Sudesh felt tired. He
also had a nagging headache. It had been a long, trying and fruitless week. He
looked at his watch. It was nearly eight in the evening.
“Oh Shit!” he
thought. Now he was going to be late. And Anupama would give him hell or
forgetting. With reason too! She would be dressed up and waiting – for a long
time. He had promised her he would be home by seven so that, for once, they
would be on time for the party. Anyway, it could not be helped now.
Quickly
setting his table in order, he ran downstairs and at the same time called his
driver to have the car ready.
As he got into the
car, he felt a bout of panic. There was no reason to panic, but he felt it
anyway. People, by now, expected him to be late. The drive would take almost
forty five minutes. Time to grab a quick nap; maybe he would feel better. At
the moment he was not feeling up to the party, but that could not be avoided.
He was the host. It was one of the things that he really did not enjoy but it
was expected of him. It would be the same people, the same shitty talk, and the
same “informal” formality. It was not as if the guests were friends, more like
prospective and current clients. Appearances had to be lived up to.
He had a successful
life till now. And he had enjoyed it. At least till a few years ago. Then the
fun had slowly seeped out. He had been more engaged in managing stupid
squabbles than actually doing things. When would people grow up? Petty
politics, jealousy, boot licking and incompetence had to be managed. The
constant fight for pushing ideas that made sense, getting around his boss who
was shit scared of making tough decisions, a constant struggle to get the best
people on board, fighting off recommendations for including nincompoops
favoured by influential people in the teams, going through dreary bureaucratic
approval notes had taken up more time than the actual work. And the actual work
was not done by him anymore – it was done by a handful of people in his team
while the others kept trying to derail the activity, yet hang on. Getting the
fringe and their supporters to lay off the actual “workers” had become his
primary job.
And all this for
what? To increase output of a product that nobody really needed. Had there been
sense in the customers, they would have avoided this product like plague. It
was not needed for living a good life; it actually had a very negative impact
on it. But the advertisers had done a great job and people not only accepted
the product but hankered after it! This made big bucks for the promoters and
some of the huge profits trickled down to the employees in the form of
incentives. He enjoyed the incentives that he received and as he grew in the
organization, he gradually understood that the incentives were only a small
portion of the benefits that some employees received by virtue of their being
in key positions.
There was a
beautifully corrupt system in place. Each person in decision-making had a
separate set of parameters for approving activities. The Chairman, the CEO, the
heads of Finance, Stores, Procurement and Project Execution would all receive a
cutback from the activity. And this cutback accounted for nearly thirty per
cent of the actual cost. Add the exorbitant profits of the promoters- nearly
seventy percent -the price in the market was up by over 100%. There was money
all around! And the customers were lapping up the products.
No one was asking the
question “Do we really need it? Is the price right?”. The product was playing
truant with the appetites of the kids, using plastics as if there was no
tomorrow, using water, fuel without control. The State Pollution Control Board
was happy with the data provided and never bothered to check as long as the
data came in on time even if it was fudged. No one was questioning the effect
of the product on the health of the children – the target customers, because
there were too many similar products in the market to pin down the ill effects
on any one in particular. The Doctors, the hospitals, the Government were all
having good time.
But he had been
shocked to hear the discussion of a couple of the company’s lawyers a few days
ago. They were discussing the likely impact of the legal suit that was due for
hearing. One of them was sounding worried but the other was flippant about it.
Becoming interested, he asked them about it. He was told that there was no need
to worry! These suits had always been around and usually there were too many
loose ends in the findings to actually implicate the company. The Judiciary and
the Government were also not very inclined to take the information seriously.
They were discussing this with him openly without any hint of suspicion about
his interest. Then it hit him. They were not suspicious because they considered
him a co-conspirator! But it had set him thinking.
He had arrived at his
home and fortunately the first of his guests had also arrived. That saved him
from his wife’s wrath. Quickly apologizing for being late he headed to his
bedroom for a shower and a change. In five minutes he was with his guests but
the headache refused to go away. More guests arrived and the rounds of drinks
seemed never ending. The food was served and the party was finally over well
past midnight.
Lying in bed, Anupama
finally asked him “Is everything OK? You don’t look very well!” He admitted to
her that there was a lot on his mind but did not elaborate. Anu knew him well
enough not to push. He would tell her when he was ready.
Next morning he woke
up with the same throbbing headache. He did not have a good night. He had been
in a state of half wakefulness throughout. There were many thoughts running
through his head but they were too disjointed to make any sense. Perhaps a cup
of tea would make things better.
Anu came in with the
tea and as she sat with him, her look was concerned. He understood that she
wanted to ask him but was holding herself back. With his first sip he began. He
told her how he felt about his job, about the conversation with the lawyers,
about his feeling of doing nothing worthwhile in life. She listened patiently
and then started asking small questions. He knew these would help clear his
thoughts too. Finally she asked him “Should you not take a holiday for a few
days to get away from it all? The change might make you feel better. It has
been a long time since we had a real holiday.”
Sudesh shook his
head. “It’s not about stress or a break. It’s about the worth of what I do. A
holiday is not going to make this feeling go away.”
“Not
sure. Let me try to work out things in my head before I decide.”
It was a weekend so
there was no pressure to hurry. The idea of quitting was there but he was not
sure of his assets and finances. And what to do next; he wanted it to be
something worthwhile, but was not sure exactly what. People always told him he
could have the pick of jobs. But he knew it was not so easy when you were at a
senior position. And even if he did manage to get another job, would it be
substantially different from his present one? Unlikely! Anyway, first things
first! He spent a better part of the day trying to get a handle on his
financial worth. How much was enough even if he did not work for the rest of
his days? That was the most difficult question to answer. Next he tried to make
a balance sheet of his assets and liabilities, both current and for the future.
Finally he arrived at a reasonable answer to his first question. He could
afford to quit with a reasonably small amount of risk.
The next question
proved more difficult to answer. What would he do to make himself worthwhile?
He pondered alone and with Anu and many ideas were discussed. By the end of the
day they had not arrived at an acceptable result. The next day was the same. No
real plan was in place, but the decision to quit had been made.
Monday morning, he
felt renewed. He had his resignation letter ready. He breezed into his office,
wishing Good Mornings, left right and centre. Some of his colleagues and
subordinates were surprised. Usually he would be in a bad temper even in the
mornings with a thousand things nagging at the back if his mind. The formality
of handing over his resignation done, he spent the rest of the days in the organization
trying his best to coach people informally and sharing thoughts with them. His
exit interview was not notable on account of his refusing to discuss the reason
for leaving. This left the HR man in a quandary for he would not have anything
of value to report. Anyway, “personal reasons” would have to do. In a couple of
months it was time to finally go out of the doors one last time. He did not
wish it to be anything but quiet and it was generally so. He did not feel any
real attachment to the office now.
Next morning he got
up to a leisurely breakfast, went through the newspaper, end to end. He still
had not found an answer to the question “What next?” He had considered becoming
an activist and filing a suit against his own organization for starters. He had
even discussed it with a few friends. But he had ultimately decided against it.
God knows, he was in the best position to fight his own organization but
friends had convinced him that it would not be a great idea. There would be
counter-suits, money would be required, there would be breach of trust motions
and it might take years by the time anything happened provided he still had the
strength and the money to sustain it. But the argument which finally convinced
him not to do this was that it would be reactive. There was no reason to
believe that his beliefs would be shared by others and he would become a pawn
in the game of legal arguments and counter arguments; better to do something
positive – of that he was sure. The question still was – what?
With his present
unemployment there were many reactions. His children felt vulnerable even after
he tried to convince them that their needs were accounted for. His wife enjoyed
his company initially but was now gently prodding him to do something about it,
and with good reason! Some neighbours were talking, some relatives were
speculating, some friends were worried – but he was not affected. He knew he
had made the right decision but was waiting to discover where he wanted to go
next. He had lots of time to think but he was nowhere close to the answer.
As time went by he
settled into a routine existence. One day was not different from the other. It
had become boring and monotonous. The lazy days were getting a grip on him and
he was beginning to find comfort in the laziness. The signs of decay were
setting in. Anu realized it before he did. But what was to be done? He was not
old enough to do nothing and while away his time. The hobbies that he had
developed had become boring. However his mind was still active. He was drawn
towards the discussions on climate change. There were many theories and
proposed solutions. While most of them were excellent in themselves, he felt
that they were symptomatic cures and did not address the root cause. He would
often argue with himself about the pros and cons of each solution. But no real
implementable idea caught his fancy.
One day he decided to
effect a change in his routine. He decided to visit his village. It had been
nearly two decades since he had been there. Maybe the change would be good. So
the bags were packed and he was off with Anu. He remembered the place as if it
was yesterday. An old family retainer had been looking after things as best as
he could and he had often requested him to visit – without much success. This
would make him happy too.
As he got down at the
station after the overnight journey, he was surprised by the change. The place
which had a back of beyond feeling earlier was bustling with humanity. There were
people and more people all around. Everyone seemed in a hurry. There were dingy
looking shops everywhere an increase of many times since he remembered it. The
place looked dirty and full of dust and one had to be careful on the road to
avoid being hit by motorcycles and carts. There were signboards advertising all
sorts of coaching classes (both in terrible Hindi and even worse English).
There were tractor and motorcycle fumes threatening to choke you.
It was usual to walk
the mile and a half to our village, but he thought it would be prudent to take
a rickshaw. All along the route there was a clack-clack of the stone crushing
mills and a haze of stone dust which were likely to kill you if you inhaled
them long enough. The fresh air that Sudesh remembered was long gone. The one
thing that remained constant was the state of the road which remained as bad as
ever!
As they reached the
village they found that the dirt track down to their house had been replaced by
a concrete “road”. The word road would be a misnomer since it was a series of
concrete slabs laid one after the other, without proper joining and the edges
falling off sharply. The concrete was also coming off even though the work was
quite recent. They reached the house and the rest of the day was spent having
it cleaned enough to become liveable. Proper cleaning would take another few
days. Fortunately there was electricity in the house though the light would
flicker of its own accord owing to the large scale power theft and patchwork
repairs. Evenings could be spent in front of the house talking to some
villagers.
They planned to stay
there for about a week. The next day he went for a walk in the fields with the
caretaker who pointed out the various plots which belonged to his family and
the types of crop and the seasons that were best for them. At the end of the
day Sudesh had only the vaguest of ideas about what he had been taught. Too
much, too early; and he was not really interested. After all he would be back
in the city in a week. The simple lunch was still as delicious as he remembered
it. Or was it? There were subtle differences. The “Dal” was not as tasty as he
remembered it. The vegetable was almost as good and so was the rice.
In the afternoon, he
went for a walk in the village with Shankar, his childhood friend. There were
more “pucca” houses now. But the place looked filthy. There was a lot of noise
now as compared to the silence earlier. This was primarily due to a mill which
had come up and also due to the many pumps that had been installed for
irrigation and also for drinking water. He was told that the mill provided for
most of the employment in and around the village. The workers were mainly women
of the village. The owner was a affluent family of the village. They also owned
most of the pumps and also most of the land by now – he was informed in an
undertone. There was something wrong. He could not pin it down exactly but he
had the feeling that all was not well.
A hail brought him to
reality. It was Ramdhari, his childhood friend. He smiled and went up to hug
him. His escort, however, stood respectfully behind with his hands folded in a
Namaste. This was odd! He was also a childhood friend. Ramdhari took me to his
home and soon hot tea and pakoras were served. Ramdhari looked prosperous. His
house seemed larger than he remembered though it was decorated in a crude sort
of way. Shankar however stood outside waiting for him. Sudesh asked Ramdhari to
call him, but he seemed evasive. Sudesh let the matter pass. Maybe it was one
of the petty disputes which often cropped up in villages.
A short while later,
he bade Ramdhari farewell and started off for his home. Shankar again joined
him. He seemed quieter and withdrawn. He enquired about the sudden change in
mood, but Shankar kept quiet. He was to find out the reason later.
The next few days
passed without incident. He had decided to have solar panels installed on the
terrace of his house and this proved to be quite difficult. There were not many
vendors willing to take up this work for only one house. Finally, Sudesh got
hold of one and the process of installation started. In the meantime he got his
old bicycle repaired and oiled so that it was easier to make the trip to the
local “kasba” – this had become almost a daily activity. Shankar often
accompanied him and would help renew old acquaintances.
Gradually, a picture
of how the village had transformed was becoming clearer. Apparently, Ramdhari
had become a big shot and owned most of the industries around the place. He
owned the stone crushers (all illegal), the mill, majority of irrigation pumps
and tractors, and was the de-facto owner of a large tracts of the land. He was
also the local strongman and a feared man for he had a small army of paid
criminals to look after his interests. He charged exorbitant amounts for use of
his pumps and tractors and also for the oil which came from the mills. He also
used strong arm tactics to discourage competition. No one dared challenge his
authority.
Most of the mining
leases had been garnered by him and the surrounding hills had been stripped
bare for the stone chips which were in high demand. All this was illegally done
but piles of cash ensured that the officials looked the other way. He was the
unchallenged king. He never put forward his candidature for elections but you
could be sure that the winning candidate was his stooge. He paid his employees
much lower than the minimum wages prescribed to ensure that they lived in
poverty. With land going fast and limited means to earn enough for a decent life,
the young men had left mainly to go to Surat for employment in the chemical
factories which employed masses in terrible corrosive conditions but paid
enough to attract the poor and desperate. That was the thing that had struck me
earlier. There were very few young men in the village. It was mostly women,
children and old people who stayed there with a few sick young men. The young
men were sick because of continued exposure to the corrosive chemicals of
Surat. The expected working life of a chemical factory worker was about ten
years after which they would be too sick to be of any real use. Same was true
for the people who worked in the stone crushers near the village. The fine
stone dust spread and slowly but surely killed off the people and also the land
nearby.
An old problem of the
village was the subdivision of land with passing generations. This kept
decreasing the effective area left for agriculture. The reduced crop yield, the
tight control of the access to the market by ruffians like Ramdhari, the lack
of proper education for the children, the sordid state of law enforcement, the
inter caste squabbles all were leading to death of the village economy. This
death led to other deaths – that of the urban economy owing to the huge influx
of the rural population to the cities creating pressure on land, water,
employment, transport, law and order and many other things.
Sudesh could, of
course, make a donation of money to help a few. He had the means but he had
spent long years in the corporate world to realize that this would be an
exercise in futility. The dole would be soon gone and the money would draw the
wrong kind of attention. If he was perceived as a threat, his existence would
be in danger. The rural world was not very different from the corporate world
in this respect, maybe more dangerous, if anything.
He thought long about
it. The week that he had planned to spend in the village was long gone. It had
been a couple of months now. His presence was no more a novelty. He had become
a part of the scene though not fully so. He refused to get into the village
politics though Ramdhari tried to rope him in many times. The germ of an idea
was forming in his mind. The picture of the English countryside that he had
visited a while ago became a framework for his dream. The English countryside
was beautiful, green, serene, clean, safe and quiet. But not perfect. There
were mostly aged people living in it. The youngsters had gone off to find
employment in the cities. And it was expensive.
The Indian
countryside could be all this and more. It required avenues to generate income,
access to healthcare, law and order, education. Tall order? Yes! But not
impossible. All it required was a will to implement. Something needed to be
done. He was sure of that. But what? And how? He did not know.
He
had to give more thought to it.
He was sitting in an
armchair in front of his house as was customary after lunch. In the villages,
this is the most common place to relax. There are no drawing rooms or sitting
rooms. The spot in front of the main gate is the most common area for relaxing.
Lunch had been good. All the aches and pains had long disappeared. The sun was
shining. Life was good. His head was nodding. Sudesh don’t know when he dropped
off.
What did villages
have? Land – lots of it. Manpower – dwindling now, but the potential was there.
Clean air and water – dwindling but potentially there. So what could be the
means to tap these resources? The first source for earning would be farming
income. The improvement would come from scientific, mechanized farming using
collective resources. The obvious conclusion was co-operative farming with
large tracts of land, cooperative access to credit and returns, reduction of
risk, access to scientific methods, regular and legal employment for those who
sought it and collective wisdom. The only issue is that of mistrust! So he
decided to keep it on his list but be cautious about the approach.
The second source
could be “Eco-Tourism”. Offer real comfortable but rustic holidays to city folk
since the demand already existed and expose them to a better life. Create
infrastructure to provide good accommodation, activities for engagement, clean
air and water. One potential hurdle had to be crossed- transport and safety.
Solution – rope in someone like Ramdhari as a partner initially till the
traffic was large enough to warrant administration action. Do-able!
The mindset change
would not come from lectures. It could only come from real life demonstration.
It has been seen in the past that lawbreakers and Dons transform into
legitimate businessmen once they see it is easier, safer and almost equally
remunerative. But one has to tread cautiously and be patient. So he set about
it. He now knew what he wanted to do. He had an aim and a plan. His house was
large with an advantage of location; right at the end of the village with vast
expanse of fields behind it. The closest house was about a hundred meters away.
So it provided a reasonable amount of privacy.
The first thing he
started on was to prepare a kitchen garden in the plot within the boundary. All
sorts of vegetables were to be grown and he employed a part time
worker–caretaker for it on a regular salary. He sold off a few plots on the
outskirts of his holding to fund the enterprise. The money went to carrying out
renovations to the house to make it guest friendly. Things like a modern
kitchen, modern washrooms, some comfortable beds, a neat coat of paint, higher
boundary walls, better gates, a small reception desk. The solar panels were
supplemented in number and storage batteries were provided to have reasonable
amount of lighting power even in the night.
All this work did not
escape the attention of Ramdhari. At the opportune time, Sudesh shared the plan
with him. The deal was simple. He could either invest in it now (which he would
not, Sudesh knew) or have an option to invest within two years as a partner for
up to twenty percent at a predetermined price. In return, he had to provide his
Scorpio (his prized possession) for ferrying the potential guests to and from
the station at a fixed cost to the guest house and for sightseeing (at a fee
for the guests). He also had to ensure that the guests did not face any local
trouble during their stay there. He looked disinterested but Sudesh knew he had
him. For good measure, he also dropped hints that business would pick up only
if the first guests felt comfortable with the host and Ramdhari was not one to
make city folks feel at ease. So Sudesh was indispensable. The deal took a mere
week to finalize and the first step of his plan was underway.
The next step was
more subtle. Ramdhari’s grand children were beginning school and Sudesh offered
to help them in their education. But he had to extend this to the other kids of
the village as well. This would not be easy given the caste and class tensions
in the village.
So he started
visiting Ramdhari more often. From time to time he would show him the college
album and plant the idea that it was necessary for a student to be able to live
with other students of different castes to get admitted to these colleges. The
smartly dressed young men in suits and then with swanky cars made an impression
on him. Though initially he feigned disinterest, Sudesh knew that everyone,
including gangsters, wanted a better life for their children. So, in time, he
started asking him lots of questions about life in these colleges; and the
prospects after education. Sudesh slowly planted the idea of caste integration
for a better life for his grand children without once saying so. Ramdhari, one
day suggested including other children in the coaching sessions. Sudesh was
overjoyed but only displayed indifference. Now Ramdhari was working on his
behalf – collecting kids for these one hour classes.
Sudesh did not wish
to throw the kids in the deep end and lose them. So he started with group
recitation of poetry, going on to the meanings, analysis and then competition
between students. The going was slow but sure. The children hardly spent any
other time on what he taught. So it had to be the one hour that he got.
Gradually he would have more time, and would add more subjects-English, Maths,
Science. The teaching would have to be non conventional, mainly verbal and
participative but he was sure it would be good and long lasting.
He would also use
Ramdhari to accept and propagate the idea of cooperative farming. But that
would have to wait for some time. Too much, too soon would spoil the plan.
He felt a tingling
warm sensation on the back of his hand. He woke with a jerk. Anu was laughing
and holding a hot cup of tea which she had used to wake him up by holding it
against the back of his hand. She handed him his cup and sat down.
“What
were you dreaming of? You were smiling in your sleep.” she asked.
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