The hopes and fears
I thought I looked decent enough. But when I asked my roommate, Sushama, to give me some job leads, she said," I don't mean to be rude to you, Rima, but you'd have to change your hairstyle. Cut them short and tie them up, but no braids. That's not the done thing here. Of course, I will ask around other offices in our building." That was promising. She helped me get my CV and application typed in some standard form. I had learnt typing. But I couldn't speak in English, nor was my vocabulary good enough.
As I went to the office in her building with my application, I was anxious. I didn't know anything of the office work. I had helped my mother in her school and all I knew was every office needed some filing. The owner called me and asked if I could do the job of a telephone operator. I said yes, not knowing the difference between the telephone operator and the typist. I wanted a job. Today, sitting in this skyscraper in New York, I laugh at myself. How raw, naive and simple I was!
Any way, I started this job and wrote excitedly to mom. There was no question of writing to my dad. He was inert, passive and desolate as ever. I could pay for my room rent and barely manage the food expenses in that salary. But I had the job now with me.
Most of the people who came to the office were labour contractors, suppliers and a few customers. I began to understand something of this construction business. Most of the flats were booked at the site office. People came to see the construction, and if they liked the scheme they would book the flat there. The site people dealt with them and handled all interactions. Only once in a while the customer would show up in the office. That was the pattern then.
The boss would receive telephone calls from the customers, bankers, politicians and his friends and family. I had to handle these. Very few of them spoke in English. I learnt quickly enough to deal with the contractors and workers. I wanted to get to the meat of the business. So I told my boss that I could do typing as well. He said, "Don't ask for a rise in salary. If that's fine, I would give you some typing work." That was my first lesson in the world of work. If you do additional work, you are expected to charge for it. Not bad, I said to myself.
As I went to the office in her building with my application, I was anxious. I didn't know anything of the office work. I had helped my mother in her school and all I knew was every office needed some filing. The owner called me and asked if I could do the job of a telephone operator. I said yes, not knowing the difference between the telephone operator and the typist. I wanted a job. Today, sitting in this skyscraper in New York, I laugh at myself. How raw, naive and simple I was!
Any way, I started this job and wrote excitedly to mom. There was no question of writing to my dad. He was inert, passive and desolate as ever. I could pay for my room rent and barely manage the food expenses in that salary. But I had the job now with me.
Most of the people who came to the office were labour contractors, suppliers and a few customers. I began to understand something of this construction business. Most of the flats were booked at the site office. People came to see the construction, and if they liked the scheme they would book the flat there. The site people dealt with them and handled all interactions. Only once in a while the customer would show up in the office. That was the pattern then.
The boss would receive telephone calls from the customers, bankers, politicians and his friends and family. I had to handle these. Very few of them spoke in English. I learnt quickly enough to deal with the contractors and workers. I wanted to get to the meat of the business. So I told my boss that I could do typing as well. He said, "Don't ask for a rise in salary. If that's fine, I would give you some typing work." That was my first lesson in the world of work. If you do additional work, you are expected to charge for it. Not bad, I said to myself.
posted by Bhupatkar at 4:39 AM
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