I had known Babu Ramji Ram, my illustrious neighbour, for the past twenty five years of my working career. But it seemed to me as though I knew him for ages. (Well for that matter twenty five years could also not be considered a short period of time by any means). Ramji Ram and the likes of him typified a class of people who somewhat resembled the rock of Gibraltar - changeless, static and might I add stagnant in today’s fast paced scenario. Everything surrounding/relating to Ramji Ram had a timeless quality.
From time immemorial I had seen Ramji Ram dressed in a particular attire – crisply starched dhoti, a long shirt (different colour for each day of the week) with a matching half coat on top; in winters the half coat would be replaced by a pullover/blazer/woolen shawl; a monkey cap would protect the bald patch adorning most part of his scalp surrounded by a fringe of dark curly bush. No! There was nothing wrong with his outfit. On the contrary, I rather liked its Indianness. He was incorrigibly addicted to paan as a result of which the enamel of his teeth was permanently tinted crimson. I had caught him sniffing snuff occasionally. His robust torso told him he was fond of good food and a sedentary life style to compliment his happy-go-lucky disposition.
The other day I was a bit surprised to find him and his wife arriving at my door step with a big box of sweets. “Hum maneezer ban gaya hoon naa…hey…hey” He showed me his visiting card as though there were chances of me not believing him without documentary evidence. I joined in the “hey..hey” with an extra spoon of glee not because I was overjoyed to hear the news but to hide pure astonishment. Ramji Ram left home everyday at about tennish reaching office around elevenish and left office at four o’clock sharp. A mutual acquaintance had once confided that post lunch Ramji Ram was not to be found on his seat (as though he ever was) at least for an hour. It was a very reliable source who divulged the secret of a favourite sofa in one remote corner of the office which saw him reclining at a particular time of the day just to get over the exhaustion at work. No wonder it took every ounce of my imagination to reconcile to Ramji Ram’s happy announcement. But need I be so amazed? Ramji Ram was a secured employee of one of the more sophisticated arms of the Government whose strength never relied on merit. It survived on seniority and experience (???).Ramji, thus, had his regular elevation written on his forehead the day he joined office!
The other day I saw him brandishing his I-Card to arouse the Capital’s lackadaisical Administration for some additional mileage. Day before yesterday my car narrowly escaped a dent. The culprit was a brand new, shining Honda City. As I got down to remonstrate the driver, a scarlet smile of a very well known face met me, “Sorry madamji, haath phisal gaya tha…Kal hii liya hoon…loan pe” I was stunned to witness Ramji’s overnight splendour. His khatara Maruti 800 languishing dustily in one corner of the street!!
I realized how a promotion not only indicated hierarchical ascendancy it also meant social elevation, increased purchasing power, opportunity to throw one’s weight around – we encashed our organizational position in more than one way. Its another thought that every grade should have its respective induction programme so that the upgraded employee knew exactly what his organization required of him in his present position, how he was supposed to conduct/groom himself for his current and forthcoming assignments/posts and how to give back to the organization in return of what it had bestowed on him unwarranted. But these were mental chews of a wanderer best forgotten. Whilst we crib about the deteriorating work culture in the lanes & by-lanes of the Government, the Ramji Ram clan obdurately follows the same routine – reaching office by mid day and leaving on (his notional) time of departure.
