The office
looked very small on the first impression. A room divided in two parts. One had
a cabin for the owner and the other part, which comprised of only three medium
sized square shaped wood tables and four wooden chairs, was allocated to the
employees. Veronica wasn’t impressed with what she saw. It was her first job
and the office didn’t look attractive or lively at all. There were three more
employees sitting at their allocated spaces. Only one table with a typewriter
placed on it and a chair were empty which she presumed would be allocated to
her. She observed that there was no air conditioning in the office, only a
ceiling fan.
Veronica
Gomes never wanted to be a steno typist but since her mother had been the same
for her entire career, it wasn’t a surprise when she decided to start her
career with the same profile. After she had completed her graduation, she was
recommended by one of her relatives to the owner of the office for the job of a
steno typist.
Finally,
after waiting for half an hour, an electronic bell was heard and one of the
other employees told her to go inside to meet the owner.
The first
observation that she made was that the cabin was air conditioned unlike the
employee designated area. The owner was submerged in some papers when he
abruptly looked at Veronica.
“Oh, yeah.
Please have a seat.” He said putting down his round spectacle.
Zubin
Electricwala didn’t seem to be a strict employer at first sight but he was one.
Expecting the best performance from his employees, he was a hard task master.
The fifty- nine -year -old had seen number of employees in his career as a
consultant and he had been fairly disappointed with the new generation of
employees.
“Everyone
wants money. No one is interested in quality and skill.” He would comment to
his club friends.”
Zubin
Electricwala was a law consultant by profession and the sole owner of his law
firm named, “Electricwala and Co”. His main forte was corporate law and labor
laws as advertised. The position for which Veronica was hired was as his Steno
typist. Zubin Electricwala had a lot to say and he would do so in his letters
and papers to his clients. Of course, when involved with his clients on any
particular case, he would make pages after pages of documents all typed on a
typewriter. The year was 1991 and though computers had made a foray in large
corporates but it was far away from the walls of Zubin’s office.
“I hope you
have been trained very well. I have read your bio- Data. The institute where
you have learned the steno work is a very renowned one.”
“Yes, sir. I
have gone through six months of training. I shall give my best.” She replied
hesitantly.
“Well. Good
then. Let’s start for the day.” Zubin clapped his hands and handed over a bunch
of hand written papers.
“Please get
these typed at the earliest. We have to dispatch it by today evening.”
Veronica’s
eyes popped out looking at the volume of papers she was handed. As she took hold of them, “all these today
itself?” she asked.
“Yes. Yes.
We cannot delay furthermore.”
It was
eleven in the morning when Veronica sat down on her chair. The next time when
she got her head up and looked up at the watch was three forty -five in the
afternoon. She had finished her typing and she collected and arranged the
typewritten papers and handed over to Zubin. While Zubin reviewed the papers,
she sat down for lunch on her table. Twenty minutes later, Zubin rang the bell
alarm that signaled that he was calling the typist.
When
Veronica entered the cabin, Zubin handed over the papers back to her. “Make
these corrections as highlighted,” said Zubin and looked back into the documents
on his table. Veronica stood there in silence and looked at the papers. She
observed grammatical corrections with respect to comma, full stop, hyphen,
brackets and a lot more.
“Sir, but I
copied everything as it was written in those hand written pages.”
Zubin
looked up and kept down his spectacles. “I understand that. But it was your job
to check the grammar and everything else with respect to the language and
sentence structuring.”
Veronica
stood there in silence unable to actually understand her job profile. Avoiding a clash on her first day, she nodded
and took the papers out and kept on her table. By then, evening tea had
arrived. She gulped down the tea and then again sat down to re work and re type
the papers.
The day
ended at seven thirty in the evening when the last set was ready. Before moving
out for the day, the papers were packed and kept ready for the post early next
day. While she got up and was ready to leave, she observed that Zubin was still
at his desk inside the cabin. She left without asking anything.
Over the
next few weeks, it became the same routine.
Veronica would type based on hand written notes from Zubin or based on
oral dictation by Zubin. Post this, she would then present it to Zubin. Zubin
would make corrections with respect to grammar, sentence structuring,
vocabulary and other alignments. Subsequent to the changes as suggested, she
would again re-work on those papers.
To her
surprise, one day, when a notice had arrived to a client Zubin had found many
errors in the English and structuring of the contents. He dictated a letter to
Veronica which corrected all the mistakes with respect to English and the
technical content. He then posted the letter along with the notice back to the
authorities requesting them to rectify and resend and informing them that only
after the corrections in the notice would he take the requisite action in
consultation with the client. Veronica was astonished.
Every time
Veronica typed and presented to Zubin, he would find mistakes and correct them
and make her do everything from scratch. Months passed and then two years
passed following the same routine. Veronica by now had been irritated to the
brink of her limits. She couldn’t understand the old man.
Finally,
after completing two and half years with Zubin, on a winter morning of 1993,
she presented her resignation letter.
Zubin
looked at the letter and then looked back at her, “You leaving?” “But why?” he
asked.
She looked
at him silently trying to understand whether he did this on purpose with young
people.
“I have got
an opportunity with a medium sized corporate house. I would like to take that
offer, sir”
Zubin nodded his head. “I will have to search
for one more typist then.”
After
thinking for some time, he signed the resignation letter and looked up at
Veronica, “All the best dear. Hope you make me proud one day.”
Veronica
took the letter back from Zubin unable to understand what he had meant by the
words “ Hope you make me proud one day.”
Shrugging
aside her thoughts, she walked out and then started to arrange everything. Two
weeks later, Veronica finally left from the office one last time relieved that
she wouldn’t have to again come back to that office.
Seven years
later on a misty winter evening of the year 2000, when Veronica Gomes received
her promotion letter of Executive assistant to CFO of a large listed company,
she couldn’t believe it. It had been one fantastic journey for her, she
realized. After she had left Electricwala and Co, Veronica had joined a medium
sized auto spare parts manufacturing company. In that Company, she was
responsible for drafting and typing all the correspondences with the customers
and vendors. Over the next one year, the Company was very happy by her
performance and she was transferred to the Holding Company which was a large
Auto manufacturing Company listed on the Bombay Stock exchange ( BSE). At that
Company, she was responsible for corporate communications and media
communications. Though the world had undergone a change and her work had moved
from a type writer to a computer, but her core strengths that she had learned
remained intact. She read everything in detail, worked impeccably, reviewed her
own work and re-worked on everything. Her final papers would always be her
fifth or sometime the tenth draft. Finally, in 1999 she had joined one of the
largest auto companies in India at that time and was promoted to be executive
assistant to the CFO of the Company responsible for all communication, paper
work and drafting from the CFO’s office.
As she sat
down for a coffee in the plush and luxurious tenth floor office over- looking
the Arabian sea, her thoughts drifted back to her first job. All these years
she had never looked back to her first office. She had never gone to meet Zubin
and neither she had contacted him. She couldn’t have denied that everything she
had become was primarily due to the initial seeds of learning she had done at
Electricwala and Co. She never forgot the learnings from Zubin, “Review
everything number of times until you are completely satisfied,” he had often
said during those years as she recollected. “Re-work everything to the tune of
perfection,” she recollected another favourite phrase of Zubin. Her current
office was just at a distance of fifteen minutes from Electricwala and Co. That
evening as she sipped her black coffee in the luxury of the plush corporate
environment, she decided she would visit Zubin the next day.
Next day,
when she reached the building of Electricwala and Co, nostalgia struck her. It
was the same lift that had taken her to her first job. She observed that the
building didn’t change even after all those years. She reached the third floor
and walked through the passage and looked at the corner room that was the
office of Electricwala and Co. She reached the office door but surprisingly
found a different name on the door. She pushed the door and entered and found
herself inside a plush and well air- Conditioned office where people were glued
to their computers. She looked around the room and found no cabin. “Sorry,” she
apologized and walked out. Unable to find any known face, she walked back to
the lift. She entered the lift. She finally recognized the liftman. The liftman
was the same man who would foray the lift even in those year.
“Hello,
sir. Can you tell me where did Electricwala and Co shift to?” Veronica asked
excitingly.
The lift
man looked closely towards Veronica. “Oh. It’s you. I remember. You use to work
in this building once.” Veronica nodded smilingly.” Can you tell me where is
Zubin sir now.”
“Actually,
I don’t know. But after you had left, the office closed down.”
“Can you
tell me why did the office close down.” she asked inquisitively.
“They say
that he didn’t have much customers to work with. After some months, he only pretended to run an
office. He was only interested in teaching young people how to work and think.
He made them work very hard and gave them money for that. They thought that
they were getting salary but there was no business so it was all a loss for
Zubin in those later years. All the work was only to train young people who
came to his office and then those young people left getting irritated by his
hard task master role.”
Veronica
was stunned and shocked. Her mind went down to the years when she worked so relentlessly
in that office and he would review, check and make corrections.
“Do you
know where did he shift?”
“No one
knows that actually. He just vanished one day after everyone came to know that
he wasn’t left with any business or clients.”
Tears had
almost rolled down her eyes. She controlled herself and walked down the
building. She looked at the sky above and road ahead. The shops were the same,
the road side stall was the same and the people all around also seemed same. Everything she had learnt was attributable to
Zubin and the firm. If not for him, she would have been a routine employee
doing routine work in some organization. She felt sad that she couldn’t say a
goodbye thank you to him when she had left. Those words came back to her, “Hope
you make me proud one day.”
It was
afternoon time. She decided to walk down to her current office. As she walked
and mixed into the crowd of hundreds of people heading to some destination or
other, some two thousand kilometers away, in a small town, at the door of a
small office, there was a knock. The owner of the office looked up and said,
“Come in”
“Hello, sir.
I am Aniket Mehta and I am here to work as a Typist.”
“Are you
sure you want to work here? I am really very strict and a hard task master.”
“Yes, sir.
I am ready”
“Good. You
can join then. Please take these hand written papers and type them on the
computer outside. We have to dispatch them today itself.”
Aniket took
the bunch of papers and hurried outside.
The sixty- eight
-year- old Zubin Electricwala rested back on his chair thinking happily about
the fact that he will be training a young mind for the future.