IT was the squeakiest, shrillest, squeal of a sound, that kept its constant bombing into my ears, and I realized it was getting on my nerves! Workmen were working on my building, and on top of the constant pounding, this was too much for me. I left laptop and chair, and walked determinedly up the stairs to my terrace where I knew these unholy sounds were coming from, and found the source.
It was a workman! I spoke to the contractor later, “Can you get rid of that fellow on my terrace!” I said. “Why?” he asked me, looking quite surprised. “Have you heard his voice?” I whispered, “It is spine chilling!” “Sir,” said the contractor, “How do you like our work?” “Excellent!” I said, “Look I’m not complaining about your work..” “And the speed it’s going?” “Very good!” I said, “But…” “That same man is responsible for all that you were just happy about!” said the contractor, “He is the best supervisor I have, and I have put him here, so you can get the best work I can offer!” I walked down to my study, chastened.
I thought of all the fat men and women working at offices and factories, ribbed by others for their size, but producing the best effort. Plump children in class, who were not the apple of the teacher’s eye, because many ‘teacher’s pets’ are those with good looks and perfect manners. And yet, that oversized boy, was waiting for someone to look beyond the weight he could not lose because of some medical problem or birth defect!
A few years ago, someone in my neighbourhood, complained to me, about the noise the scooter of the milkman made when it entered our complex. I cornered the milkman next morning and found it was true, the bike did make quite a racket, “Change your scooter!” I told the man. “I can’t sir!” “Why?” I asked, “You’re making enough money!” “Wife has cancer, and every paisa is going there, I have no money even to repair the bike!” I allowed him to go with tears in my eyes. Later, I called the person who complained and related the conversation, “Bob,” he said, “That sound from now on, will remind me, how easily we judge something without going deeper!”
Again, it was the squeakiest, shrillest, squeal of a sound, that kept its constant bombing in my ears! Workmen were working on my building. I left laptop and chair, and walked up the stairs to my terrace where I knew those sounds were coming from, and found the source. It was the workman! He looked at me apprehensively, “Thank you for your excellent work!” I whispered with a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes..!
