Words

Let me introduce you to a a few of the guys here…

The person in the foreground looking all serious and engrossed in work is one of the partner bosses, ‘Mr. Subroto Sarkar’. I call him Babu da. He is the ‘production & servicing head’ of the agency. And he is only half as workaholic as he looks here.

The person next in the vision is Sanjay, one of the lifelines of this office. He is the guy who runs around doing all the things we lazy people can’t accomplish ourselves.

The Lady grinning so nicely posing for the Camera is my dear own sweetheart, Rashmi. Ofcourse she knows she is being photographed, otherwise that smile stays hidden behind a little nose twitching with anger.

Okay, so the red tee shirt gentleman comes next. With a perfect photogenic face and the simplest of demeanours, he is the favourite of all the people. Somu we call him, Soumindo the true identity. A real darling he is. Of everyone.

Barely visible behind Somu is yours truly. Adi or Alok, whatever you wanna call me. Looking all nice and happy, I just had a simple discussion with Pinaki da over a very complex invitation card we were making. Shekhar helped diffused the intensity by clicking this photograph. Yes Shiv ‘n Maggie, I haven’t changed a bit although just two years have passed.

Shekhar is our Accounts man. Every single paisa goes through his scrutiny. So you know how important he is and because all important people have a habit of staying behind the scenes you can’t see him as of now. Perhaps in some later photograph.

Behind me is Suman, ‘the servicing guy’. Always serious, he had to literally stretch up for this snap. He is another one of the simple ‘n sober guys around. Always looking for a young girlfriend – Simply ‘n soberly. He is the one responsible for rekindling my interest in books. No amount of thanks is enough for that. Thanks mate!

Aha! The one arguing with Pinaki da is Neeru, ‘the most hilarious and funny creature’ in our office. I call her ‘Nadia’. A smile never-ever leaves her face. Infact we’ve to ask her to stop smiling and concentrate on work. Otherwise all’s perfect with her. Now that she has plans for settling down in life, I wonder what she meant by giving me the title of ‘the second most intelligent person she knows.’

And last, hidden behind Rashmi and nodding to whatever Neeru is saying is Mr. Pinaki Ranjan Saha. The other half of the partner bosses we are blessed with. He is the ‘creative head’ of the agency. We call him Pinaki da. A more serious person never walked this Earth. He likes his work and loves his clients (most of them incidentally are women).

Some people are not in this picture, notably my dear Bandhu- Harsh, Sanjeet the peon and Rajender- Sanjay’s partner in crime. This completes the roundup of the people in this small, young agency of ours.

Spring is almost here, winter is packing her bags. You hear this in the evening news. ‘The minimum temperature was five degrees above normal.’ Coupled with the newspaper, they really are the best source to know whether you should feel cold or warm.

There used to be another way of gauging the spring’s arrival. You looked around & saw the flowers blooming. Bright, rioting, colorful flowers. In the parks, outside government offices, in private gardens, on windowsills and even in cramped corners of overstuffed balconies, you saw spring’s signature all around.

Not any more. Now-a-days, spring is seen only in well organized flower shows. Or in precious parts at the florist’s. ‘This rose will cost rupees seven sir. No, you can’t take two for ten, I’ll lose my margin sir.’

The only alive, full of life flower I saw this season was in that art gallery’s lawn I went last Saturday with Apsy. A single orangish-red gladiolus. Looking slightly ruffled under the artificial light at night. Just wanted to sit cross-legged there and watch it. Apsy liked the idea, but one look at the smattering of intellectuals around us, we dropped the thought. You are supposed to behave a little maturely amongst ummm, matured people.

There was this rose bush also, trimmed a bit abruptly. So many buds waiting to flower, so little leaves to accompany them. And that white kid who liked our gladiolus very much. And dared to show his delight. Sensible. Unlike us. Children are same everywhere. Children are like flower buds, hiding so many springs within. That is, if they are not trimmed as per society’s whims and wishes.

No more flowers in our lives, no more innocence in our children. It seems an eternal winter has set around us. No more spring in our hearts. Or should I say, no more heart in our springs.

All of us have turned into that red-faced gentleman’s clones. Engrossed in our serious matters and important lives, we tend to overlook life’s little delights.

All I wish for is a piece of spring in my life.