Sometimes,
in life we don’t realize the value of people until they go away from us. I am
not talking about people who are close ones, but those who we see regularly at
places like office, but barely talk to…
July 24, 2014
Thursday
In
the evening when it is few minutes left to leave from office, Mr. B. K. Sharma comes
to my seat and says smilingly in an unusual tone, “Ok Beta, chalta hu”. I smile back at him, and catching
my perplexed expressions, he replies, “Today was my last day in this company”…
His
words have caught me off-guard that I am stuck smiling, but I blurt out in disbelief, “sir,
mujhe toh koi idea hi ni tha” I have nothing
more to say, he is still smiling and says, “that’s ok, take care,
anyways where is Vishal, usse bhi mil leta hu”. I suggest him to check in his
cabin near pantry. As he heads for looking for him, my state of shock turns to
that of emotion. Following him, I meet
him at Vishal’s cabin who is not there, but two other people are in the
vicinity when I deliver a small tribute of thanks to him...
“Sir,
I didn’t have the least bit of idea that you were leaving today, but got to
learn myriad of things
from you.”
He
keeps flashing a broad grin which is the characteristic of him and then remarks
looking at the the people around, “ye meri beti ki tarh hai” and then he leaves
from there too when I almost shriek, “apna dhyan rakhna sir”.
I
get back to my seat when after a while I witness that painful moment of the
farewell. He is bidding bye to everyone individually. Habitual to the
custom of my past office, I want to suggest to have some pics, but there
are few things which can’t happen here. For me, it’s the simplest and silent
farewell I have ever seen. Everyone looks so casual and untouched. No pics, no
farewell speech, no tribute of thanks to the oldest, most experienced and the
most courageous person of the dept.
The
same moment, my eyes get wet, and I turn towards my computer to pretend that I
am not turning emotional. But, I don’t miss the moment when he is stepping out
of the department and finally goes out of the view giving me a feeling that
probably this is the last time, I saw him. The same time, his memories start erupting
in my mind...
'He used to call his fellow colleagues “Bandhu”, and when he would
ask Rishi sir and Vaid sir, “chai peene chaloge?”, this used to be a daily
reminder for me to get up for tea ”. Despite of being ‘above 65’ of age, how
boldly he used to face everyone, his voice glimpsed the essence of dignity and self-esteem.
His shrill laughing sound, his guidance and advices (one of which was to keep
updating myself through journals and magazines during the available time of
training), are few things I would always miss and the most respectable quality
was I never found him asking for any favour or bad-mouthing anyone.'
I failed to
communicate all this to him today, but I wish may God reciprocate these unsaid
things by giving him a very long and prosperous life.
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