Working Woman's Wonders- Part One

                                                  Here's one of me at an office function

                                                                 Just a few images

One of the delights of getting dressed and going to work every morning is the interesting people I get to meet during the course of the day. For a writer, this is a gold mine for sourcing characters to depict in my novels. Many of the people I come across feature in my works without them knowing it. I’m going to share some of the jewels I come across but, since they exist and are very much part of my office, I’m compelled to change their names. So please bear with me.

At present one of the chief characters is someone I shall call ‘Jeevanji.’ He’s fifty-five, podgy, cantankerous and a Smart Alec. He also occupies a supervisory position in my office. One day not so long ago my PA Deepak (name changed, of course) announced that Jeevanji wanted to see me.

“Send him in,” I said, presuming he wanted some clarifications regarding a meeting we’d scheduled the following day outside Chandigarh.

He entered with a pained expression on his face and, after taking a seat across my desk, declared that he was forced to approach me because he was being mistreated in the office.

“Mistreated?” I said in surprise.

“Yes, Madam. As you know, I never trouble you unless it’s unavoidable* but I have to report that Gopichand is showing me disrespect.”

(*bull&@#?+)

Gopichand is Jeevan’s bugbear, a cocky but intelligent subordinate, and the one to whom I’d delegated the work of organizing the next day’s meeting.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Well, he’s preparing folders for the meeting and he’s given me...well...an ordinary pen.”

I stared. “Excuse me?”

“Yes,” Jeevan said with a snivel. “An ordinary pen. I should have a better pen since I’m senior to the rest of the officials attending the meeting.”

I’d set a limit of twenty rupees for pens that are put into files along with small notebooks at such conferences or meetings. Now, I could scarcely believe my ears.

“What kind of pen do you want, Jeevanji?”

“Well, it should be better than the others’, at least thirty or forty rupees.” He went on to explain that by the grace of God he was well- to- do and it wasn’t that he couldn’t afford to buy himself a pen but it was the principle of the thing.

“All right,” I conceded, “I’ll tell Gopi to put a better pen in your folder.”

“Thank you, Ma`am,” he said brightening, and left my chamber with a spring in his step.

The meeting went off well the next day. Jeevanji, Gopichand, and a few other officials from my office travelled an hour and a half out of Chandigarh to the venue and there didn’t seem to be any tension during the two hours we spent there. The day after, however, Jeevanji was back in my chamber red-faced and apparently on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

“What’s happened now?” I exclaimed.

“Madam, I am constrained to report a serious matter,” he said in a choked voice. “I was manhandled yesterday.”

“Manhandled?” I must admit I was worried.

“Well, not exactly,” he said, much to my relief. “But they...they treated me very badly while travelling to the meeting.” Jeevan, Gopichand and two other officials travelled together in a hired vehicle, a Tata Indica. He went on to explain they’d planned things in such a way that he was the last to be fetched (at his own request, I’m sure) and when he got into the car he found they’d all taken their seats. He was forced into the backseat between Gopichand and another chap. “And all through the journey, they squeezed me from both sides!” he said, gesturing with his elbows. “Each time the car turned a corner, they fell on top of me.”

I tried hard to maintain an impassive facade but I was nearly collapsing with laughter on the inside.

“You’re senior to them,” I said, “Why didn’t you insist on a window seat? You could’ve sat in front with the driver, too.”

“No, Ma`am, you don’t know what it was like. They were three against me.”

“If they were being rude you, as their senior, could’ve simply told the driver to stop the car and ordered them to get out. They could’ve taken a bus back to Chandigarh.”

“No, Madam, I am not such a harsh person.”

“Well, what is it you want me to do?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to bring this to your kind notice. For the future.”

I was perplexed but agreed to make a note of it- for future reference; won’t force him to travel in the same vehicle with Gopichand again.

“One more thing, Ma`am, since you’ve spared your valuable time...He took my file away.”

“Gopi? Which file?”

“The one...the one with my pen. He picked it up with the rest of the folders after the meeting.”

“But that was his job, Jeevanji. He collects the unused folders- or used ones and brings them back to Chandigarh. He picked mine up, too. I’m sure he’ll return yours. Do you want me to tell him?”

“Yes, Ma`am. With the pen, please.”

Every word of this is true. Watch this space for more such jewels.

And now for Dolly Parton's unforgettable '9 to 5'