The Application

Dr. D. Ramakrishna

It was mid-summer and there was some vehicular traffic but much less pedestrian movement on the main road of Vigyanpuri.

Suresh was walking on the pavement with a file in his hand. There was anxiety visible on his face. He just came from his village by bus, but did not go to his cousin’s place as he would often do.

Even though he took M.A. degree in Economics five years ago, he couldn’t get a job.

As Suresh was walking, a former classmate Vinay was calling him from behind.

“Hello, Suresh, how do you do? It’s long since we met,” said Vinay. “It’s a pleasant surprise to see you after a long time. Where are you going?

“I’m going to the MLA Pradeep Kumar’s house,” said Suresh.

“Why?” asked Vinay.

“For a letter of recommendation for the position of Superintendent in the National Automobile Company,” said Suresh. “You know it’s a big company with countrywide network and they pay well.”

“But are you sure of getting the MLA’s recommendation?” asked Vinay with some curiosity.

“He was my father’s old student in the high school,” said Suresh. “Father said Pradeep Kumar would surely help me.”

“Pradeep Kumar has no such sentiments,” said Vinay. “He of course indulges in pious platitudes in his public lectures on the Teacher’s day. In politics only money matters, but not sentiment.”

They walked for a while and reached the street where the MLA’s house was situated.

“O.K., Suresh,” said Vinay. All the best. We will meet again in a few days.”

As Vinay left, Suresh wondered whether there was any truth in his friend’s words. But he walked down the street without losing hope and reached the MLA’s house. There were many people in the waiting room. Pradeep Kumar was away to attend an important official function, he was told.

After two hours the MLA came and looked at the visitors and greeted them with folded hands. After the man went inside, Suresh sent his father’s letter to Pradeep Kumar. He had to wait for an hour to be called in.

“I’m Suresh, son of Narayana Murthy teacher, sir,” said Suresh. “My father asked me to give this letter to you.” So saying, Suresh gave the letter to the MLA who took it, looked at it, and kept it on his desk.

Suresh was surprised at Pradeep Kumar’s indifference even though his father told him that the man had great regard for him.

Suresh told the MLA about the vacancy in the National Automobile Company and requested a letter of recommendation.

“Oh, you are Narayana Murthy sir’s son? How are you?” said Pradeep Kumar. “Of course, I would like to help you. There’s no need for any letter. I will speak to them.”

Suresh attended the interview at the Company’s office along with twenty one candidates. He was hopeful of getting the job. But he did not get any letter from the Company even after three weeks.

After a month, Suresh went to Vinay’s house to find out if he came from Hyderabad where he was working in a Generator manufacturing company.

As suresh entered the house, Vinay said, “I came last evening on a month’s leave. I am sorry, I came to know that Pradeep Kumar took several thousand rupees from a candidate and got the job for him.”

Since Vinay was going out, both of them walked together. It was a pleasant evening. He wanted to cheer up his friend who was apparently depressed.

After walking on the main road by the canal passing through the heart of the town, they reached Hotel Vasanth Vihar, their favourite resort for years. And they sat at a table overlooking the highway and the canal.

“Don’t worry, Suresh,” said Vinay. These things happen in life. Try again and again until you succeed. Look at my own situation. In spite of a degree in Mechanical Engineering, I had to wait for three years to get a Supervisor’s position in a private Generator manufacturing company”.

“Well, I have got used to these things for five years,” said Suresh. “After M.A., I registered at the local Employment Exchange, sent out scores of applications for jobs. Everywhere I was told that the post was already meant for somebody else. But there would be elaborate procedures of call letters, selection committees, interviews. What a mockery of procedures!”

“When we do not have any political Godfather, we can’t help struggling,” said Vinay. “And we cannot be upstarts by playing the Caste card either. Anyway, forget about these things, Suresh.”

In the meantime, the waiter brought coffee. Sipping the coffee, Vinay pointed out to the scene in front of the hotel, and said: “Blessed indeed was our boyhood, when we were in the school, playing football on the playground in the evenings and taking long walks on the canal bank.”

The two friends looked thoughtfully into the distant horizon. The rows of coconut and plantain trees on either side of the wide canal passing through the heart of the town as foreground to the rising concrete structures of modern times contributed to the beauty of the town.

“Yes, we were in blissful days then,” said Suresh. “Such occasional retrospection gives us solace in the present days.”

“We used to swim in the canal, watching the long boats ….sails drawn by boatmen with ropes and humming folk songs reminisced Vinay. “It was so delightful!”

“But can we ever regain the Paradise Lost?”

Since they were at the table in the hotel for more than an hour, coming out, they walked towards their homes.

A month later, Suresh was sitting alone in the front room of the tiled house in the village, reading the morning newspaper. He heard the sound of a motor cycle and looked out. Vinay got off his bike and came into the house.

“Hello Suresh, here’s another opportunity for you,” said Vinay. “There’s a vacancy for a clerk’s position in the Venus Commercial Bank in Vigyananpuri. Why don’t you try? You should first buy an application form to appear for a written test and interview.”

After some time, Vinay left for the town. Suresh started thinking about what his friend said. Determined to try his luck again, he collected whatever money he had, and left for Vigyanpuri.

Getting off the bus at a place near the Bank, he was walking towards it.

“Suresh,” he heard a feeble voice. Suresh turned back and saw his classmate Chari in the high school. Chari was looking shattered.

“How are you, Chari?” said Suresh. “You look so disturbed.”

“Suresh, I’m ashamed of approaching you again.” Chari said. “You already helped me with clothes and money so many times.” Chari was shedding tears.

“What happened to you, speak,” said Suresh, holding his boyhood friend by the shoulders.

“I’m asking you for money again…this time to take my wife on her last journey,” said Chari, sobbing.

Suresh was agitated. He had known Chari’s family since school days. Despite poverty, Chari’s parents used to do odd jobs, bringing up their only son. In the school days, Chari was a good football player and he used to be jovial. After stopping his education halfway through the high school, he worked in a grocery shop to support his parents. After his marriage, his parents died. He lost his job and was being supported by his wife doing odd jobs in households in the town.

“What do you mean, Chari?” said Suresh.

“She was ailing for a long time. She died in the morning, leaving me to my fate. Will you give me money to buy firewood for her funeral? I assure you I will never ask you for anything again. I cannot live here with her memories. I will leave the town, Suresh,” said Chari with folded hands.

Suresh was stupefied. He took out hundred rupees he had with him, and keeping a few rupees enough for his bus journey home, he put the rest in the hands of Chari and comforted him, saying “Take it, my loss is much less than yours.”

As Chari walked away with deep gratitude visible on his face, Suresh could only mumble a few words: “Oh God, strange are yours ways. But my faith in you is not in vain. You will show me the road to success.”

And he walked towards the bus station forgetting about his application but with a deep feeling that he could respond to his friend’s last application.

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