog meat, the shark tank !

Dadhichi's bone

Dadhichi’s bone

……………………..

                           My magic

Bhuban often visits my house, knows about my latest hobby of performing magic and posting those in YouTube. He is one of my side kicks who arranges knick knack for magic tricks.

The other day he narrated his experience with magic.

 You know that day from your house I straight went to Howrah station to catch a local train to Guskara. I got a train after waiting for half an hour, the train started and all kind of hawkers started selling their wares. After a few stations a boy got up and started showing magic, I remembered about you. He showed a vanishing trick, the passengers happily gave him money for providing entertainment; I too gave him a rupee. I stuck friendship with him; his name was Dilip .I started enquiring.

“Who taught you the magic?”

“My guruji , he lives in my village.”

“Where is your village?”

“Next station is my stop, my village is about 3 kms from the station.”

It was afternoon time and I had time to spare so I thought why not go with that boy and meet his Guru. I was thinking about you and your hobby of magic. Thought can get some magic related idea from that Guru of his.

“Can I come with you to meet your Guru? Will he be there?”

Dilip said,” Yes, you can come but be ready to travel by cycle van. There is no bus service.”

We got down at the next station, walked out. It is a small town, we took a van rickshaw for his village . After a kilometer the rickshaw came down from the metaled road to a muddy road leading to his village. It took us about 40 minutes to reach the village.

I paid for the rickshaw, taking the dirt road we walked in the quint village. There were thatched roof houses, trees and ponds. I did not see any people or animals in the village. It looked like a picture post card village without any life, it was eerie.  Within five minutes we reached a brick house with a small garden in the front. Dilip opened the wicket gate and invited to come with him. I followed him to the back of the house. A gentleman in white dhoti and kurta was reclining on an easy chair with a book. Dilip coughed to indicate his presence; the gentleman smiled at him and looked questioningly towards me.

“Guruji, here is Bhubanda ,he wants to meet you. He is from Guskara.”

“Please come and sit here.” He gestured towards a vacant space on the running verandah. Smilingly he produced a guava from the air and offered me to eat.

“Why do you want to meet me?”

I was impressed by the guava trick and so enthusiastically told him “Dilip’s magic attracted me to you. I am quite impressed that you could train him so well that he can confidently show magic at this tender age. That too bang in the midst of passengers, without any stage to prepare for the tricks.”

Guruji smiled and said, “Not only Dilip I have trained some more boys of the village. A few are performing regularly in functions.”

“That’s impressive!” admiringly I said.

“Guruji, show him the magical power of that bone of some rishi.” Dilip requested.

Guru raised his hand and started levitating, then produced a bone from the thin air, aimed it to a tree in the courtyard. I saw a flash and small explosion on the trunk of the tree. I was nonplussed by his levitation and the power of the bone.

“This is Dadhichi’s bone.” He said.

“You mean Dadhichi whose mention is there in Puran.”

“Yes the same Dadhichi. You may know his story but let me repeat it for the sake of Dilip. When Lord Indra was driven out of heaven by Vrutrasur then he went to Brahma, Vishnu and Maheshwar for help. He was advised by Vishnu to make Vajrashtra with the bones of Dadhichi. So Indra went with devas to Dadhichi on earth and requested him to donate his bones to make Vajrashtra so that the same can be used against Asura. Incidentally this Asura was a Brahmin who turned against Devas. Dadhichi did the ultimate sacrifice by dying and donating his bones for making weapons. Indra and devas won the war by using the Vajrashtra made by Dadhichi’s bone. ” He held up the bone lovingly.

I was skeptical; I did not believe the story but had watched the power.

“This sounds a bit far fetched.” I said.

“This bone has great power, I got it from a Rishi. It has destructive power. I generally don’t show this to anyone but you came with my favorite disciple so showed you. "Guru went on outwardly unflapped by my remark.

Then I thought if I can get that bone for you then you will have one more trick in your bag.

“Is this the only one you have or you have some more, may be a small piece?”

“I may have a small one but have to perform some puja to activate it.”

I requested him to keep one ready for me.

“Ok,you come next full moon day, I will keep one ready for you ,of course for a price.”

Bhuban looked at me for my approval for that venture of getting the bone of Dadhichi from that Guru in some unknown village.

I said, “Ok”

After a fortnight Bhuban came to me with a crestfallen face. I immediately knew that he has failed in his mission but allowed him to say.

Yesterday I took a train to that station, as Dilip was not there so I went alone by taking a cycle van like last time. I took the same dirt road but could not find the village. Surprisingly the villages I came across were all having small brick and mortar houses made by the government. That quaint village with trees and ponds has just vanished.

I consoled him, “Don’t worry. Next time when you come across Dilip then go with him.”

Bhuban couldn’t meet Dilip so far though he took almost all the local trains going towards that direction, the other hawker boys too could not recall Dilip. But Bhuban still sometimes gets down at that station and goes by cycle van in search of that illusive village.

                                    Magic by Dilip in the train