A Big Brother?
She then thought of meeting her parents, her brother, and
her most favourite person — her sister-in-law, her brother's wife. It was she
who had given Vrinda the most support after Vinit's departure, having pushed
her to appear for her BA and helped her through it. The decision to go to
Kolhapur exhilarated her, and she felt much better.
The next day, she first exchanged the coupons for cash and
then went shopping — sarees for her mother and sister-in-law, sweets for her
father, Bakarwadis for her brother, and some gifts for the kids. She also sent
a message to her sister-in-law that she would be coming to Kolhapur the next
day.
The next day, she caught the morning luxury bus and reached
Kolhapur by 11 a.m. She met everyone at home and handed over the gifts. Her
parents, brother, and sister-in-law were all delighted to see her looking like
her old self again — laughing and happy. She then broke the news of her new
assignment, the nature of the work, and her designation, though she said
nothing about the salary.
Her brother didn't ask about the money either. Instead, he
asked, "Where's the office? How will you get there every day?" When
she told him about the car, he was genuinely pleased.
Her mother insisted that she pay her respects at the 'Ambabai' temple in Kolhapur before starting the new job. Vrinda agreed and went there
with her sister-in-law.
She was back in Pune after two days. Over those two days,
she had been thinking about what kind of sarees and hairstyle she should adopt
for her new job. She felt that her present hairstyle was fine and needed no
change. As for sarees, she decided it was time to move away from them. Once
people got used to seeing her in kurta-salwar, she wouldn't feel odd about it
any more — and it would be easier to make the change now, at the start of
something new. So, for the first time in her life, she decided to change her
attire. This meant a change of shopping plans too, but she still had enough
time on hand.
By Thursday, she was ready, dressed in a kurta. She looked
in the mirror and was pleased with what she saw. Would Sandip approve? she
wondered for a moment.
The driver arrived on time, and she reached the hotel around
1 p.m. This time, surprisingly, Sandip himself was waiting for her.
"Welcome to the Trust," he said, and accompanied her to the lobby,
where three more people were seated — one of them Jayantiben. Sandip introduced
her to all of them. One was a manager who would liaise with all the project
in-charges, another lady would look after administration, and Jayantiben, as
usual, would handle accounts. Each of them gave her a rose to welcome her. Then
they all left for the office.
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Sandip said he wanted to brief her on a few things — if she
hadn't eaten yet, could she join him for lunch? "Only if it's a simple veg
meal," Vrinda said, and Sandip laughed.
Vrinda felt that Sandip wasn't quite himself today, not the
way she had seen him last week. He seemed hesitant, uncertain about almost
everything, and careless about his clothes too. As they walked towards the
restaurant, Sandip suddenly paused and turned towards her, giving her a quick,
appreciative glance. Vrinda thought he must have liked her dress, but she
showed no emotion, only looking down for a few moments.
They sat at the same table as the week before and ordered
their food. Sandip then opened up. "Vrinda, now that you're one of us, I
want to give you some important pointers. First, always remember — the Trust is
not human. For it, everything is yes or no, black or white. Phrases like
'maybe,' 'we shall see,' or 'I feel' are strictly off-limits. If you want to
say no to something, that's perfectly fine — the Trust will simply find another
way to get the job done. It doesn't understand sarcasm, satire, or praise. And
most important of all — it never forgets, and it never forgives."
"By the way, this hairstyle looks very nice on
you," Sandip commented, all of a sudden, then added, quickly, that he
shouldn't have said that.
"Sir, does the Trust notice my hairstyle too?"
Vrinda asked, purposely.
"No! Only Trust directors notice that," Sandip
smiled.
"Then I must report the directors," Vrinda said,
and added, "I've been wanting to ask you since last week — why does the
Trust want to remember my blouse measurements?"
Sandip frowned. "Oh, nothing of that sort. That tailor
is a liar — he's got that imported machine now, so he keeps telling stories to
customers. Though that does bring up something important. I myself haven't been
able to figure out exactly what relationship these traders — the ones who gave
you cash, or the tailor — have with the Trust. My guess is that they're part of
a large list of donors who contribute to the Trust and probably do odd jobs
like this for it. But it's only a guess. In any case, your blouse measurements
are not with the Trust."
Sandip continued. "There have been some changes, which
I'll tell you about in the office. But remember, no chit-chat there — only
formal business. If you want to tell me how good I look, you'll have to take me
out for that." He gave a hearty laugh. "Now, if you've finished
eating, one small request — can we have a scoop of ice cream? What flavour do
you like? I like tutti-frutti."
Vrinda didn't actually care for ice cream, but for some
reason didn't feel like refusing him. "I'll have vanilla," she said.
After they had enjoyed their little indulgence, Sandip said,
"Let's go to the office."
"Let me pay the bill today," Vrinda said.
"Okay, go ahead," Sandip said.
After lunch, they walked to the office, just as they had the
week before, both of them carrying their backpacks. At the office, all four of
them took Vrinda to her cabin. She saw her nameplate on the door — 'Vrinda
Patil, CEO, Pune Chapter.' For a second, she remembered Vinit.
Sandip asked her to sit in the executive chair first. Then
all four of them shook her hand and congratulated her. Somehow, she felt that
Sandip had held her hand a little longer than the customary handshake called
for. Why was that? Vrinda wondered to herself.
Then the other staff members left, and the cabin door
clicked shut. Sandip said, "Vrinda, there's been some rethinking about the
strategy for the Pune Chapter. Last week I told you about aggregation, but the
Trust now feels this strategy shouldn't be implemented at this stage — not
until we grow to be the largest NGO in this area. So for now, you'll need to
focus only on growth — starting new projects, new ideas. Open your laptop and
you'll find a working paper prepared by the board of directors; that will be
your basic plan. We expect you to use your own mind and come up with fresh
ideas. There's a GOI portal on NGOs working in the field — you'll find a
goldmine of information on social work ideas on your laptop. So go ahead, and
give us some good results. Do you have any questions?"
Vrinda replied, "I don't have any right now. I've
understood the change in strategy, and I'll come up with workable
proposals."
Sandip continued. "There are some changes to my
schedule this week. I'll be leaving for Delhi today itself, right now. Goodbye,
Vrinda, and all the best for your future. I must go — I have a flight to
catch."
Somehow, Vrinda felt a tinge of sadness in his voice, but
she kept quiet.
After he left, Vrinda called all the staff members for a
meeting, to understand the day-to-day functioning and office procedures from
them.
By the time the meeting was over, it was time to leave.
Before going home, she thought of opening her laptop to look at the Trust's
home page. In the right-hand column, there was the customary section of news
from the Trust. Surprisingly, right at the top was news about the Pune Chapter
— Mr. Subbu Rajgopal was being appointed as director in charge of the Pune
Chapter, effective the very next day. This meant that from tomorrow, she would
have a new boss.
She called the staff and gave them the news. They weren't
surprised at all, being old hands at this.
On the way home, Vrinda kept thinking. Sandip must have
known this news earlier — that's why his behaviour had been a little strange
today, and why he had simply said goodbye and wished her well. Was he being
punished? Was it punishment for their restaurant lunches together? She would
never know. Or was it meant to teach her a lesson — behave, or quit?
Orwell's Big Brother watched everyone, all the time. This AI
Big Brother seemed even more oppressive.
She told herself, "Vrinda, don't be surprised if
tomorrow the Trust says that, as per its records, no Mr. Sandipan Mulick was
ever a director here — or if it even denies that any person by that name ever
existed."
For her own part, though, things had improved. Her workload
had become much easier now — instead of more liaisoning work with other NGOs,
she would have to make more field trips. That was easier to manage, she
thought.
This Sandip was a strange character. In the office, he was
completely formal; outside, exactly the opposite. It was good that he had
cleared up the mystery about the tailor and the shopkeepers who had given her
cash. She had learned, to some extent, how to deal — or not deal — with the
Trust, she thought.
She would now meet the new director only next Thursday, if
there was no change in schedule. Sandip, she was certain, was not a bad person
— good company too. It might have been fun to spend an evening with him
sometime. Now she didn't know if she would ever meet him again.
For now, she had her work cut out for her. Sandip had
disappeared from her life as suddenly as he had appeared a week before. She let
out a long sigh.
(Concluded)
(All characters places except for geographical names events actions of people are fictional. Any similarity found is purely accidental. All images AI generated)