And it rained

“Those guys were talking about you. You know what they said?”-his colleague immediately swirled on the revolving chair as soon as his office superiors left from their daily gossip at his cubicle. Kanishka nodded in the negative. “I am leaving anyway. Another couple of days. Just want that damn relieving order.”-he finished writing the title of the file with the black marker. “Even black spots can be meaningful if they are joined.”-he looked at his calligraphically beautiful handwriting one last time before he slid the file in the drawer. In the preceding five years, he had experienced true colors of every situation around him; some had been black spots. “But they were talking that...” “Here Lokesh, this file contains the details about the pending projects… as I briefed. Good luck!”-Kanishka turned to book his ticket to Hyderabad. “You’re going to Hyderabad on Monday?”-Lokesh had his sight stuck to Kanishka’s monitor screen. “Yup, I’ll visit the school once and, of course, will also visit the R&D center to ensure that my projects are at a certain milestone so that you can pick up the thread from there.” “Did you submit the travel allowance application? You are going on an official duty, right?” “No.”-Kanishka nodded. “Mainly for personal work. I’ll just visit the office on one of those days that I stay there.” “Oh, ok. You know this guy who has relatives in Hyderabad? Whenever he feels like visiting them, he converts the tour to official, citing some reason… And claims the tour expenses...” Trrring!! Kanishka was alarmed by the phone vibrating on the other side of the table. “Hi Sandesh, what’s up?” “Kanishka, can you accompany me to the railway station? I just can’t go by myself. Need some help with the luggage.”-his voice seemed weak. “Sure, at what time?”-Kanishka knew that it was not the baggage but the heart that was heavy. Sandesh’s relieving order had come after a long censure inside the locked cabin. “What will happen when I ask about my relieving order two days later?”-Kanishka was concerned. A few minutes passed by. “You sure have too much to carry.”-Kanishka stood at Sandesh’s doorstep. There was no reply from Sandesh. He seemed to be busy on Whatsapp. “I’ve asked Auto Anna to come over at three o clock.”-Kanishka still maintained an interrogative gaze on Sandesh. “Hmmm.”- he had no sooner uttered the sound than the familiar beat-boxing of Auto Anna’s diesel-powered rickshaw was heard. It brought him down to reality. It was 2:55 pm. “Anna is early by five minutes.”-Kanishka dragged the suitcases out. “It’s the bull-whip effect.”- Sandesh reasoned as he stepped out and turned to lock the door one last time. “What’s that?”-Kanishka transferred one of the suitcases to Auto Anna’s ever-reliable shoulders. Costly shoulders. “Read on Coursera. It’s about how each channel member adds his own safety margin.” “Ok. I haven’t had the chance to go through the pre-reads that the school expects me to be prepared with. I am held up with relieving formalities. Also, I must close the bank account here. I’m fed up of the manager…”-Kanishka knew he won’t be able to read the course material before joining Indian School of Business, Hyderabad, in short ISB, one of the most reputed business schools in the world. Sandesh smiled frugally before he walked down the stairs. “Dude, soon you are anyway going to be in a better situation than I would ever be. I got the one-year executive MBA in IIN C. It’s not even their flagship program.” “Don’t make fun of me. I am sure you’ll be doing far better than me after a few years.”- Kanishka was tired of the cliché. Almost everyone in his workplace said the same thing- “Your life is set!” It became more frequent as the days came closer to the relieving date. Auto Anna sped through the marshes of reeking sewage spread across from the narrow streets, as the clock ticked. “The train is at 3:30, we’ll reach well in time.”-Sandesh muttered to himself to prove to Kanishka that he was not thinking of the unforgettable past or the uncertain future. They reached the railway station in no time. “Here, thank you.”-Kanishka held out 250 rupees to Anna. “You may keep that. You don’t need to pay.”-Anna was not ready to accept. Either he was too nice or too sarcastic. “Here, 450.”-Sandesh paid Anna and released the hostage that Anna’s self-respect was. “What is this Anna? It costs 250 to the station. I pay every time for auto-rickshaw.” “Why don’t you call one of them then? Why me?”-Anna pulled the rickshaw start-lever and stormed across the station. “Goodness!” “It’s his rickshaw, Kanishka. So… It is he who can take you for a ride.” Luckily, the platform for the Bengaluru Express was close by. As they settled on one of the platform benches, Sandesh went quiet for a few minutes. “I spent six years working like a donkey.”-he maintained a sharp gaze on the platform floor. “And the way they treated me while I left…”-he crouched on the bench. Kanishka remembered how well Sandesh used to work, staying back after office almost every day… and continue working. Surprisingly, many people stayed back after office. It was a performance metric. And a powerful one too. “I know… And I used to leave early. I mean… On time.”-Kanishka admitted. “Yeah, you used to practice at the nets every time I passed by in the late evenings... Have you asked for your relieving order?” Kanishka puffed out lung-full of air. “Not yet. I have submitted the request but haven’t got a response yet.” “Oh.”- Sandesh didn’t speak as he did not want to demoralize Kanishka. Usually, it was not a concern to obtain a relieving order once a resignation was tendered. But in that workplace, rules extended beyond policies and norms. Servility was the key to get even the right thing done. Else, the result was generally deliberate delays by deviations and dilution of objectives. There was about half an hour of total silence as both engaged in their own memories of spending years in that godforsaken land with minimum amenities and moderate humanity, inadequate electricity and abundant heat, scarce drinking water and profuse sweat, limited food options and unlimited isolation. Kanishka had spent half a decade in that remote area, away from the comforts of Bengaluru- his hometown. He had worked in Hyderabad for a year before switching to the remote location. He had no reason not to dislike Hyderabad either. He had a tough, traveling job in an unforgiving Hyderabad. But the remote location was a true Man Vs Wild episode that ran for five full years. Bengaluru Express arrived with a series of ominously teeming unreserved coaches that had also consumed the first two compartments of the reserved 2nd seater. The slowing train allowed a glimpse of the ticket examiner who was seen balancing himself in the empty spaces between the squatted passengers whose heads marked the maze along the path. Sandesh waited for his Chair Car compartment. Both of them swung the luggage inside and hopped into the coach like a pair of pirates. “All right bro… I think I’ll manage.”- assured he, waving affirmingly as Kanishka stepped out of the coach, after placing his suitcase into the cabin space. “Thank you.”- Kanishka could see Sandesh utter from inside the soundproof glass. “Why is he thanking me? He has helped me a lot throughout my stay. One of the few genuine guys here. He even lent me his suit for the interview!” And then, Kanishka was one among the residue left on the platform. Those who had come to see their families off, were sad. Kanishka was happy for Sandesh. As he started his return to the township, there was a sudden downpour, relieving him of the day-long sweat on the nape and on the tired, weather-beaten face. He realized that some journeys are relieving. They erase some forced relationships and help you re-live. They take you far, comfortably far…