My father visited us last evening. Me and Appu were happy to see him. It had been a long time. Just that he mentioned that my brothers’ turnover had crossed 8 crores and that my sister was receiving rent from her two houses apart from a very good salary from the government job that she holds. All in all, meaning that compared to them we were like BPL, below poverty line. Theek hai. Its OK. We are alive. We have survived. Should be enough for us.
Later in the night he shared how he was afraid to visit us. Afraid that we might reject him. It is sad. A father scared of visiting his daughter. What is there to say? I did not know I was so scary. Maybe I have grown some horns or a few thorns here and there.
I do not know how long is the walk,
I do not know whether there is any miracle waiting for us at the end,
Or if the end just lies in Nigambodh Ghat,
I do not know whether we are in the right direction,
or whether there is such a thing as right or wrong, light and darkness, truth and lies.
We walk because that is all we can do,
We show up for life every day, every moment because the rest is not in our ambit,
We do the best we can each day,
knowing that our absence will not cause any major upheaval in the universe,
That we are only a very miniscule part of the larger whole,
And hoping that we can contribute in some small way,
to create meaning for at least one life.
Before the final departure.
‘The last call’.
Money and shit. They seem to go hand in hand. Along with dis-respect. We are dealing with the real estate guys and as we go below the surface, we are discovering that their marbled offices house some of the most sophisticated and educated goons of this earth. And we have no idea how to deal with them. They think money can buy anything and anyone. Well almost. So our work and technology is just a prop to help their liasioning agents do a better job with the Airport Authority of India. ‘Land sharks’. I guess our blood will be up for sale soon. Unless we also become goons.
My father always said that ‘making money was not the cleanest or the best of jobs’. We are caught between the banks, the real estate sharks and the sarkar. We definitely need the support of a Higher Power with us right away. As long as land power is greater than ‘information’ and ‘technology’, our country will remain in the grips of goons (whether in the form of real estate developers or politicians).
To create something ‘beautiful’, one has to become ‘unbeautiful’. That is what is happening with us. We have survived but at what a cost. There has been no music, no hobby,no, connecting with my daughter for many years now. It has just been the banks, clients,tenders,GC and now dealing with the real estate guys.
Rajeev is our new accountant and he has a huge mess of ‘unfinished and pending’ work left by his pre-decessor Shiva, to finish. Not a rosy chair for him at all. We are hoping that he will be on target for the audit scheduled in March.
The weekend is here. The weekly rations for the office need to be bought. Appu has her dance class. And I might just get fewer calls than on other days. And that is a huge relief.
More money is always equal to more shit. Wondering how much we would be able to handle.
And If at all.
How does it feel when an ongoing war is over? How does it feel to see the loss, the dead bodies littered all over the battle field, the loss of relationships, of sanity, of self respect? Even if the war has been won? Does the victory matter anymore? or the fact that we have survived? I do not know.
Is there a sense of relief? Maybe. Is there a sense of loss? Definitely. Overwhelmingly (is there such a word?)
What would the survivors of a concentration camp have to say? That they were glad they lived. Or they wished that they had died before seeing the cruelty of man against man? What can we say? That fnally we are not banging our heads against the ‘sarkari wall’. That finally the banks are not after our life. It does not matter where the money is coming from. We could be selling drugs or ourselves. The banks give a damn. The money should come in somehow. Theek hai. Take the money. Then what is this preaching about white and black money? we should just be talking about money.
Shikha and Mehtaab are back. There was a possibility of them running out of money and we requested Silakari of Akar consultants to chip in if required but he flatly refused. It was not his reponsibility to pay for the tickets or the hotel. The ‘smallness of men’. It never ceases to amaze me. I should have been used to it by now but like a die hard optimistic, I continuously keep searching for the basic goodness in men (and women). All the data has been submitted and we have about 60% of the due payment. Of course it will go towards clearing the adhoc limit taken from the bank (where else can it go?)
My laptop got stolen long ago and I have not been able to replace it. But it appears that I may be able to get one out of the term loan sanctioned to us by the bank in the next fortnight. That would be quite a releif. I have been using the PC meant to be a server and it keeps shutting down ( just like me I guess). And it has been tough asking the clients to arrange for a laptop for making presentations in front of AAI (Airport Authority of India).
Exams, rations for the house and office, bills (Ah the bills), plumber, the car repair, payments,clients, the online shop. OK. Deep breath. Tackle one thing at a time.
The weekend is here.
Once again, Thank God for small mercies.
The drinking water cooler has conked off in the office (Kya timing hai). And the meeting with the real estate client has been postponed to this coming monday. Everything is getting postponed including the closing of a project.
We saw some sites for the office. With a lot of filth in front of them, dingy and damp spaces with no parking. Okhla phase-I is not a clean or productive place to be in ( at least for the kind of work we do). Ramesh is back. Dadagiri hai. He is un-removable (if such a term even exists). He had arranged for a replacement @ Rs. 200 per day which is obnoxiously high for daily wages. To top it, he told the boy (who was to come in his place) that he (meaning Ramesh) would pay him. This was even more pre-posterous. Ramesh paying his replacement.
But I guess anything is possible in GC.
Mr. Saraf called from the ‘the bank’. He said that he would keep calling till we paid up. And my response was that he was free to do his job and we were free to do ours. That we were looking for ways and means to regularize the account ( apart from selling drugs or some other nefarious activity) and it would take time. But that is the issue. There is no more ‘time’ from the bank. Sab ‘waqt’ ka chakkar hai. We wish we could use the Einstein theory of relativity and go back or forward in time. The current times are getting unbearable.
Everyone in the office has declared a ‘chutti’ for tommorrow. Abhi chand ka pata nahin, ‘Id’ ka pata nahin lekin chutti to confirmed hai. So we are off tommorrow, Id or no Id. Appu might need to go to school, else we are planning to check whether there are some options for an office space in Greater Noida.
That is supposed to be an outing for us. From the constant stress and strain.
The match is over. For today. And we survived.
It is quite a marathon run.