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Tuesday, August 27, 2013

The Night Watchman

He was the New Factory Manager and the Company was British. Raj was his name and the Raj was also British. He had just received a telegram that announced the arrival of a delegation from London and as part of their itinerary included a visit to this factory, which would find mention in their report to the Directors back home.  It was the prerogative of every Manager to put his best foot forward at such times.
A favourable report meant your next posting could be on a plum assignment Overseas. The Factory got a new coat of whitewash, while all the machines a fresh shade of Opal Green. The day the delegation arrived, the factory was spotlessly clean.

Someone noticed the handrails and balusters looked their age. Immediately the polishers were summoned to give it fresh lease of life as though this was the cream on the cake in welcoming the Guest.
Not to take a chance with any employee fingerprinting the freshly coated handrails, one of the polishers

who seemed equally polished at his speech, was placed at the landing. His task was to caution all approaching of the wet paint on the railings.

The delegation had come and gone. Years went by and every morning he would religiously take to his post in the midst of all cacophony of the loud machinery in the Factory. He was now a regular, made friends with all and had a Money lending Fund operational.

All were in Gratis for his funds helped them tide over difficult times. He stood at his post for 5 years now, until one day he stopped attending work. Recently he had been advanced 9 Million as loan and a couple of the staff stood guarantee.
Until now, no Manager ever ventured to ask him his line of work. No one ever asked why he sat - where he sat. The management tried calling all resources they hired from, only to realize he was never on any of their rolls.
Sitting in his villa somewhere on the coast of Goa, is a bloke who had strategically planned his retirement and been managing a Fund, estimated at 10 Million and still counting as he gulped his Feni'.

And no one even knew his whereabouts or his name.
 

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