by Pawan Mishra
Jay opened the letter silently but very eagerly:
To
Mr. Jay Tripathi
Unit Head
Dearest Sir:
We would like to bring an important matter to your kind notice. A great many sacrifices have gone into making this firm an enviably great place to work. However, there has been a recent development that has a big potential to jeopardize the culture of the firm.
We would like to draw your attention to the highly disquieting demeanor that Mr. Coinman has been exhibiting. It has been causing a grave concern to everyone at the office, and lately it seems like he has been trying to cook up something against the office. We would request you take appropriate action before it goes on to cause irreparable damage to our firm. An early response to the situation will be greatly appreciated.
Yours sincerely,
The workforce at this unit
(Please refer to the attachment for names and signatures)
19. The Meeting of the Second Kind
Known as a good man and a sincere leader by his staff, Jay preached that attaining more knowledge constantly was central to earning a respectable living. To set a good example, he had resolved to learn at least one significant new thing every month, subsequently noting each in a personal notebook for future reference.
His style had recently made a complete U-turn when he learned that over the thirty-five years of his working life, he had very rarely referred to past notes. He acknowledged that time ran much faster than he’d previously thought, another one of his recent useful learnings, and that such inefficiencies as making notes for later were only going to make life even shorter. As a result, he duly stopped taking notes for the future and began to address everything on the spot instead.
On receiving the complaint, Jay first met secretly with Coinman’s supervisor, who gave an oblivious shrug.
“Then why did you sign the complaint?” Jay asked.
“Because everyone had already signed it before it came for my signature. Did I have any other option?” Coinman’s boss asked.
“Well, you could have taken some time to understand what was happening.”
“If I hadn’t signed it then, I would’ve lost my place in the association.”
“So there is an association now?”
“No, I am just referring to the group on the first floor that periodically correlates and connects for working together smoothly.”
“Why would discussing an issue about your own associate with them cause a strain in your relationship with them?”
“I don’t know. It was more like a feeling in my bones.”
“All right, then. I need a separate discussion with you on this topic—can you have an hour blocked with me later this week?”
“I will do that. May I ask out of curiosity if that would be a general meeting or of the first kind?”
“This is the first kind, happening right here, right now. Based on our discussion, I have decided to upgrade it to a second kind.”
“I am very sorry for my lapse,” Coinman’s manager said. “Is there any way I can get the second kind converted into yet another first kind?”
“Unfortunately, no. The process must be followed.”
“I will do as you say, sir.”
“Also, it’s urgent that I meet with Coinman. Can you have him see me at the earliest possible time today?”
“I will ask him to come by. Would you need me in the discussion?”
“I don’t think so.”
“What is a good time?”
“Anytime is a good time, as long as it works for him. My day is very light today,” Jay said, concluding the meeting.
Late in the day, on his entry to Jay’s office, Coinman couldn’t help noticing dirt on the green plastic lid that covered the glass of water on his table. This was one thing Coinman had never understood since his early childhood. It seemed that these plastic lids were never washed, which defeated the very purpose of having them in the first place.
Seeing him completely lost in the glass of water, Jay asked him, “Do you want me to order some water for you?”
“What? Oh, no, I am fine. I am sorry for the lapse.”
Jay stood up to shake hands with him. “No problem at all. That happens to me all the time. Once, during a certain class in high school, my eyes were so constantly stuck on a stain on the ceiling formed by rainwater leakage that I failed to pay attention for periods after periods. The beautiful patch certainly deserved to be a painting. There is indeed an immense amount of beauty around us, in the most ordinary things, that we fail to notice most of the time. We pay a high price to go to painting exhibitions, but fail to notice the weathered wall of our open public offices; some of the best sketches I have ever witnessed have been on those walls. In short, I don’t blame you for getting a momentary fixation on that glass. Come, have a seat, now, please.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I don’t think we have ever had an opportunity to meet in person earlier.”
“Actually, we have met once, sir.”
“Have we? Can you please jog my memory?”
“It was when I joined this firm. You asked me if I was doing well.”
“Oh, yes, yes…I remember now. Time flies.”
Coinman laughed, as if Jay had cracked a joke.
“So.” Jay came to the point. “I want to speak to you about a few things. This may take a few minutes—if that’s OK with you?”
“You need not ask, sir.” Coinman coughed slightly, clearing his throat. “My time is all yours.”
“Tell me briefly about how things are with you. What’s working well and what may not be working adequately.”
“I am enjoying work. It’s been hectic, but that’s always good. Everyone’s very supportive. So that’s working very well. I can’t think of anything that’s not working well.” As he said this, Coinman’s left hand impatiently slipped into his pocket, without his permission, despite the strict instructions from him to defer gratification during the meeting with Jay.
“Tell me something about the support you are receiving from your colleagues.”
“They are very kind with their help when I need it.”
“Has anyone ever complained to you about something?”
“Not really. What do you mean by that, though?”
“Have you been aware of any issues that your colleagues have been facing?”
“Well, no, none that I know of.”
“You may want to think more about it.” Jay’s manner indicated his seriousness about something.
“Maybe the elevator—it takes forever to go from the first floor to the second floor—but almost has a free fall the other way around.”
Jay ran out of patience at that. Briskly he went on. “Coinman, I will be candid with you. I have received reports that your conduct has not been appropriate lately. Now I need to understand from you what that means.”
“I haven’t done anything that’s outside the office decorum.”
“Coinman, I have had a formal complaint from your colleagues on the first floor that you have not been carrying yourself professionally. They have said that they are finding it very challenging to continue their jobs.”
“Do you have any details of my unprofessional behavior?”
“Actually, I don’t. I have spoken to your manager briefly and couldn’t get more details. I wanted to speak to you before I speak with other people who have complained.”
“May I know who has complained?”
“Almost everyone from the first floor.”
“If there was at all a need for a complaint, it should have come from me.” Coinman was growing angry.
“Please explain.”
“They conspired to attack me and threw me on the ground while trying to rob me of my coins.”
“When was that?”
“Two days ago.”
“Before you get into more details, may I ask why you have been going in circles until now? You could
have told me this right at the beginning. And why would you not complain about such an outrageous event?”
“I did not want my colleagues to get into trouble.”
“May I ask why?”
“Yes, sir. Individuals at times become helpless against a group’s combined stupor. I am sure no one was at a fault individually. I didn’t think twice about it—I don’t blame anyone. I have no concerns.”
“It’s much bigger than your problem, Coinman. What they have done is beyond my imagination. I can surely expect a third kind on this.”
“This was a rare incident, I am sure, that will never be repeated by them,” Coinman said humbly. “I can talk to them and let them know that I won’t press any charges. Maybe they would take back their complaint? It would be very sad if this matter reaches ABC’s ears.”
“We will follow the right process and ensure the right course is taken,” Jay said. “At this point I have what I need from you. I won’t keep you longer now—I will call you again if I need more information. I truly appreciate your flexibility.”
“Anytime, sir,” Coinman said as he clumsily prepared to leave, almost falling to the ground, as his right leg had entangled itself in an empty chair.
So much has been happening in the office right under my nose, Jay thought after Coinman had left. Ratiram is definitely going straight to ABC. The real question is—who else besides him?
20. The Involuntary Compromise
All the progress in science can’t be used to build a smell receptor as capable as the one that a true leader possesses—to smell trouble or just something fishy. As a bear can smell food from several miles away, a true leader can smell a problem that’s wrapped in several layers of delusion. Jay belonged to that class. Also, even though he was a very humble man, he was hardly about conducting a group hug session when he needed to have a tough dialogue with his staff. The meeting with Coinman had left him thinking that there was much more to the affair than met the eye. So he had individual discussions with five randomly chosen members of his staff from the first floor.
These discussions helped him crystallize the reality; all five of them were united in their accounts. Try as Jay might to approach each discussion from different angles, the responses were abnormally homogeneous. It was as if he heard one voice, over and over again, repeating the same story, with no variations at all.
A widespread meticulous consistency causes a bigger suspicion than the most obvious inconsistency does, Jay thought as he walked to the parking garage after a long day, through a pouring rain, feeling completely exhausted. He was so lost in thought that he realized he was trying to open someone else’s car only when his car key didn’t work.
Tossing in his bed that night, he pondered possible interpretations of his observations; what had in fact really happened? He knew that only Coinman had spoken the truth. A man in pain is more likely to take refuge in telling the truth. So where did that leave him? Draining a coffeepot over the course of thinking it through, he made up his mind that a quick fix was immediately needed to relieve the tension among his staff. He would have time to think about a more holistic solution after people relaxed, after their initial fears were calmed and they felt a bit of solace.
“Often a baby step takes you much farther than you’d imagine.” His father’s advice came back to him often, and was as useful now as it had ever been.
The next day he called Coinman’s supervisor first, and pursued the matter until he understood that the real cause behind the coin incident was the tyranny of the jingling coins.
Jay then called Coinman to his office and came to the point right away, skipping over small talk.
“Coinman,” he said, “it looks like I have a fair understanding of the matter. I wanted to set an expectation that there is no easy way out of this. It may take a while before I am able to make my final recommendations. The good news is, I have a quick fix till then. All I need is your cooperation in enforcing it.”
“I will do anything that’s in my control,” Coinman said.
“Thank you for your cooperation. Just as I expected.” Jay went on, “May I ask that you not bring any coins in the office for a short period of time until I have a better idea of how to proceed?”
Coinman’s chin began to move vigorously. He wanted to react quickly, but the emotional rush had temporarily blocked his access to words. He gazed on the table between them in anger.
“And if you get coins in change from a purchase,” Jay persisted, “like buying lunch at the office, please feel free to leave those coins as a tip at the counter. I’ll reimburse you in paper currency later, once every month.”
The chin very aptly signaled Coinman’s misery. “That’s an off-the-wall compromise to ask!” he said. “If it has come to intolerance to personal habits in the workplace, then how are the others able to get away scot-free? Are you also going to tell Daya to stop digging gold in his nose? Or are you going to send Ratiram for voice therapy to treat his loud voice? Hukum’s entire body smells of nicotine—are you planning to ask him to quit smoking, or are you planning to install air fresheners on the first floor? Panna is a swearing machine—how are you going to stop him?”
Jay had been thinking over those very things.
“Look, Coinman, I completely understand your frustration and I want to assure you of two things: First, the inquiry into the matter will continue to find the next steps in the matter so that nothing like this is conspired against anyone in the future. Second, we will take a holistic look at it. We can’t address everything at once. We need to take things one by one. So while the inquiry is in progress on this matter, it would be in the best interest of the firm to have you drop your coins before entering the office. And I am very positive, given your great track record in the past, that you will comply with the interest of your employer.”
For a moment Coinman’s face looked like a two-year-old’s when he sees his mother embrace another child. It would have taken only a hint of empathy to make him cry; someone to just say, “I am sorry for what happened to you.”
“If leaving my coins at home makes everyone happy, I will do it.” As Coinman said this, his own eyes betrayed him by letting a teardrop fall onto Jay’s table. Jay passed him a paper napkin, got up, and walked behind his chair. He slowly put his right hand on Coinman’s right shoulder to comfort him. “This will pass very soon. I am with you in this difficult time. We need to stay strong to be able to do the right thing.”
Coinman put his hand over Jay’s, in a gesture of appreciation for his support. He couldn’t tell Jay, for reasons that he couldn’t fully understand, that the coins were already outlawed at his house; Jay’s forbidding them at the office had slammed the last door on him.
“I know, Coinman, this is not the best time to talk about it, because you need some private time right now, and I don’t want to get in the way. But I wanted to let you know that, for the sacrifice you are making, I am open to discuss how we can work on some sort of a reward, one-time or enduring, to offset your malaise.”
Coinman glared at him. “If I get this right, are you hinting at financial gains in return for giving up my soul?”
“Don’t get it wrong. Maybe I didn’t word this right. What I meant was…”
Coinman didn’t wait around to find out, but instead sprang up from the chair and left the room before Jay could finish.
21. The Addict’s Dilemma
Hope meets a dead end when the only chance in sight comes to naught. It had taken Coinman several years to fully acclimate to the new coin timetable after Imli had swept the coins from the house. It wasn’t easy for his mind and his hands to adjust to the sanctions at home—but time had eased his desperation, slowly but steadily, and eventually cured him of the agony of his loss. But nothing was more hopeless now than losing his coin rights at the office, too.
To make it worse, this new catastrophe had come at a time when the situation at home was quite out of hand—Imli’s theatrical fever was at its worst. In he
r portrayal of a stranger, she feigned no acquaintance with the members of her family.
One charade inevitably hatches another. To develop her stranger demeanor to perfection, she kept herself disengaged from anything that could slightly indicate an association with the other occupants. To legitimize her stay at the house, she imagined that her house was suddenly populated by four strangers—the only way to perfect a notion of unfamiliarity with her family without having to leave the house. And how could someone allow strangers in her house? Therefore she confronted family members frequently and asked them to leave.
After his discussion with Jay, Coinman had collected all the coins from his drawer before he left the office. He had taken the coins home, hoping to plead mercy from Imli and ask her to allow the coins at home until the situation at work was normal.
But as soon as he entered the house, the coins were detected by Imli’s sonar ears, and like a flash she rushed toward Coinman to grab the coins away from him.
Then she suddenly stopped. She realized her dilemma. I am a stranger!
She instantly dropped herself on the floor to position herself like a street beggar, arrested Coinman by grabbing the crease of his trouser in her left hand, and gestured with her right hand for him to empty his pockets into her hands. Instead Coinman backed away.
“For God’s sake,” he cried aloud, “can you please leave me alone for a few minutes?”
Imli started Rudra Tandava, a vigorous dance expressing the pinnacle of rage, slowly floating up, her fully stretched arms sideways, her palms vibrating passionately. She danced, burning in this anger, for about two minutes.
Then she paused and lurched at Coinman again. “Who might you be?” she demanded. “A wretched lord of cacophony and sheer decibels? Or a ruthless assassin of harmony?”
Before Coinman could answer, she spoke again. “And what’s that in your pocket, causing every cell in my body to flutter? I must unburden you from the mire of the metal!”