The unknown Indian

"What's this request? Yeh Kya hai yaar?", Baburam picked up a file from the 'IN' tray on his table.

"Somene wants to award a doctorate to someone else, sir. They have sent a request for clearance", Baburam's secretary answered even as he was busy crushing dried chana in his hand.

"Why do you crush chana before eating yaar? I never understand that", Baburams sense of curiosity overtook his sense of duty. The secretary however was very protocol based. He never tolerated any questions that he found intrusive and violating his personal choices in life. He decided to ignore Baburam.

"How can you ignore your boss? If you keep doing that I will not clear this file". Baburam was angry and so lost his sense of threat-making. He forgot, in the rush of the moment, that his secretary wouldn't give two chanas if the file was not cleared. In fact if anyone, it was Baburam who would get affected by not clearing the file.

The secretary crushed some more chana in his hand and popped them into his huge open mouth. Baburam was hopeful of eliciting some response from him but none came forth. Having quenched his addiction for the moment, the secretary looked at Baburam as if he were a TV that is switched off. Baburam felt insignificant by that look and realized that his importance lied in his signature, just like the TVs importance lies in its 'Power On' status. When he signs or decides not to sign, it leads to action which makes him important. At all other times, Baburam's value was just that of a a TV that is switched off. It occupies space, looks ugly and is an unnecessary nuisance.

Baburam turned his gaze back onto the file that was lying in the 'IN' tray. He decided to take a look at it after all. "Why not create some action using this file? May be the damn secretary will understand what an important man I am".

The file had the face of a man who needs to be conferred a doctorate. The face looked familiar to Baburam. "Where did I see this before?" For a brief moment an unlikely hope entered his mind that it was his very own thopda and some of his friends were trying to surprise him not knowing that such files, after all, have to be cleared by him. That unlikely hope ventured into his mind and made it home for some brief period during which the mind kicked off a parallel process that drove the poor Hope out. The parallel process replayed Baburam's own life to him. His consistent last rank status throughout his educational years, the false certificates that he created to get this present job, the times when he demanded bribe from his own father to clear his pension file, the fact that except people who are dependent on him he had no friends and so on. The unlikely hope ran away as quickly as it came in.

Baburam tried to jog his memory to remember where he possibly could have seen that face in the file before. Nothing came up.

"Fine then" Baburam thought in indignation. His mind was never loyal and always failed him when needed. Baburam pondered on the file and the face in it for some more time. His job always presented him with two choices. To sign or not to sign. What he chose depended on the personal appearance of the face in the file with a little 'something'. Presently, he did not had any idea if the face in the file, to be doctorated, was seeking to meet him. He wanted to check with his chana munching secretary but was scared to ask him. Baburam wondered how he seemed to have power on all other people but the one person on who he wished to have authority on, his secretary. The Babudom works in strangest of the ways and Baburam's situation was no exception.

Baburam studied the fie for some more time to find any possible grounds on which he can stop it from moving. He found his answer in the very first page. "This fellow lives in Madhiridh !" he exclaimed aloud. "Where is this place yaar? Yeh kaisi jaga hai?" This time Baburam was happy to have found a common ground with his secretary. As much as two nuclear physicists find common ground in their knowledge, two non-nuclear physicists find common ground in their lack-of-knowledge too. The brotherhood is applicable in both the cases.

The secretary stopped the chana crushing abruptly and nodded in agreement. "Madhura suna hai; Madras suna hai; Madhuban suna hai. Never heard of this Madhiridh though". Baburam and secretary tried to scan their knowledge base mostly comprising of the places where they had relatives. No such place called 'Madhiridh' came to the fore.

"What nonsense is this" Baburam flared. Secretary munched some more chana. "Our people do not know the places in our own country and send such files without even verifying". Suddenly Baburam felt confident and empowered by his own knowledge that he never knew existed. "And, the face-on-the-file does not even bother to come up to discuss the case with us". To Baburam's instincts, this presented a great opportunity to make good money. He was not going to let the opportunity pass by.

Baburam looked at his secretary and then looked at the face in the file one last time. His boss instinct wanted to make sure it was not, after all, his chana munching secretary's face in the file. He double checked the eye brows, nose, eyes and everything else he could possibly verify in a passport sized photograph before he finally realized that his secretary was, after all, completely bald. Having verified thus, Baburam picked up the red ink pen and scribbled on the file.

"The face in the file is not an Indian Citizen because he lives in Madhiridh. Case rejected"

Baburam tossed the file across to his secretary. "Put it in the 'reject' tray", he said and then moved out to have his 10th cup of tea for the day.

The secretary picked up the file and before pushing it into the 'reject' tray, looked at the smiling face of the World Chess Champion in the file. "The idiot Baburam will learn a lesson now", he smiled wickedly.

The secretary unknowingly set in motion a series of events that would make Baburam famous, even if for the wrong reasons. He did not realize that would not change anything in Baburam's life or his.