Monisha and I felt like winning a lottery to find Dhirenbabu. We immediately decided to use him for repairing the electrical fault in our other house where we did not live any more. Certain particular electrical lines in that house were not working and it was important that we got them fixed. I asked him if he would go with me to the house next Saturday. I promised to take him there in my car. Though just 5 kms away people do not want to go there, as it is not on regular bus routes. He said, please inform me in advance so that I can keep myself free on that day. Looking at Dhirenbabu's dress and shoes you wouldn't think he was a very busy electrician but he preferred to be engaged with prior appointment. I agreed to give him the space.
There was a quiet dignity about the man that I liked. He didn't speak much and there was a certain unstated pride in his work, though he didn't seem to possess a lot of tools. In fact I lent him use my drilling machine to make holes on a switch plate that he and I bought from a nearby shop for Mampu's geyser. Dhirenbabu used the drilling machine efficiently and with a sense of possessiveness. Was it the first time he was using a drilling machine? I do not know. He didn't look like a mechanic who has worked in a very professional set up ever.
Dhirenbabu had a weather beaten face with white stubble on his dark sunken cheeks. He didn't smile or frown. He was completely expressionless. Looking at him you would know he had gone through a lot of difficult times in life. But it didn't seem he deserved it.
Dhirenbabu had a weather beaten face with white stubble on his dark sunken cheeks. He didn't smile or frown. He was completely expressionless. Looking at him you would know he had gone through a lot of difficult times in life. But it didn't seem he deserved it.
The country would observe a "Janta Curfew" on Sunday. There was this global pandemic all around and every one was afraid of dying. The prime minister had announced that the country would be locked down for a day on Sunday. And there would be a week long shut down announced by the state government. But for Saturday there was no restrictions on movement. Getting the fault rectified in our Metro Park house was important as the local utility was threatening us with disconnection for non-consumption.
The roads were particularly empty and driving was a breeze that evening. The Covid-19 scare had already hit Calcutta. Monisha and I discussed the logistics for Saturday. I planned to go cycling in the morning and sleep a little after that. So asking Dhirenbabu to come at around 11 am would be fine, we thought.
I phoned him after reaching home. He sounded like a surgeon giving his appointment for a consultation. "So I am not keeping anything for tomorrow morning. Right?" I said yes, that's right. I requested him to come after eating lunch because one never knew how long it might take us there.
Early morning on Saturday I didn't feel like going out cycling. Most of my friends were talking about self lockdown. I chose to not go out cycling. How much of that was out of lethargy and how much out of fear of losing life and how much out of social responsibility I am not sure about. But I didn't go. After breakfast we started discussing about our plans for Metro Park. Monisha didn't seem too confident about going out. I couldn't understand how going to our empty house in our own car could pose any problem to either us or to anyone else. I didn't decide anything because I wasn't sure how Dhirenbabu would react to our cancelling the appointment. I wanted to see how the old man reactsed and then take a call.
The old man rang the bell exactly at 11 am. When I opened the door he was standing there with his small cloth bag full of basic tools and looking totally ready to go. As he stood outside the door I told him, Dhirenbabu you know there is this fear about going out that seems to have gripped every one in the city. They are talking about a contagion. From his expression I knew he knew what was coming and said very quietly yes, so I have heard. I told him do you think it should be prudent for us to go today? Let us postpone it for now. Once this madness subsides we will go again.
I was curious to see how he would react. This was the moment of truth. Would he throw a tantrum and complain about how he lost a day's business for me? I knew he didn't have any other work that he cancelled to come to me. But at the back of my mind I also knew that if he asked for his day's wage - work or no work - I would be ethically bound to pay him that.
Dhirenbabu looked quietly at the floor. His jaws didn't clench. He didn't get angry as I had expected him to be. Quietly he said, okay then. Let us not go. Let me know when you want to go. I live just round the corner. He seemed resigned to his fate as all hard working, honest Indian daily wage earners do. The daily wage is an ephemeral thing for them. It is here today, gone tomorrow. They are not too attached to it.
As he was about to leave, I told him, here Dhirenbabu keep this money with you. It was about a fifth of what he would have earned if he worked that day for me. He seemed a little hesitant. I said, keep it. We will adjust it against your wage when we actually go to Metro Park. He seemed to regain his composure with this explanation. He felt happy. There was a justification for him to take this unearned money.
As he was about to leave, I told him, here Dhirenbabu keep this money with you. It was about a fifth of what he would have earned if he worked that day for me. He seemed a little hesitant. I said, keep it. We will adjust it against your wage when we actually go to Metro Park. He seemed to regain his composure with this explanation. He felt happy. There was a justification for him to take this unearned money.
For all one knows Dhirenbabu might have gone out and blown that money on country liquor that very day. Or he could have settled some old loan with the grocer in his slum. He could also have given it to his wife for her to buy something for his children. Or he could keep for spending in future. I do not know. All I know from that split second's hesitation is he was an honest, hardworking Indian who has not always got the chance to prove his honesty or utilise his hard work.
We have failed the Dhirenbabus as a society.
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