Miss Das Quotes in Sharmaji
In the corridor he bumped into Gupta smoking a cigarette. ‘What Gupta,’ he said, ‘you left me alone to face her.’
‘What to do?’ said Gupta. ‘She has already told me off twice. She thinks it is still Indiraji’s raj. Cigarette?’
‘Might as well,’ said Sharma, and took one. ‘So, how are things with you?’
Gupta lit his cigarette. ‘All right, so so.’ He gave a bashful smile. ‘My parents are searching for a girl for me. I have to get married before December. The astrologer has said that the two years after December will be very inauspicious for marriage.’
‘Are you looking for a working girl, or what?’
‘Yes. We think that might be preferable. How can we manage on my salary? But they bring less dowry. And my sister has to be married off next month. It is very difficult.’
Sharma sighed and sat. He passed his hand over his brow. ‘It is so hot, he said. ‘How do you expect us to work in these power cuts, Miss Das?’
‘What to do, Sharmaji? That is how life is in Delhi. Would you like a glass of cold water?’
‘Certainly.’ He gulped down the water. ‘What advantages there are to being an officer! You have flasks of cold water in your room. We poor workers have to go to the canteen to drink water. And when we go there and someone sees that we are not at our workplace, we are accused of shirking work.’ He returned the glass. ‘Thank you, madam.’
‘You’re welcome.’
‘They say I do not work. They say people should not mix with me. I, who was one of the first people to join the company twenty-five years ago. If I did not work, why did the company give me a special award for excellent work twenty years ago? You look surprised. You do not know. Of course, they will not tell you. They know you are intelligent. They know you will ask, what has happened to this man? You wish to know madam, yes?’
With great dignity he sailed out of the room. A minute later he returned. ‘Madam,’ he said with a slight shrug, ‘I was wondering, you wouldn’t be interested in reading some of my poetry would you?’
‘I would very much like to.’
Sharma smiled. He nodded. ‘I will get them tomorrow. Madam, I wrote these poems many, many years ago. Since then I have written nothing, nothing at all. Still . . . they are very philosophical, very deep, very complex. Tomorrow, at 9 a.m. I will share them with you.’
She replied, ‘In the lunch break.’
He frowned. ‘There will be another power cut in the afternoon. How can I read my poetry to you, drenched in sweat?’ He considered.
She smiled.
He capitulated. ‘If you insist, then, the lunch break.’
Miss Das Quotes in Sharmaji
In the corridor he bumped into Gupta smoking a cigarette. ‘What Gupta,’ he said, ‘you left me alone to face her.’
‘What to do?’ said Gupta. ‘She has already told me off twice. She thinks it is still Indiraji’s raj. Cigarette?’
‘Might as well,’ said Sharma, and took one. ‘So, how are things with you?’
Gupta lit his cigarette. ‘All right, so so.’ He gave a bashful smile. ‘My parents are searching for a girl for me. I have to get married before December. The astrologer has said that the two years after December will be very inauspicious for marriage.’
‘Are you looking for a working girl, or what?’
‘Yes. We think that might be preferable. How can we manage on my salary? But they bring less dowry. And my sister has to be married off next month. It is very difficult.’
Sharma sighed and sat. He passed his hand over his brow. ‘It is so hot, he said. ‘How do you expect us to work in these power cuts, Miss Das?’
‘What to do, Sharmaji? That is how life is in Delhi. Would you like a glass of cold water?’
‘Certainly.’ He gulped down the water. ‘What advantages there are to being an officer! You have flasks of cold water in your room. We poor workers have to go to the canteen to drink water. And when we go there and someone sees that we are not at our workplace, we are accused of shirking work.’ He returned the glass. ‘Thank you, madam.’
‘You’re welcome.’
‘They say I do not work. They say people should not mix with me. I, who was one of the first people to join the company twenty-five years ago. If I did not work, why did the company give me a special award for excellent work twenty years ago? You look surprised. You do not know. Of course, they will not tell you. They know you are intelligent. They know you will ask, what has happened to this man? You wish to know madam, yes?’
With great dignity he sailed out of the room. A minute later he returned. ‘Madam,’ he said with a slight shrug, ‘I was wondering, you wouldn’t be interested in reading some of my poetry would you?’
‘I would very much like to.’
Sharma smiled. He nodded. ‘I will get them tomorrow. Madam, I wrote these poems many, many years ago. Since then I have written nothing, nothing at all. Still . . . they are very philosophical, very deep, very complex. Tomorrow, at 9 a.m. I will share them with you.’
She replied, ‘In the lunch break.’
He frowned. ‘There will be another power cut in the afternoon. How can I read my poetry to you, drenched in sweat?’ He considered.
She smiled.
He capitulated. ‘If you insist, then, the lunch break.’
