The trainee assistant was confirmed after a year and the celebrations were on. The spirits were soaring and a lot of it flowing at the bar. As is expected of a “gentleman”- to wish the ladies, open the door for them and so on, the confirmed bachelor wanted to be a perfect host. So after fixing a drink for his boss and colleagues, he wanted to make sure that the ladies too were enjoying. So he refilled their glasses and tried to include them in this celebration. He sat there among the ladies and heard them chattering about their children. One said that their five-year-old is a fussy eater while the other replied that her eight-month-old was under the weather this morning. Here the bachelor piped “even my elder one is a fussy eater, although he is better than the younger one who is always troubling the elder”. The ladies stared in stunned silence. This was an awkward moment. To justify their reaction, I must clarify that this party was being hosted in the 1980s and Miss Universe Sushmita Sen’s victory (in the legal case of adoption by a single parent) was still due by 15 years.
This young lad in his early 20s had landed a year ago, with dreams in his eyes and aspirations to change the world. He came armed with two suitcases and the belief that he would make a difference. His keen eyes caught sight of a man dressed in English pants, holding a placard bearing his name. He went up to him and the driver introduced himself leading the bachelor to a Willy’s Jeep and thus began the journey towards the tea life. The drive was spectacular, with plenty of curves and bends and one could see the emerald green Teesta river flow by. It was dusk, in the month of July, the rain poured down. He enjoyed the greenery all around and the sight of the streams from the mountains, meandering into the Teesta river. The Jeep crossed the Coronation bridge and took a turn on the curvy road. The engine hiccuped and fell silent. The Jeep was still. The driver revved the engine many a time without succeeding. The bachelor looked at the driver and the driver gazed back. Now there was no way out but to push poor Mr Willy and pray that it would start.
The lad disembarked from the jeep and with all his might he pushed it forward while the driver sat and tried to get the engine to start. With a roar, Mr Willy came back to life. The lad jumped in, soaking wet, wiping his forehead and hoping that the rest of the journey would be relatively uneventful. They reached the bungalow after about an hour. The hot chicken pepper soup was more than a welcome treat. The year flew by cycling around the garden, learning about the plucking of tea leaves, planting of young tea, seeing to the irrigation, manufacturing in the factory, commissioning of diesel engine set called SKL and so on... He worked with all his earnestness and vigour. The working hours would be long and he missed his family and home.
Though he being the only bachelor on the estate, the wives of the executives spoiled him with all their baking. The smell of freshly baked food sslluuurrrrpp, I can certainly say is one of my favourite smells. They would send over chocolate cakes, pastry rolls, biryani and so forth. Sometimes he would even get invited to their home. Gradually he started bonding with his tea family. He would talk to his family through PBX which was a manual telephone exchange. He would tell his father that the evenings get very lonely. His father advised him to step up and face the challenges of life. That’s when I was adopted and a few months later my sibling with golden locks and drooping ears. We loved our new home.
One fine evening, he was called by his manager and his wife- who were compassionate and kind people- to hand over the confirmation letter, asking for a party to be thrown as celebrations were in order. The manager promptly sent him to the nearest town to purchase crockery, cutlery and the like in the garden lorry. Elated by the news, he began preparing for the party. The table was set, the drinks were arranged, floral arrangements made and music carefully selected. The guests soon started to arrive and within no time the party was in full swing. The bachelor, who had transformed into the perfect host for the night, was doing his best to entertain everyone, including chatting with the ladies about their kids.
Now, the ladies finally recovering from their shock coaxed him to introduce his young ones to them. That’s when we came out of the room with a twinkle in our eyes, wagging our tails, very happy to be a part of this celebration. The ladies scolded him affectionately for comparing their children to us but patted and cuddled us. I was called Silvy and my brother was called Goldy. We spent our time with this young cynophilist and remained faithful, loyal and protective towards him till our last breath. There are many more stories about us which you may get to hear soon. Until then,
Pawfully yours
Silvy
