Slumdog millionaire: a windfall

 

A night that changed his life…

“Should I just quit this, go home, and put in my papers? No, even better, I’ll just buy a gun, and shoot my boss the moment he enters the office in the morning,” thought Arun as he sat there alone, inside his cubicle in his fourth-floor office, at 1 AM, staring at the screen right in front of him. He was supposed to be working on a presentation to be delivered to the client at 11 in the morning. He was sleepy, extremely fatigued, and yet it had to be done, at any cost. He had dropped the idea of travelling back home, lest he fell asleep.

It wasn’t just the prospect of re-working on the presentation that was so exasperating to Arun. What had really tired him out more, was the marathon session of about six hours he had had with his boss only a few hours earlier. He had done well to complete that 54 slides presentation four days before the deadline. It wasn’t his fault, though, that his boss had chosen to review his work only a few hours before the actual client meeting. And if that alone wasn’t his fault, all that he had done was, doubt his analysis, question his numbers, the assumptions, and rebuke him for basically everything-as if he was a kid, working on his first ever presentation. He had tried his best to defend wherever he could. But it had all been in vain. At the end of it all, he felt completely drained-both physically and mentally.

He remembered that the last time he had felt so hopeless was in the initial few days of his engineering-when he had failed to clear a few electives, and had to reappear to make sure that he went in to the second year of engineering. But that was long time back. A lot of water had flown under the bridge since then. He had also gone ahead, and completed his MBA from one of the top-notch B-schools in India. It was only about a month and a half earlier, that he had left his nice, cozy job in the manufacturing sector for a fat paycheck that the field of consulting had to offer. Little did he know then, that for every penny he earned, he would be asked to give his pound of flesh.    

Arun thought of calling his girlfriend, so that he could curse his decision of having changed his job, and having even consulted her before doing so. But he knew she would ask him not to make much ado about nothing, and focus on the work at hand. That was perhaps the last thing he wished to hear at a time like this. He dropped the idea, and sat there for a few minutes, staring into oblivion. A few minutes passed by, and he turned his attention towards the clock. Another hour gone by, with nothing much to show. “How am I going to complete the presentation? It’s unfair on me. Is it my fault if my boss decides to turn the presentation on its head, at the last moment?” He was about to cry when the thought of getting some fresh air crossed his mind.

He went down, lighted his cigarette, and blew the ash-stained smoke into the wintry January night. The security guard downstairs was half asleep, half awake, looked bored, and didn’t seem surprised by his presence there so late in the night. He then threw a glance at the shops just across the street. They were all closed, but on the pavement abutting those shops, he could see people sleeping, a few of whom were kids. He remembered he had seen the same kids during the day running around with cups of tea, offering it to the office-goers, who stood there in groups smoking, talking about everything ranging from office politics to national politics to Cricket.

Arun was about to throw the cigarette butt into the bin, when he felt like he saw one of the kids approach him. He then heard the kid say,” Sir, we are not fortunate like you. Our parents do not even have the privilege of giving us birth in nursing homes. Right from the day we are born, we have to struggle for life, for food, for space. Every day, I see people like you getting out of their own cars and cabs, and entering these high rises, and envy you. But today, when I see you, in a condition like this, defeated by a challenge life has thrown at you, which is much smaller in proportion to what we face daily, and the reward much more handsome than what we get for our struggles, I really pity you.” And then suddenly, he felt like someone had woken him up from his stupor. He realized there was no boy there. There was only the security guard, with his hand on Arun’s shoulder, pointing towards his cell phone that was ringing loudly, disturbing the solitude of the night. It was his girlfriend who was calling. He disconnected the phone, and thought of looking for the boy, but shrugged off the idea.   

Arun got into the elevator thinking aloud,” What a terrible night this has been!” He went to his cubicle, and opened his laptop. It was half past 2. He took a deep breath, and quickly got over whatever it had been-a combination of fatigue, lethargy, ego and frustration. He first opened the excel sheet, quickly went through the numbers-made changes wherever he felt his boss made at least an iota of sense, and let the remaining be as they were. He then went ahead and started making changes to the presentation, slide after slide. It was at 8 AM, that he had finished with the changes on the last slide.      

The client was, thankfully, satisfied with the work that they had put in on such a short notice. While his boss had only suggestions for him, Arun was happy that the client had spared no words in appreciating his work. He had gone down for lunch after his presentation, when he saw that kid again, offering a cup of tea to his customer. He felt like hugging him, and telling him how he had actually changed his life-probably forever. Of course, he didn’t do anything like that, lest the kid thought he had gone mad. But he did do one thing. He offered him lunch the next day at one of the best restaurants in the vicinity. After the lunch, Arun asked him, “How was the lunch, boy?” The boy quipped, “as good as your presentation, sir.” He stood there aghast, as the boy thanked him, bade him goodbye, and ran out of the restaurant, back to where he belonged.