Brrooom! Brrooom!

Year 2000.

I was free for almost a year. I had accepted it but for my family, it was difficult to accept that an academically excellent boy like me would fail in the Higher Secondary Board Examination, and especially after scoring a first-class in Grade 10 Board Exams. I knew I would fail. As soon as I took admission in the Science stream, I realized that it wasn't my cup of tea. When the board results were declared, my father came from his office carrying a box of sweets as he was confident of my result. That box remained unopened for many days. "We cannot bear more for your education now. You have to work your way out for it now," very humbly my father told me. I planned to reappear for the exams. So, I was left with a lot of free time. 

Now, I no more dreamt of becoming a doctor. Those days, software courses were in demand, and I was more interested in them, and especially in graphic and animation. On my bicycle, I went to many esteemed institutes to find information about those courses, but their fees were too much.

While preparing for my exams, I decided to take up a part-time job. Even getting a part-time job seemed difficult then. Dhiraj, a friend from my chawl, wanted to get some information about C+ language, and as I had the cycle, we both went to a private computer institute on Bajirao Road. The lady who was giving the information seemed nice. After asking about different courses and their fees, I dared to ask her, "Do you have any vacancy for any post?" She said, "We are looking for an office boy. But let me talk to the manager." She went into the manager's cabin, and then I was called inside. 

"So, you are looking for a job. We want a person who would take care of this office, especially a person who would work as a phone attendant. Are you okay with this?" He asked. 

"I don't mind. But what would be the salary?" I asked hesitantly. 

"See, you don't have any experience of office attendant. I am sure this is your first job. I cannot afford to give you more. You will be paid Rs. 500 per month."

Rs. 500 was too less, and from my facial expressions, he understood that I needed more. 

"Look, I am paying your Rs. 500 per month for the part-time job, and on top of that, I will teach you all the Computer software courses, so that, by the end of one and a half year, you would know almost everything."

"It seemed a great deal," I thought to myself. The entire package of a computer software course cost around fifteen thousand rupees, and if I worked there, I was not supposed to pay anything for my learning. 

"Oh ... I would like to work here then." I was happy. 

"You can come tomorrow at 11 am. Tomorrow will be your first day of work. Tanushree Ma'am will instruct you about your work." He said. 

That night, I could not sleep. I was constantly thinking about my career. 

"If not a doctor, I can be a software engineer, and my parents would still be proud of me."

 "What would they teach me first? I even don't know how to switch on a computer." 

"I think animation is a booming industry. Hollywood needs Indian talents to make movies like Jurassic Park and Titanic. I will make a good animator." 

Hundreds of thoughts were floating in my mind. From the window, I could see hundreds of stars blinking in the sky. Each one of them was shining bright, staring at my happy face. 

The next day, I reached the institute. Tanushree told me all the extension numbers. I was told that I would work there as a receptionist. 

"If any inquiry comes for a new course, press 11. If anyone wants to talk to the manager sir, press 12," and there were seven to eight more extensions which were difficult to remember. 

 "Can I write all these numbers and keep it with me?" I asked. 

Tanushree pointed at her table. Under the glass on the table, there was a page with all the extensions and their number. "Why did she waste so much of mine and her time?" I asked myself. 

After attending some calls and successfully diverting them to the desired extension numbers, I was offered tea. I was also asked to explore the different rooms of the institute. I realized that it was a two-floored building. On the first floor, there was the main office, the reception area, and the manager's cabin, and two computer rooms. On the second floor, there was a conference hall, a huge computer lab, and washrooms. 

It was afternoon by then. There wasn't any work for me. I got a call from the manager and was asked to meet him in his cabin. 

"How is your first day, Amit? I hope you are not getting bored." He said while typing something on the desktop in front of him. 

"It's good, sir. A bit boring as it is the first day."  I replied.

"What are you doing now?" He asked. 

"Nothing sir. Sitting at the reception desk." 

"Oh. Not many students come in the afternoon. Most of the batches are the evening batches. So, till the students come, I want you to go upstairs, and sweep the conference hall. Also, clean the windows."

"What? I am told that I would be a receptionist, a phone attendant. I am not here to sweep". I thought to myself while looking at the floor, head down.

"So, start working fast. The students would come in some hours." He commanded. 

I came out of his cabin, looked at the broom kept in the corner. I felt as if that broom was after me since ages and I was running away from it, panting and sweating. 

I took the broom, went into the conference room, and started sweeping the floor. I am being honest, I did not like it. The entire night I spent dreaming about working as a software engineer, and my dreams should not be swept by this broom. Very half-heartedly, I swept the floor and came down. 

I was still not feeling good. 

I was called again in the cabin. "Now, you still have time, I think. Go and clean the bathroom now."

"That's too much, sir. I was not told that I have to work as a sweeper or a bathroom cleaner. If told, I would have not come here at all. Please, sir, don't ask me to do it." I wanted to say these words, but could not say anything. My voice got chocked.

I went to the bathroom, unbuttoned my sleeves to take the bucket, and for a moment, I paused when I looked into the mirror. I looked at my face. It didn't have anything special. It was like hundreds of faces I used to see every day in our chawl, in our slum, who would go to some tea shop or a garage to work. Hundreds of faces that have given up their dreams to financially help their starving families. Hundreds of faces of my age that have left schools at an early age. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. 

Without wasting any time, I went to the cabin, and said, "Sir, I want to go home."

"Home? But why? Your time is not up yet."

"No, sir. I want to go home."

Without giving him any explanation, I left the building. I took my bicycle from the parking and pedalled it as hard as I could through Laxmi Road traffic. The wind gushing through my hair cooled the beads of perspiration. The heat that I experience in my face when I was listening to him in the cabin was now cooled down. 

On my way, the only sentence that kept on going in my mind was what he had said to me, "Your time is not up yet."

(Author: Amit Kharat)