Forever young, courtesy forged certificates

The date of birth is an important qualification for any government job. But many a times one comes across people who defy all norms pertaining to age, advertently or inadvertently.

During my teaching days, I had seen Class IV employees, who stuck to their guns (read jobs) despite their advanced age. They seemed to have got their birth certificate manipulated by village authorities, which gave them a longer time to remain in service. An old peon who found it difficult to do any job, was made to attend to the college gas-plant where he would keep sitting the whole day, doing nothing.

Then there was this woman

peon Krishna (name changed), a perennial presence, half bent, dragging her feet around. She was transferred from one department to another, from the library to the labs. But complaints against her inability to do anything properly would mean that she would be back in the staff room. Here most errands were non-official such as serving water, going to the canteen to order tea, ringing the bell and getting notices signed by the staff. Still she would falter at these.

Sometimes while taking class, the bell would suddenly ring in the middle of the time allotted. It would create a commotion in the college. We would wonder if there was an emergency and if the classes had to be dispersed. When confronted, Krishna would say with a smile, “Madam ji, I was going to order tea; I thought who will come back for the bell so why not ring it on my way to the canteen.” Knowing her condition, she would be let off with a mild reprimand.

Since she couldn’t read, she would never come to know who all were left to sign a particular notice. When she would get a call from the office to submit the notice with all signatures done; in panic she would come to us requesting to tell her which staff members were left. We would not only tell her the names, but also the places where those teachers could be found as many teachers didn’t visit the staff room and preferred to stay in their departments. Next, she would ask, “What does he/she look like?”

Once she went to a department and asked a senior teacher, a Sikh gentleman, “Sir ji, are you Mrs. Sharma?” Amused, he said, “Yes, I’m Mrs Sharma.” “Sir ji principal madam has called you.” He went to the principal and narrated the incident. Within minutes, the joke spread like wildfire in the college.

With the passage of time, Krishna found it difficult to walk around. Her rickshaw would drop her up to the portico meant for the principal’s car. How she had managed that, no one knew.

But the ultimate was when one morning she was distributing sweets among staff members. As I picked a piece from the box, she said, ‘Madam ji, congratulate me.” “Congratulations! What is the occasion?” “Yesterday, my son retired from his job.” “Oh I see and when are you going to retire?” “Lo ji (Look at that), I still have many more years left.”

THE BELL WOULD

RING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CLASS. IT WOULD CREATE A COMMOTION. WE WOULD WONDER IF THERE WAS AN EMERGENCY