Fiction: Watcher

Lakshmi Kannan

Lakshmi Kannan

                              
    Calcutta in the late 1970s.  
   The telephone took on a sinister form for Padma. However much she distracted herself by supervising her small sons for school, or instructing her house help, her legs dragged her near the phone that sat, ominously silent. 
   Raghuraman had promised to call her as often as he could from a remote area near Manipur, where he was conducting an official raid for the Ministry of Health to track down the illegal opium poppy cultivators. He had the Enforcement Branch with armed police personnel in plain clothes with him.  
   The zonal wing of his Central Government office of Drugs Control was placed on high alert. They were to respond to Raghuraman’s messages immediately, no matter what time of the day or night.   
   Before leaving, Raghu introduced Padma to the Watcher, appointed by the police to protect her and their sons. He was tall, thin, and utterly unassuming. 
   ‘Namashkar’ he said, hands folded respectfully. To her boys he said, ‘Bhalo?  Go and play,’ sending them out of the room. He spoke to Padma in a mixture of Bangla and Hindi with a Bengali accent. 
   ‘Madam, I’ll be walking behind you, keeping a distance of at least 50 meters between us. Please don’t look back frequently to check, or you’ll raise suspicion. t.  I will be there even if you can’t see me at times, so don’t worry.’ He folded his hands again, and was gone in a trice . 
   ‘Remember what he said, Paddu? If you must check, be very discreet. Try to look at something else sideways, or may be check your footwear, and then look back only for a fleeting second. Just trust him. He has a very good reputation as a Watcher,’ warned Raghu. ‘Don’t tell our children about him.’ 
    ‘O no, Raghu, I won’t, she assured. 
   He held her hands. ‘Paddu, everything will be alright. Don’t worry.’ 
    The more he warned, the more nervous it made her. O God, couldn’t Raghu look for some other job? 
   ‘Raghu, why is this important man from the police man dressed so shabbily, in baggy pyjamas?’
   ‘That’s precisely why!’ he replied. ‘So that people mistake him for a beggar, a drifter, or a thief. It’s to throw people off the scent.’  
  ‘If you’re in trouble, will he inform me?’ she asked, a sick feeling gripping her at the pit of her stomach. 
   ‘Of course! Not directly, though. You’ll hear from my office’.       
***   

    Padma had brief moments of peace whenever their sons were at school. Her trips to the university entailed changing a mini bus at one point. The Watcher would expertly change buses whenever she did.  Padma would wait for him after alighting from her bus, and pretend to look for another bus. What an ordeal. One half of her was relieved that Raghu’s term in Calcutta was getting over, and he would soon leave this zonal office to join his Central Head Office in Delhi. Which meant no more raids or vigilance, but more of administration. He may send other officers from regional zones for this kind of raid. Their two sons would be transitioning to a different school in Delhi.  Only…only…she was yet to receive her official  letter, relieving her of her position in Calcutta, thanks to slow paperwork.  She desperately wanted to upgrade her status as an Associate Professor before leaving for Delhi. In her early thirties, she wasn’t getting any younger. The biological clock was ticking.  
*** 

   On a Sunday afternoon, the Watcher came home to appraise her of the situation.  The children were out, playing football. 
  ‘What’s your name?’ she asked, when she served him tea and snacks.   
   He smiled, shaking his head sideways. ‘Madam, it’s better that you don’t know my name,’ he said, calmly sipping his tea.  
   Oh, just as well, thought Padma, smiling back. 
   ‘Thanks so much, bhaiya. Because of you, I get some courage to go about my work and look after the kids.’
   ‘Madam, I’ll do anything to help Dr. Sahib and you. I feel so sorry for the uncertainty you’re already going through, because you’ll have to leave for Delhi soon.’
   ‘Ah…did Dr. Sahib talk to you about this?’ she asked.
   ‘Oh no! It’s forbidden to talk about personal matters. I follow the strict orders from the police.’
   ‘Then who…?’
   ‘I just know, Madam. Now, you’re waiting for the results of your interview at NEHU (North Eastern Hill University) at Shillong, aren’t you?’ 
   Somebody from Raghu’s office must’ve told this man.                                                                             
   The Watcher’s question triggered off unpleasant memories of the interview. She had intensely disliked the way some members of the Selection Committee (SC) in NEHU asked her sexist questions like, ‘How can we consider you for this post  when your husband will soon be transferred from Calcutta to his Head Office in Delhi?’
   ‘Sir, both of us have thought about it. In case I’m fortunate enough to get an appointment, I’ll stay here in Shillong with my son,’  she had replied, unconvincingly. 
   ‘Stay here with your son? What about your other son? You’ve two sons’, countered another guy, looking smug about the unwanted homework he had done on her personal background. Padma seethed with suppressed anger. ‘It’s none of your  business!’’, she wanted to retort, but ingested the question as one of the many faced by married women who work. And the unmarried women? They were asked with a smirk, ‘No plan to get married? Your age is…Your family must be anxious to see you settled. When that happens, I suppose you’ll leave the job?’ again, with another smirk.  Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. Would the guy pose such personal questions  to a male candidate? 
   Mustering some patience, Padma had replied that her parents had very kindly offered to look after her younger son. The men smiled and exchanged glances. 
  The entire interview called for Anger Management. But now, she was angry with Raghuraman. Why did he divulge these details to the Watcher? It’s her private life. 
   ‘Would you like some more tea?’ she asked him, with a forced smile. ‘Perhaps someone from my husband’s office told you about my NEHU interview?’  
   ‘Oh no Madam! I repeat that I’ve strict orders not to talk to anyone. I’ve a double   loyalty -  to Dr. Saheb, his family, and to the police. I’m honest in my work,’ he said, abruptly getting up and moving toward the door.  
   ‘I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean to imply…’
   He cut her short by saying, ‘Never mind Madam. Congratulations. You’ll soon hear from NEHU that you’re appointed as Associate Professor. In fact, you’re the  only one who is appointed,’ he said. 
   Padma looked at him aghast, as he hurried out of the house. She gathered her thoughts and sat down for a moment. What a wild ‘prediction’ by the Watcher. After those infuriatingly cynical, totally un-professional questions about her personal life by the SC, why would they appoint her over all those male candidates with stay-at-home wives willing to accompany them to Alaska even, if need be? Is this man just a gossipy sleuth in the guise of a Watcher? Let me wait. If the appointment letter doesn’t come, I’ll tell him, ‘Stick to your police watching, my good man. You can’t bluff your way through my  professional matters.’ 
***

   Raghuraman called around midnight. ‘Mission successful,’ he said, sounding more relieved than triumphant. ‘We caught the culprits. The smoke from a hill- top gave them away. Don’t worry. I’ve the armed police personnel in plain clothes. Like our Watcher, some of them could also be mistaken for ordinary people on the streets. Listen Paddu. Don’t send the boys for football practice. Wait till I return.’ ’
   ‘Okay. Raghu, just a minute Raghu, don’t hang up. Did you tell the Watcher I went to Shillong for an interview in NEHU?’ 
   ‘What! Why would I tell him, of all the people? He is  not very educated, you know. Has just passed out of school. What’s the connection? I must go now.’
   ‘All right. Take care.’
   ‘I will. Don’t worry.’     
***    

   Raghu called the next day.  
   ‘I’ll first go to my office, but will come home earlier than usual because I’ve to sit with the Watcher for a debriefing.’
   ‘Fine. He’s a clever man. Changed buses effortlessly whenever I change.’
   ‘Good. He has gone through a rigorous training with the police.’  
   Padma set to work, arranging for snacks and tea for them. She felt very grateful for the way the man had quietly taken care of her and their children.    
                                                        ***
   Padma also returned home earlier than usual to serve tea to the two men. She  freshened up and was about to have a cup of tea when the doorbell rang. It was the Watcher. 
   ‘Namashkar Madam. Sorry I’m a bit early. My bus came and I jumped into it. I’ll wait for Dr. Saheb.’ 
   ‘It’s a pleasure. Please take a seat,’ said Padma, serving him an iced sherbet along with water. ‘I’ll get some tea for you.’
   ‘No, no, please. I’ll wait for Dr. Saheb.’
   ‘Actually, I was going to have tea when I heard your bell,’ she smiled. ‘Thanks so much for all your help.’
   ‘Arre nah, nah’ he said. ‘It’s my duty!’ She noted the way his face, innocent as a child’s,  sat over his adult body incongruously. 
   ‘Today, it’s my turn to congratulate you,’ said Padma. ‘My husband told me the mission is accomplished,’ said Padma, giving him tea with biscuits.  
   ‘I feel bad having tea before Dr. Sahib,’  he said, shyly. 
   ‘Doesn’t matter. He’ll be here any moment,’ said Padma and sat down.  He sipped his tea and cleared his throat once before saying, ‘Madam, you’ll also get a call for an Interview from Vishva- Bharati University, very soon.’
   ‘Who told you I’ve applied there?’ she retorted. 
   ‘Nobody. Your only hope is only from Central Universities, because the others won’t take any non-Bengali,’ he said. ‘I know how rigidly prejudiced they are, even though I’m also Bengali,’ he added, with a wry smile.  
   ‘Well, I don’t expect a call from them. It has been quite some time ago since I applied. Besides, I’ve to go to Delhi.’ 
   ‘You’ll definitely get a call Madam. You’ll also work in a very good place in Delhi. But wouldn’t it be wonderful if you’re offered good positions by two Central Universities? It’ll boost your prospects.’
   Padma restrained herself, recalling how offended he was the last time she joked about Raghu informing him about her interviews.     
   ‘Are you an astrologer?’ she asked, opting for a more harmless question.  
   He laughed aloud.  Again, she noted his guileless face. ‘Nah Madam. For that, you need to read a palm, isn’t it?’ 
   ‘Then how can you be so sure that I’ll get a call from Visva Bharati university?’
   ‘You’ll not only get a call, you’ll also be selected,’ he said, looking so happy for her that it silenced her. She was about to thank him for his good wishes when Raghuraman came in. 
   The Watcher got up and touched his feet. ‘Namashkar, Dr. Saheb.’
   ‘Namashkar, my dear fellow. Please sit,’ said Raghu, patting him on the shoulder.
   ‘Sir, sorry I’m having tea before you. Madam insisted.’
   ‘Good! Have another cup. I got delayed because of calls from our Head Office. Everything is sorted out now,’ said Raghu, opening his briefcase. Padma quickly cleared the coffee table of all the things, and placed them on a side table. 
   ‘I’ll get fresh tea for both of you,’ she said and went to the kitchen. 
   She could hear them talking softly. She carried a tray with special snacks and sweets along with a big pot of tea covered with a snug tea-cozy and left the room. 
   Visva-Bharati! What next. Oxford or Cambridge?! This man sounds so confident that she began to wonder if he was some big hoax. The doorbell rang. Must be the boys, she thought, waiting for their footfalls. There was total silence.   
   The doorbell rang. The boys trooped in. She asked them to wait in their room quietly. The cook will bring them tea with snacks.     
 The doorbell rang again. 
  ‘I’ll take it Padma,’ Raghu called out, as if he didn’t want her in the living room.
   ‘Fine,’ she said, and went in. She caught a glimpse of Raghu and the Watcher talking in a low tone while noting things on paper. 
   Padma felt restless. Let me have a bath, she thought and went to the washroom. When she came out, she saw Raguraman sitting on the bed.  
   ‘Debriefing over?’ she asked. 
   ‘It’s over. This came for you,’ he said, giving her a registered letter with NEHU written on the cover.
   Padma sat beside him and opened the envelope. 
   ‘Dear Dr. Padma Raghuraman
   The Academic Council is pleased to accept the recommendation of the Selection Committee to offer you the post of an Associate Professor in the Department of English, North Eastern Hill University. 
   You will be based in our office in Shillong, Meghalaya, and would also be required to help with the administration of the teaching programs in our other units in Nagaland, Arunachal Pradesh and Mizoram.  
   Should you prefer to stay on the campus, please check for an accommodation that is available.  
   Kindly let us know of your acceptance as soon as possible.’
   Yours sincerely
   Signed/
 Raghuraman put his arm around her shoulders. 
‘Well done, Padma,’ he smiled, tightening his grip. 
‘Oh my God, this is such a surprise after…’
‘After what?’ he asked. 
‘Never mind. I’ll tell you later.’
‘There’s another letter for you,’ he said, handing her a registered letter. 
It was a call for an interview from Visva- Bharati University at Santiniketan. 
   ‘O Raghu. I…I just don’t know what to do,’ said Padma. ‘What the point in going to Visva-Bharati when we’re  headed for Delhi?’
   ‘Please go for this interview, Padma. I’ll also come with the boys. This is our one chance to visit the hallowed place Santiniketan, before I leave for Delhi. ’ 
    ‘All of you will come with me?’
   “Yes! This opium- poppy cultivation has been too much of a tension for  all of us. Let’s take a break,’ he said. 
   Padma smiled. ‘Won’t people laugh at me, when they see I’ve brought my entire  family for an interview?’
   ‘They’ll never get to know. I’ll take care not to be visible. I’ll find an  accommodation that’s available on payment.’ 
***                                               

   Leaving the father and sons to romp around the campus, Padma set off for her interview. The hall was already swarming with the hopefuls. There was only one post for a permanent vacancy, while the other was for a three-month leave vacancy.        ‘Have they started calling the candidates?’ she asked the man sitting next to her. 
   ‘Not yet,’ he replied curtly, his jaw set in a forbidding way. Padma stole a sidelong glance at him and wondered if they had met before somewhere. He looked so hostile. She collected her file covers and dissertation, and moved over to another seat, ostensibly to sit directly under a fan. From where she sat, she caught the man, still glowering at her. Padma turned to look at the others waiting for their turn. Goodness! She couldn’t see a single woman. That made her a ‘token’ female. I don’t have a shadow of a chance, she thought.  Why not walk away instead of facing intimidating questions? Should she join NEHU as an Associate Professor (AP) and bide her time until she gets a proper appointment in Delhi? How can she expect her parents to come to Delhi all the way from Bangalore to look after her kids, given their health issues?  
   ‘Hello. Are you from here?’ asked the  man sitting next to her. At least he had the courtesy to smile. 
   ‘Good morning. Yes, I’m from Calcutta,’ she said.  
   ‘I’m from Indore. Have you been living in Calcutta for long?’ he said chattily. 
   ‘For a few years now.’ 
   ‘I see. I’m the sole bread-winner for  my family. My wife doesn’t work. If I don’t get this job, I just don’t know how I’ll manage.’
   Padma felt a rush of sympathy for the man. ‘You’ll surely get this job. Please don’t have negative thoughts.’
   ‘I’m not so sure. These days women are so ambitious, they take away the jobs that should go to us who are from single-income families.’ 
   Here was a pleasant guy, she had thought. He too resents her presence. Furtively, she looked around for another seat. The room was packed. An assistant in his office uniform called out:
   ‘Dr. Padma Raghuraman.’ 
   She collected her file covers and dissertation and got up, her heart thumping wildly. 
   The man who sat in the center of this nine-member Selection Committee smiled at her and asked her to take a seat. 
   ‘Thank you, Sir,’ she said and sat down. Uneasily, she remembered the talk in the hall by a few people about a “formidable professor and former Vice Chancellor”.    ‘He is very learned but cynical,’ said someone. Could it be this man? He looked clever and oh-so-suave. 
   ‘Tell us why should we give this job to you?’ he asked, point blank.
   Somewhat nonplussed,  Padma smiled, tongue-tied.  
   ‘Please, Dr. Raghuraman. Just give us one good reason,’ said the senior man, his eyes glinting mischievously through his glasses. He looked so foxy. 
   ‘Sir, I really cannot think of any one reason,’ she blurted out.
   ‘Oh. So, there are several?’ he asked, his smile curling in sarcasm. 
   ‘Sir, teaching in a place like Visva-Bharati would be the chance of a lifetime. Unlike any other workplace, it carries the unique vision of Gurudev Rabindranath Tagore.’ 
   Just then, another member of the SC rescued her by diverting the attention to her paper publications.  
   ‘Dr. Raghuraman, you’ve published many papers beyond the subject of your Ph.D. The papers would work nicely for a book, with some structuring and editing. Have you ever thought of it? ,’ he asked, pleasantly. 
   ‘Yes Sir. I’ve been thinking about shaping them into a book,’ she said.  
   ‘And when you do that, what’ll be your first challenge?’ asked another member, a woman. 
   ‘Language, Madam,’ said Padma.
   ‘Pardon me?’
   ‘Language will pose a subtle, elusive challenge. I’ve to somehow break free of the academic language one uses in a dissertation or research paper, and adapt a fresh kind of communication to make it readable.’
   ‘Quite so, quite so,’ nodded that formidable man in the center. ‘May I see your dissertation?’ 
   ‘Certainly Sir,’ said Padma. She stood up and handed it over to him. He flipped through the pages and read a few passages. 
   ‘There is much potential,’ he declared, passing the dissertation on to other members. 
   ‘Sir?’
   ‘I meant, there are already signs of your language taking off to communicate in a different style. So, you should seriously work on a book. I suggest that you make an effort to unlearn this kind of language and think differently.  It’s difficult, of course, but worth the trouble,’ he remarked. Although it sounded like an encouraging guidance, Padma wasn’t sure if it wasn’t one of his pranks. 
   At this point, the other members nodded and agreed with him deferentially.
   There was a brief silence. Padma waited. Now, they’re going to ask about my husband’s posting, my children’s school, and when would I leave for Delhi. 
   ‘Thank you, Dr. Raghuraman. We wish you the best, also for your book,’ said the fox, returning her dissertation. 
   She collected her things, bowed to all of them, said, ‘Thanks very much Sir, Madam,’ and walked out, perspiring profusely.    
   As soon as she came out, a few men surrounded her, buzzing with questions. 
   ‘Excuse me. I’m in a rush,’ she said and went out of the hall.  
                                                               ***
   ‘Did you go around the place, all of you?’ Padma asked, over lunch. ‘Isn’t it a lovely campus, canopied with lush chhatim trees?’ 
   The boys nodded happily. 
   ‘But I wish we had the time to go to Sriniketan too,’ said Raghu. ‘They got tired. It was hot and humid.’
   After lunch, they packed their things for the train. 
    The phone rang. Raghuraman took the call. ‘It’s you! Any problem?’ he asked. He talked for a few minutes, glancing every now and then at Padma. He cupped his hand over the speaker to say ‘It’s the Watcher. He wants to talk to you.’
   ‘To me?’
   Padma took the phone and said, ‘Hello Bhaiya. Hope you are doing fine.’
   ‘Namashkar Madam. I’m well. Congratulations!’
   ‘For what?’
   ‘You’ve got the post of an AP from Visva-Bharati University too. You were the only woman candidate.’
   ‘What! The Interview just got over and we’re preparing to leave.’
   ‘You’ll get a letter soon, Madam,’ he said, disconnecting the phone.  
   Padma shared his ‘prediction’ about Visva- Bharati university, adding in jest ‘Your Watcher seems to be the main appointing authority! Like he is the Selection Committee and the Academic Council rolled into one.’ 
   ‘Jokes apart, whatever he said has come out true so far. Imagine, this humble-looking fellow who didn’t join college because his parents couldn’t afford the fee’, said Raghu. ‘So, he joined the police force on a very low-level.’
   ‘Raghu, he seems to be gifted with some incredibly intuitive foresight. What is most endearing is the way he carries it all very lightly. He is so humble. Shares whatever he can ‘see’ shyly. He has a lot of regard for you.’
    ‘For you as well,’ said Raghu. ‘Hope you get this post in Visva-Bharati too, Paddu,’  he said.  
   ‘There’s not a shadow of a chance.  I am totally blank about what I’ll do in Delhi. Didn’t get a call for an interview from any of the colleges I applied to,’ she said.   
   ‘And when the calls come from Delhi, you’ll have more bargaining power for your position and salary, with two AP appointments tucked under you belt,’ he whispered back.  
   ‘So, Raghu, you too believe with the Watcher’s that I’ll get this job? This time, I’ve a grave doubt. I was the only ‘token’ woman candidate among all the  men.’ 
  ‘Times are changing Padma, however slowly.’
   ‘Then there was this formidable former VC, a terror it seems.’
   ‘Still, the Watcher said you’ll get it.’
***

    They got into their four-seater in a coach that also had two-seater coupes. Raghuraman chatted with his boys, talked to them about the importance of adjusting to their new schools in Delhi, and the futility of comparing them to their present school Don Bosco. After a while, rocked by the rhythmic movement of the train, all four of them  dozed off on their seats.  
   Suddenly, they heard a lot of commotion outside their closed door. 
   ‘O God, what could it be?’ said Padma.  
   ‘Let me see.’
   ‘No Raghu, it’s too risky. Looks like people are fighting with each other.’ 
   ‘Come on Paddu, how can skulk behind a closed door when there is so much commotion?’
   Raghu had already reached the door and slid it open. Padma could see plenty of heads, men and women, talking to each other rapidly, in Bangla. They were not exactly fighting.   
   Two men were expertly unscrewing the laminated panels on the sides of the corridor and throwing them out of the open door of the speeding train. From inside, they pulled out packets of something that they gave to the women, who stuffed them inside sacks. The men moved over to the next panel, when Raghu said, ‘Stop! You shouldn’t throw railway property,’ he admonished. 
   Suddenly, the door of the coupe compartment next to them opened. The ‘formidable’ professor came out.  
   ‘Sir, please go back to your compartment. It’s not safe,’ he told Raghu. ‘All these people are armed with knives. I’ll explain later,’ he said sternly. He stood, waiting for Raghu to get inside. 
   ‘But Sir, look. These men are dismantling railway property and throwing them out. I was objecting to that,’ explained Raghu. 
   ‘Sir, I know what they’re going. But for now,  please return to your compartment. It’s not safe for your family,’ said the professor and then  turned to  the marauding people. He talked to them pleasantly in Bangla at which they nodded and smiled at him.  What the hell is happening?
   Raghu gently drew Padma inside and bolted the door. He comforted the children who were looked very scared. 
   Padma tried to quieten her heart. 
   ‘Raghu, that man was the ‘formidable professor’ I talked about, who was in the Selection Committee. All the candidates were warning each other about his terrible reputation.’
   ‘Really? Some professor! Instead of joining me in preventing them from their destructive work, he seemed to connive with them, talking smoothly in Bengali,’  he fumed.  
   ‘We’ll soon reach Howrah Junction,’ Padma assured the boys.  
    Everything seemed to be quiet in the corridor. They sat in silence for some time, looking out of the windows. A few small towns were appearing in-between green fields. 
   ‘I think we’re approaching Howrah,’ said the younger boy, looking relieved. 

   The train pulled up. On the platform, Raghu looked for a porter who could carry the two boxes they had brought along. The professor also alighted from the compartment. He approached Raghu straightaway.   
   ‘Dr. Raghuraman,  I asked you to go back to your compartment because the scene was really risky for you and your family.’
   ‘Thanks a lot, Professor. I really appreciate. But they shouldn’t be destroying railway property like that!’
   ‘Dr. Raghuraman, their target was not the railway property, but the sacks of rice they had smuggled to hide inside.’
   ‘Smuggled!’
   ‘Well, what do you expect the poor people to do with a government like this? They can’t eat their own produce.  Let the CPI return to power. Only then, things will change. Take care,’ he said and swiftly sped past him without a second glance at Padma. 
***  

   ‘Just look at him!’ said Padma in the taxi. ‘He didn’t even acknowledge my presence although he could clearly see me and addressed you as “Dr. Raghuraman”  without even an introduction,’ she said, furious about the entire episode.   
   ‘Very strange indeed!’ he agreed.  ‘Now we know which party he is affiliated to. CPI. Still, how can he endorse plundering railway property, and smuggling to boot?’ said Raghuraman. 
   ‘With a man like that leading the Selection Committee, how can I even hope to get a job offer? This time, the Watcher’s prediction won’t come true. But it wouldn’t be his fault at all.’
                                                        ***         
   Back in Calcutta, Padma was nagged by her usual worries. The day for Raghuraman to leave for Delhi was getting closer. No watcher to trail her any more. Yet she felt his presence behind her, following her in his shabby pyjamas and crumpled shirt, with an ungainly gait. She clicked open the lock of her front door at the same time when the postman came to give her two letters. 
   Padma sat down under the fan, aware of her heart thudding. She opened the letter from IIT- Delhi first. It was a call for an interview. Should I open the letter from Visva- Bharati or postpone the disappointment? Why care, now that your destination is Delhi? She wrestled with her contrary emotions and opened the envelope. 
   ‘Dear Dr. Padma Raguraman 
   Visva Bharati University is pleased to offer you the post of an Asst Professor in English. 
   We do hope you will enrich the academic life in our campus and work towards a holistic scholarly climate that we always strive for. We also hope you will take an active interest in our activities in the areas of theatre, the arts, music and dance. 
          
     Signed/
     Professor….

   Padma was on cloud nine. Must I go to Delhi? She thought. Can a college in Delhi come anywhere near the range and scope of Visva-Bharati? She felt a sharp twinge of regret at having to give up this post for an unknown professional future in Delhi. Like Raghu says, now she has more bargaining power than before, with offers of AP from two prestigious universities. Let me try my luck with IIT-Delhi. 
   The phone rang. 
   It was the Watcher. ‘Namaste Madam. When are you leaving for Delhi, for the IIT-Delhi Interview?’ She had grown to like his Bangla mixed with broken Hindi.
    ‘Bhaiya, how did you know I got a call?’
   There was a gentle laughter at the other end.
   ‘Please book your tickets, Madam. You’ll surely get this job.’
   ‘Now that you say so, Bhaiya, I may get it. You’re the purest well-wisher I’ve ever had in my life.’
   ‘It’s my bhagya Madam, to serve you and Dr. Saheb. Please take care. I…I am…so sorry that both of you went through this shocking episode on your train from Santiniketan.’
   Padma sat down on the chair to steady herself. This was too much. 
   ‘Madam? 
   ‘Yes, yes. It’s all your genuine good wishes that saved Dr. Saheb. Otherwise, he was arguing with armed people for destroying railway property.’
   ‘Dr. Saheb is one of the most honest govt officers I’ve seen. But there is no point in confronting these people. They are also victims of a system and it’s a political issue. Okay Madam. Please don’t tell anyone other than Dr. Sahib that I called.’
***                                   

  Padma sailed through the interview in IIT- Delhi. She had also prepared well in advance for the gauntlet  they  may throw down at her. 
   ‘We are not just the English Department. It’s Humanities & Social Sciences in IIT. You need to interact with the faculty, put your heads together to evolve teaching methods that would be contemporary and relevant to the students in IIT.  We don’t have to stress the obvious fact that our students are among the best in the country.’
   ‘Yes Sir, I am well aware of the scene. There is nothing I would like better, which is why I applied for IIT, and am willing to give up my appointments as Associate Professor in NEHU and Visva- Bharati University. Interacting with a faculty in a multi-disciplinary structure is something I loved during my stint as a Research Fellow with a Grant-in-Aid from ASRC, Hyderabad.’
   ‘The ASRC? Tell us something more about it.’
   ‘Sure, Sir. As you probably know, the ASRC is perhaps  the biggest center in South Asia for American Studies. Although my research was toward Ph.D. in literature on the  American Nobel Laureate Saul Bellow, I learnt a lot by attending the lectures in history, sociology, political science and economics by some of the most distinguished professors they had  recruited. I absorbed the rudiments of these disciplines that taught me to take a rounded look at a certain period in history. I was grateful to get a chance to pay back to ASRC when they invited me for a term as a Scholar-in-Residence.’ 
      She got the job in IIT-D. Both the Watcher and Raghuraman were right about her ‘bargaining position’  in having two appointments as AP under her belt.  
***

   Every celebration has an anti-climax. Raghuraman shot down all her plans to give the Watcher a quiet treat at  home. She wanted to give gifts to him and his family.  
   ‘It’s just not done! He is not supposed to visit homes. Instead, I’m going to recommend him strongly for a promotion and write letters of appreciation to both the department of Narcotics and the police force. This man is an absolute asset. Let’s pray for his prosperity and safety,’ said the proper officer who goes by the book.  
   ‘I’ll certainly pray for him and his loved ones,’ said Padma. ‘Does the Narcotics department and the police personnel know that he has these special gifts for clairvoyance, an incredible extra sensory perception (ESP) that alerts him like a sixth sense about what may happen? He is over qualified for the humble job of a Watcher,’ said Padma. 
   ‘Ha! Clairvoyance? ESP? Sixth Sense? Rest assured the government wouldn’t even have heard of these words, my dear Paddu.’  
   Padma’s next question at the tip of her tongue went unvoiced. 
Dear Watcher, with these priceless gifts, can’t you predict what is the best for your own life? Must you wear those shabby pyjamas all your life?  
***

Opium poppy: Even though poppy cultivation was under the Republic, the widespread corruption and lack of enforcement allowed an illicit economy to thrive. Opium poppy is grown in many places including the hill areas of Manipur where poor villagers cultivate them for extra income. Now under the control of the Narcotics Commission, the punishment for offenders could be rigorous imprisonment which may extend to 10 years and a fine of Rs. One Lac.

No comments :

Post a Comment

We welcome your comments related to the article and the topic being discussed. We expect the comments to be courteous, and respectful of the author and other commenters. Setu reserves the right to moderate, remove or reject comments that contain foul language, insult, hatred, personal information or indicate bad intention. The views expressed in comments reflect those of the commenter, not the official views of the Setu editorial board. рдк्рд░рдХाрд╢िрдд рд░рдЪрдиा рд╕े рд╕рдо्рдмंрдзिрдд рд╢ाрд▓ीрди рд╕рдо्рд╡ाрдж рдХा рд╕्рд╡ाрдЧрдд рд╣ै।