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Welcome to the world of a secret romantic. Interesting individuals gifted me the backbone of the stories which wrote themselves. I have, of course, tweaked them the way my imagination would allow. Though years were lost, I plan to catch up with time now. The urge to bring the beauty of the time gone by is too strong! Enjoy!! Ajay P.S.:A comment with your views at the end of the blog will be appreciated.

Saturday, 16 June 2018

A Good Man

Can a person be truly selfless?

And brilliant?

And religious?

All at the same time?

Difficult, but Mohammed Rafi was just that!

And more!

I was a rookie when Rafi was already a legend in the organization. I had heard of him but did not come across him until much later. People used to say that he could fix any switchgear. These switch-gears were complicated and temperamental! They would often refuse to obey the simplest of commands at their whim. There were others who were good at fixing them but Rafi stood apart in sheer class.

He also stood apart in the way he responded. Call on him any time, any hour, in any conditions he would just smile and join you in a second. Sometimes the person responsible would even hand over the problem to Rafi and disappear from the scene. Rafi just shrugged and dismissed such uncouth and selfish behaviour in the only way he knew – with a smile!

I came into his contact quite some time later. For a legend, he looked very ordinary! Of medium build, of features that would not stand out in a crowd of two, with a soft voice and few words – he was unimpressive! However, something drew me to him. I could not put my finger on it then but now I know.

Our office group comprised very different personalities – some bossy, some airy-fairy, some crass, some paternal, some boring, some dour and what not! Rafi was none of these.

Owing to the new theory of job rotation he was transferred to the front-line distribution function after spending long years in the centralized high tension section, where he had built his reputation.

Quietly doing his work (and often he would be allocated low-level tasks in his new role), he was uncomplaining and since I was the junior most in the group, he would often consult me.

Whatever task was assigned to him, he did it diligently and without complaint. I found gradually that it was a feature of his professionalism. He never balked at stepping out of his comfort zone to learn new things.

He was often bullied by an individual but all he did was smile. I later understood that this bullying came out of jealously owing to the clash between mediocrity and brilliance.

A strong friendship developed between us. Differences in age, background, education, religion, experience did not matter.

We were as different as two individuals can be. He was soft spoken; I was quick tempered. He was in awe of senior officers; I respected few and not because of their position in the hierarchy. I was slowly gathering a group of people around me (they mistakenly saw me as their leader); he usually dropped to the back of any gathering and tried to become as inconspicuous as possible. This did nothing to diminish our growing friendship.

Often, he would tutor me about the high-tension section and its various wings and equipments but this came in such simple terms and without any formal situations that this knowledge came to be part of my knowledge stack without my even realizing it.

He was my guru about a host of things and for that I am thankful to him. I did not dare to say thanks at that time to his face, for he would have become bashful in the face of such formality and maybe would have had second thoughts about tutoring me afterwards. But today, I believe thanks are overdue and I use this opportunity to convey this.

Over a period, we would talk about many things – books, family, our likes and dislikes, religion, things which made us happy, things which hurt us – in fact, everything under the sun. In so many ways we were so different yet there were some common threads. Similar things hurt us, we celebrated many common situations. Maybe this was what forged the bond.

His wife had a tough time because of his willingness to help people in any situation. His availability and presence at home were completely uncertain resulting in making it difficult for her to plan anything. It was exasperating for her, I am sure, and unplanned visitors to his home were eyed with suspicion.

Rightly so!

For a majority of them would come with a request that Rafi would not deny and often this would take him away from his wife even when she had planned something together with him.

I have been witness to one such incident. One of my colleagues had an engagement a week later and could not convince anyone to take his place in office for a work that had to be done during the night. As a last resort he requested Rafi to help out. This request was made at his home while we were having tea.

Rafi immediately agreed but his wife, who was keeping a sharp ear on the conversation, objected. She reminded him that his niece was getting engaged at their home on that day, and as host, he was required to be there. Rafi simply disregarded her protests saying he could not refuse someone who was in need of assistance. In any case, she was more than capable of handling the guests at home.

This was so uncomfortable for me that I hurriedly finished my tea and was off! I could not be a witness to Bhabhi’s wrath!

I don’t know any other person who would do this.

A few years later we were both transferred to the high tension section. While I was new to this area, Rafi was one of the pillars of this area. I always knew I could count on him to help me in sticky situations. I would not have to ask for help. It would be given without asking.

One facet of his came to light during this period. He, like me, simply loved films! We were always on the lookout for films from all over the world. The film societies in Calcutta fulfilled this need admirably but our thirst was insatiable.

It became a secret pact to share notes since we were members of different film clubs and since the same films would mostly be circulated in the different clubs, we would often tip each other about the ones to miss and not to miss. During one two-week period we watched thirty six films being screened during a film festival in Calcutta! Often three or more in a day!

Late in life he went for Haj (Muslim Pilgrimage), like any pious Muslim. But Rafi was a thinking religious man. He took all the good that Islam had to offer in spirit and ignored the embellishments that often accompany any religion.

The only symbolism that he allowed himself was that he grew a beard on becoming a Haji. Later, we would often discuss religion and the impression of a purely religious person was clear. A person with the purity of thought! That is probably what religions were designed to create?

We were together at many places – at parties, at official functions, at work sites, at funerals and I always enjoyed his company. With time, as I moved to Delhi, the communication became infrequent but the bond remained strong. I was blessed to walk a part of the road with him.

For this man had a quality so rare, so bright that it set him apart from us mortals. The people who came in contact with him instinctively knew that this was a person different from the rest of us. The quality remained bright and strong even in the face of extremely difficult situations, of the stress of politics and jealousy, in spite of the lack of recognition of his professional capability.

After long years, I now realize what it was.

It was goodness of heart, pure, unadulterated goodness!

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