Interview

Sudheer adjusted his tie. He rarely wore one, but this is an interview for a job, that too for a store manager. He lost his job a few months ago. His former company shut down a few divisions. They blamed it on the coronavirus, the lockdown, the sinking sales.

This interview is important. These days the classified pages in The Time of India are erratic. There was a time they came as a 32-page supplement, now they are hardly two pages inside the main sheet, and most are for teachers. Having applied for many positions, he has finally got a reply. A proper reply, not an auto-generated one. One with a zoom meeting id and pass code.
 
A few years ago, this meeting would have taken him to Delhi with reimbursement for sleeper class train fare. In Covid times a 40 minute chat on computer will do the trick.
 
The computer buzzed. Ramesh Kumar, the GM, was online. The name sounded familiar. A very common one, so hard to place a face to it. If it was a Thamarakshan or a Nalinakshan, there was no question of forgetting. But names like Rajesh, Ramesh, Rakesh…. They could be anyone.
 
“Good morning Sudheer. How are you?”

“I am fine sir.”

“We gather from your CV that you are jobless right now.”

“Sir, you know these are troubling times. Downsizing, upgrading…”

“You seem to have some experience in running warehouses.”

“Yes sir, I used to work in a C&F warehouse in Delhi.”
 
“That is what we are looking for. We have some space in Kochi. We have tieups with a few companies. Basically we will run C&F for them from this one warehouse.”

“Sir is this an existing business?”
“Not quite. We need someone who knows Hindi. Someone who can handle the labour.”

“I am proficient in Hindi.”

“Most of the labour will be from Bengal, Jharkhand and Odisha.”
 
“Not a problem, sir.”
 
“They can be handful for someone who doesn’t know their language. Communication is the key.”

“From ulloo ka patha to MC-BC, I have it all covered. Not an issue sir.”
 
“Sudheer, you are from Paravur, is it?”

“Yes sir”

“Where in Paravur? Which school did you go to?”

“Vazhikulam, I went to Pullamkulam school.”

“I too am from Paravur. I went to Samooham school.”

“I thought I had met you somewhere, that is why,” Sudheer tried to stretch his memory. ‘Who exactly is this chap?’

“You were into politics, if I am not wrong”

“We were clueless sir. Those days we were stupid. I am totally out of politics now,” Sudheer dodged the bullet. Trade unionism is the last thing you want to be linked to if you want a job in the private sector.

“Nothing to worry Sudheer. But I do remember one fight you got into.”
 
Sudheer didn’t know which direction the conversation was heading. 

“One near Poosharippadi. You guys were terrific.”

“Oh that one. We got into that brawl as a friend sought help. Had no clue what it was about. We just bashed up the guy.”

“That is the thing about friendship. One doesn’t question friends,” Ramesh said, “And you were a hero that day.”

“Sir I won’t brag about that. But the guy had it coming. You don’t come to our area and take panga with us. See sir I know Hindi slangs pretty well.”

“You gave him quite a pasting”

“Haan sir, now when I think about it I don’t remember his face. Actually we didn’t get to see his face at all. We were busy kicking him.”

“Oh, no wonder you didn’t recognise me.”

Sudheer’s face turned pale but he soon regained  his composure.

“To be fair to you sir, you were very brave. Never seen anyone fight like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You held your ground against the five of us. Normal people would have crapped in their pants.”

“What are you doing in the stores, you should be in the sales division,” Ramesh laughed.
 
When the call ended, a voice came from the kitchen. “I have told you many times ‘don’t pick up fights, don’t fight up fights’ but you won’t listen. Now suffer,” shouted Sudheer’s wife.

Sudheer is an optimist. He is brushing up his sales skills now.