Engineering An Engineer “ I am confirmed that new District Engineer does not take bribe. And that is greatest tragedy and misfortune for us.” A deep sigh oozes out from the senior contractor like Ram Nag, smoking a brown coloured leafy cigarette. “Are you sure?” Bhuvan Das, the young one checks for reconfirmation. Under the banyan tree near the main Administrative Building of District Engineer’s Office , the cemented round table is too silent at this peak hour of eleven a.m. Out of the folk of twelve contractors, some are standing with support of bicycles and some are sitting. All faces wear look of gloom and worries as their eyes are set to the face of the old man of silvery hair and well trimmed white moustache above the dark lips resulted from chain smoking. “ Yes, friends ! one hundred percent sure ! That’s why I didn’t sleep well last night, even after taking Vallium Five. ” His head is down in despair. The crowd freezes as if it is shot from behind by a magical arrow all on a sudden. For last few days ,the rumour at the level of district has been spreading like fire. The chilling effect of such rare information has been looming large on contractors and the reconfirmation from the senior most contractor like Rambabu is the last nail to the coffin. “ But… Rambabu, if he doesn’t take bribe in cash, don’t you think he may take it in kind ? say , wine…. Scotch Whisky …even to the extent of Champagne ?” Bhuvan nags. “ Bhuvan ! I mean both. He doesn’t drink… He hates bribe. That’s all.” Ram Nag is virtually irritated. “ Oh God ! he doesn’t drink ! Then how can he live? So high position…….. so much of workload…. “ Shambhu Ghoshal , another young contractor wonders. “ Then , what does he do whole day ? Only worshipping God and offering prayers ? “ Retorts Parimal Gui, a middle aged man on the cycle. In the warmth of March, he is still wearing woollen comforter around his neck. “ He writes poetry. That is his only love. “ Ram Nag finishes murmuring. “ W………..h………a………t ?? “ A huge what squats in the mouth of all, allowing flies to fly comfortably into the mouth. All are mum for a while. “ Poetry ! It is confirmed by Haranath , the main Peon and later on by Rakhal babu , the head assistant , who has seen through his own eyes that Engineer Sahib sits with pen and paper every morning till ten after his breakfast and TV news. After office hours, he goes to his quarters, and starts reading and writing poetry till dinner is served. Daily. No wife, no family, no club, no tennis, no socialising, no drinks.” Ram Nag answers in detail. “This is the job of teenagers, college students ! And of men when they are in love for the first time. An engineer of distinction is in this job ? Shame! Shame!! Then, he must be mad.“ Hemendra Kanjilal reasons the affair of Engineer with poetry. “ And we ‘re finished for his bloody madness. Before the joining of this sahib, none was of this type. They were all kings. This is a ridiculous buffoon. “ Ram Nag laments in silence. Bhuvan Das does not seem to leave the matter this way, “ We have to think about it.. Something needs to be done. “ The crowd disperses thereafter. Next morning, after several secret meetings, Ram Nag sends a slip, gets in the large chamber of District Engineer and sits in front of the man with stern face scribbling on a paper. “ Yes , tell me, Rambabu ! “ The officer asks. “ Sir, I’ve heard that you write poems….” Rambabu says with an ear to ear smile.. “ Yes, a few…” He smiles. “ Yes sir… no sir… it is good to write poems. Since time immemorial, there has been a close relationship between man and poetry like cement and sand. Sir, isn’t it ? Are you writing ?…. now , Sir ?” Rambabu flatters . “ What ? Do you expect me to write poems during office hours ? It’s an official report.” He scolds. “ Err… my apology… sir ! Err… sorry, sir !!! “ Ram babu gets out with speed of the chamber repenting on his silly comment. “ What happened Rambabu ? Is it okay? ” The contractors are all anxious. “ No, he is preparing serious reports. Too busy to talk to me.” He says. “ Reports ? then those must be against us and staff. Have you seen the names ?” Someone asks. “ No, I didn’t.” Rambabu replies. “ Oh God ! Who knows what is stored for us in near future.” Some one laments in despair. “ The officers who do not take bribe are literally dangerous. They can do anything ….. up to any extent.” Everybody present there feels the same. And they are all under pressure of worries – of reports – of transfer - of action – of rigidity – of control – of integrity………….. some sort of stifling atmosphere that has never existed before. “ So, we should keep watch now for the time being.” Says Ram Nag, the old man in bewilderment. In the evening, Hemendra Kanjilal and Ram Nag are close pals over the bottles of country liquor at a local pub near the river. With the sun setting in the west, their eyes have started becoming red in sheer disappointment. The reason of becoming drunk today is utter confusion over the enigma called the District Engineer. And his passion - poetry. “ Never in life, I ‘ve come across such a buffoon…… a juvenile…… a ridiculous stock !When the world counts coins , he counts words ! Ha… Ha..” Hemendra gulps down a glass and screams in anger “Bloody s……h…i….i…….t !!!” Ram Nag laments,” Why people write poems ? Hemuda ? Are they frustrated in business or in love ? I can’t imagine. If you ask me , I never wrote a line of poetry. But so many quotations for work orders. Don’t you think that quotations are tougher than poems.? Becaz you can not bluff in quotations. “ Large oily head of Hemendra vacillates in confirmation. He smokes.” Truly speaking, we do not matter if he is writing poems or sipping poison. It has had nothing to do with our business. But we are miserable. For last two weeks, not a single work order has been issued.. I think he does neither care our welfare. Nor his own. I ‘m sure of that . This is a gold mine. And, he does ’nt take out a single piece of gold out of it. Really stupid chap. ” “ Tell me, what is the solution, then ? My father used to say, “ Son, there can not be a problem that has no solution. Or vice versa. “ I am utterly confused. For our community of government contractors, do something , before they are ruined. “ Rambabu looks shattered. Before them, problem gleefully lies staring at …. Wanting to be solved. As the darkness of night starts writing poetry by the use of thousands of fireflies on the page of shivering water of the river , the man of controversy struggles with his emotions in the drawing room of his official quarters. Before him , the white pages are facing him……. Wanting to be filled up. In the next morning, the district college Principal is given a visitor’s slip like many others during Visiting Hours. The man is simple, in the age group of thirties donning a white cotton shirt and dark trousers. He has hardly any feature to remember. “ Yes, what can I do for you ? “ Principal asks. “ Sir, I ‘ve not come to you for admission. Not even as a contractor , for some work orders of civil construction , which I am empanelled with the District Engineer. My soul purpose of visit is to provide funds of few thousand rupees to your college ,for the purpose of , to be very precise, helping your students to involve themselves in creativity for nurturing talents by, say, bringing out quality literary magazine in the society of the district. This is my wish , which remains unfulfilled over the years. During my young days, I could not enter in this college for scarcity of funds. In stead of becoming good writer or artist, I have been transformed in to a contractor. I hope you will allow me to fulfil this through today’s youth.” The man finishes his statement in one breath. The principal does not miss to notice the visitor’s folded hands and desperate face muscles. But he is blown away with the mistaken belief that such a benevolent action of helping youth to get into creativity must be due to personal frustration as narrated. So, being convinced, the principal calls his deputy and introduces the visitor for further process by way of fixing up a committee etc. The principal also advises both to start the job immediately. The visitor’s slip lies on the table much later after the departure of the visitor. The name so scribbled is – bhuvan das. Few days later, a fresh bunch of young boys and girls representing district college throng in the District Engineer’s office as visitors. Before all the surprised eyes, they enter , and a few minutes after, all staff and men of the office hear none other than rejoice and laughter. They inform him that they have come to know of the District Engineer’s literary talent from one Bhuvan Das , one of the student’s uncle, who is a contractor under him. The District College in its first publication of literary magazine for the society wants to associate with such a personality by positioning him as Chief Editor, who will be supported by a committee of three editors. He agrees instantly. He also wonders why such enterprise has not come up earlier. At the end, he invites them in his quarters for weekly evening tea party with discussion on literature and to be more precise, on p …o …e …m …s. The college students are thanked for enthusiasm shown in literature in spite of onslaught of the television programs as the District Engineer promises to provide all kind of financial and other support not only for this magazine but even for setting up of Cultural Club in future , where they can organise various literary and cultural programmes other than arranging picnic etc. “ For all these, adequate fund is most important. We are afraid of that .Sir !!! ” one frontliner adds. “ Don’t worry, friends! That part I shall take care. We have so many contractors like Bhuvan Das. I ‘ll see that funds come uninterruptedly and each one of my contractors voluntarily contributes. “ the District Engineer confirms with the wave of his hand. From the next week, poem reading session at the quarters is a regular feature and the notice board resumes show of various tender notices and contracts. The din and bustle of the office resumes after a few days showdown. Before all veteran contractors like Ram Nag or Hemendra Kanjilal , the show goes on……….in upbeat mood …………..before they realise that Bhuvan Das bags most of the contracts without much efforts and ……….. The office of the District Engineer has finally been back to normalcy. --------------- 000 -----------------
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