Rakesh

Utility men are available in plenty. As per the law of economics, whenever a thing is available in plenty, it's value depreciates. Hence, importance of a utility man is not much than another insignificant mortal. Rakesh is one of such men. In the morning he cleans the cars and bikes in my apartments. For the rest of the day, he irons clothes. If required, he lends his services as household labour. On every Thursday (in his lingo ब्रिस्पतिबार), he takes a weekly off. Everyday, same routine; without fail, year over year.

As an unwritten yet accepted axiom, no labour intensive job gets well paid. In other words, payment is commensurate to the use of brain, excluding, of course, the Indian IT MNCs. Once, I quizzed him over the monthly charges for cleaning my bike. He quoted, 100. I had found even that unworthy for the job. As I am the sole occupant, the need to keep the bike polished - i.e., impressive - wasn't (alas, isn't) high in my list. A fortnight after I occupied the apartments, I notified the security guards for informing the maids and utility men for domestic paraphernalia. They pointed at Rakesh, who was ironing clothes with his coal iron. The sight of the coal powered iron miffed me. A few years back, my clothes were perforated due to similar variety of iron. The guard added, that he probably charges 5/- per set of clothes. Exorbitant, I concluded instantly and proscribed myself from employing him to iron my clothes. While I had gone gaga over rising inflation - it increase the dearness allowance component - now I cursed it wholeheartedly.

Couple of months later, my iron broke down. Grudgingly, I had to revert to Rakesh. One evening, I strolled to his workplace. It was nothing more than a rudimentary wooden platform, probably, a makeover table constructed of thrown away wooden pieces. I offloaded the pile of 18 clothes and requested to deliver by next evening. He swung his head in affirmation, accompanied with his ubiquitous grin. Next evening, he presented himself with the clothes; neatly tucked in the cavity of his folded hands and painfully protruding ribcage. As I opened the door, he again sported a ear to ear grin and stuffed the clothes in my hands. I enquired for the amount. 'जित्ते कपडे उत्तेइच पैसे! और का ?', was his innocent reply. I stared at him, rather in disbelief. I fumbled with my wallet, picked two 10 notes and kept in his hands. He started to search for the change. I asked him to balance it next time. He smiled, and left. Closing the door, I cursed the guard. While placing the clothes in the wardrobe, I audited the quality. The job was done nicely. In vain, I thought as I fumed, I was ironing the clothes for so long.

Another day, I inquired him where he bought the coal from. He quoted names of some nearby villages and deliberated on the path to reach there. On my further prodding, he disclosed that the coal comes for 14/- to 18/- a Kg. He also shared that he polishes 20 vehicles every morning. Brief calculations revealed that total income must not be exceeding 5000 or 6000 a month. On that, he was supporting a family of 4. The wife helped him in ironing. The kids, being too young, were worthless, at least from financial perspective. Even when I live alone and don't spare a penny for my parents - father doesn't (and will never) need - my monthly expense exceed Rakesh's total income. I live with a grudge that I earn abysmal and confide with my colleagues that our management must be 'managing' the Best Places to Work trophy every year. This utility man, however, earns trifles in comparison to me, yet, his face has a intriguing tranquil. I never discovered him in sorrow, ever! He doesn't hide anything under the sheath of his smile. He doesn't have anything to! His eyes doesn't exude the characteristic plaintiveness commonly prevalent in such men. Rakesh hasn't read any ancient scriptures, still, he has discovered - perhaps ingeniously - that, relinquishing desires rewards happiness.