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PARTISAN REVIEW
seemed to have his forehead where his nose should be. "There's not an
opening in production, in the sales section, or in the proofreader sec–
tion," he started saying.
"I heard there was an opening in the proofreading section," 1 said.
"Last week a man with an MA and LLB filled that seat," he said.
"But a junior clerk is needed! That seat will be open soon."
I was interested. "Where is the man going who had that job?"
"He's going to be Deputy Manager at the Nilgiri Tea Estate." Just as
I thought.
He told me a lot more things. People at the company do very well for
themselves. The warehouse keeper gets a hundred rupees. But those who
leave the company do even better. Some earn more than a thousand
rupees a month. I asked him how this was possible.
"Many people don't know how to check inventory, right? There are
at least twenty-five thousand fewer books than there should be. Who
goes into that warehouse? How can anyone check anything in that
ocean of books?"
While he was leaving, the bald-headed man said to come to his office
to see him between eleven and twelve o'clock tomorrow. 1 said 1would.
By the time [ got to Saraswati the following day, it was approximately
twelve o'clock. Then-as if God had appeared-I saw the proprietor
talking with two gentlemen near the gate. He saw me, but by the time I
lifted my hands to say
namaskar
he had turned away.
He didn't seem to recognize me. I was wearing a plaid shirt, not the
white shirt I wore last time-that must have been why.
As the two gentlemen said goodbye, I approached the proprietor and
greeted him. He smiled a little. "May I know who you are?" he asked.
"Parvatheesam is my aunt's son, sir," I said.
He still didn't see the connection.
"Which Parvatheesam? Our binder?" he asked.
"No, sir. Your son-in-law's co ll eague. We came to see you that day.
You said you would give me a job. This letter came from your office. It's
been a long time since I received it."
I took out the Lord Brahma's arrow that was so tightly folded that it
was about to tear.
"It
looks like Rambadran wrote this." He saw a guy with a khaki hat
standing nearby. "Eh! Take him to Rambadran," he said, entrusting me
to the errand boy. The proprietor walked away slowly. As he left, all the
workers who saw him gathered around and escorted him away.
