Transitions

I have recently moved to Gurgaon from Pune for a period of at least two months. There is a project that I am going to handle. A group is setting up a new type of business school with American collaboration. Personally it is a transition for me at three levels.

At the personal level, leaving the all too familiar grounds of Pune, my birthplace and workplace of 27 years, means letting go the support system, the circle of associations and the larger ecosystem. It has suddenly brought me in touch with the ethos of Pune that I carry within me. I am aware now more than before of the strong pull towards contentment and away from ambition and big visions. Pune very subtly looks down upon ambition and elevates contentment. Sometimes it deceives itself of the fear of failure by turning its back on big dreams. Puneites are doing something innovative in their small spheres thinking that what they do is meaningful. In Gurgaon, I practically know no one and am trying to find my feet. The Mother dairy offers an interesting spectacle of an impersonal yet caring enterprise. Excellent quality of products is backed by swift and mechanistic movements of people, who should earn incentives even if they choose to frown. Everything in Gurgaon is well laid out and modern. Yet people persist in their herd behaviour.

Young women clad in slacks do the fitness rounds in the park opposite my place. Perpendicular to their paths, the construction labour are moving to and fro public toilets with mineral water bottles in their hand at the same time. The two worlds don't cross each other's path. Security guards placed at every corner make sure that workers don't contaminate the lives of the residents.

At the work level, I am back to familiar grounds where without any formal authority, but with the top leaders' blessings I am supposed to navigate and traverse through established tribal networks. I have been warned by scores of wellwishers that I have stepped on to uncivilised territory. It's highly political alright, but have yet to experience the uncivilised part in full bloom.

The third is the individual level. I and my wife are beginning to realise the shift in our locations. I am no longer the indifferent careerist husband. I worry about her being able to fend for herself. She dreams of a new car and prepares the new house according to her tastes. She likes the break from her teacher's role and yet feels restless with the distance from her daughter and son. So we turn to each other and create a different kind of space between ourselves. It is relaxing and soothing no doubt.

Well, some more experiences of Gurgaon in the last few days. It so happened that I went with my wife to buy a refrigerator. We selected the brand and the dealer and wanted the fridge to be delivered before the first guests were due. The power supply in that big mall went off. We learnt that the backup genset was enough to cater to only a half of the mall. So the mall management alternated the supply every 15-20 minutes.

The shop attendant who was keen to close the deal now sprang into action. He took his credit card machine to a nearby shop which had power supply from the backup and tried my card there. His machine battery had run out of charge. So we waited. In the meantime, the attendant served us a cold drink. Great, we said to each other. This is some treatment you get when you go to buy sarees for a wedding. When power came back, somehow the machine would not accept my card. So we said that we could pay by cheque at the time of delivery. The clever attendant quickly altered the terms to 50% cash and remaining by cheque. We hadn't received the chequebook by then. But I gambled on the possibility that the courier would deliver it the next day. It did happen that way.

The next morning saw my wife get anxious by the hour. Soon after she got the chequebook, she started for the fridge shop. And there it was, the vehicle carrying the fridge and the tv. But they didn't bring the trolley for the tv, as promised. Any way the guests that evening were treated well.

I called up the dealer the next day but couldn't get through. So after 2 days I went there in the evening. The delivery was promised the same evening. The chap rang up his warehouse in front of me and asked for it. It wasn't delivered that evening. So I go there the next evening, only to be told that it has been delivered in the afternoon. I ask, how in the name of heaven is that possible, when I am not at home? The chap rings up his warehouse and asks to be connected to the driver of the vehicle who delivered. When he finally does, he learns that it has been delivered to the washerman who sits in a ramshackle shed two plots away from my house.
I drive down to my house and on the way stop at the washerman's. Promptly he brings out the trolley from somewhere and hands it to me. The driver took the situation in and realised that another trip was not on. So he chose to put his trust in the washerman. The basis? The simple logic that one who earns by the sweat of his brow will not play by the sleight of his hand. The washerman accepts. The basis? Relationships with residents are not strictly limited to business. They extend into all types of assistance. Who taught him this? Perhaps, his three year old daughter.

Whenever his wife talks to my wife, she addresses her as aunty. The daughter keeps repeating" Autti", "Autti" whenever she sees my wife. There's something about Madhuri which attracts children and then adults learn from children. Hats off to these simple people who make life happen around here in Gurgaon.