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Wednesday 16 April 2014

CHANDU BABU KE JOOTE

chandu babu's shoes
(चन्दू बाबू के जूते)

He had held the newspaper-wrapped packet close to his chest all the way to Hazratgunj during that half an hour ride in the green auto-rikshaw. It was quite hot that late april evening.

Weaving impatiently  through the jaywalkers in Hazratgunj, he arrived out of breath at the air-conditioned shoe-store and proceeded to the cash counter. The sales manager was attending to a lady and he waited.

The manager turned to him with a clinical smile after handing over the cash receipt to the lady.

"These are the shoes I bought only three months back", he complained in his typical nasal tone as he unwrapped the packet, "and look here! The left shoe upper is already losing shape."

The manager closely inspected the soles and the uppers and frowned. These shoes had been very roughly used without much polishing and the soles were wearing out fast.

" Yes there is a slight stretching in the upper leather here", the manager observed.  "It happens on account of the way one walks and with constant heavy use. The shoe is strong. No problem!".

Chandu babu was not prepared for this kind of a "no problem" response. The problem was certainly there and this fool was taking it lightly ! He had expected that his shoes would be promptly replaced with brand new shoes. When he suggested a replacement the manager raised his eyebrows, gave a mocking smile and told him that it was absolutely out of the question.

"There is no such provision", he emphatically said, " After all, it is heavily used pair with no warranty period at all". And then he ignored him completely and turned to attend to another customer who had, meanwhile, materialised at the counter.

Chandu Babu was a weather-beaten secretariat bird who had been  waging wars on files for donkeys years. "Usko file par aisaa mara... (I gave the bloke such a hiding on a file) ki vo zindagi bhar yaad rakkhega ( that he will not forget it for the rest of his life"  this he used to say and he firmly believed that " the pen is mightier than the sword". Here he saw an opening of another paper-war coming and was fully prepared for it.The next day he opened a brand new file marked "Replacement of shoes" on the cover and shot out a long letter in Queen's english (marking it IMMEDIATE) to the Head Office of the shoe company in Calcutta. He highlighted the irresponsible attitude of shop manager in Hazratgunj and asked for a quick replacement of shoes in order to  "save the reputation of your famous company".

The reply was prompt and business like.

"We regret that as a matter of policy a replacement for a used pair of shoes is not done by the company in the normal course of business. However, If you still so wish, you may send the shoes to us for our inspection entirely at your own cost and risk.If the problem is related to any manufacturing defect, the shoes can be replaced"

He was happily sipping tea on return from office when I visited him that evening.

" Good news !" he exclaimed and showed me the letter. That day he gave me two big pieces of sweets in addition to tea.

"If they simply return your old shoes, that will be a waste of substantial money on a two-way parcel. I don't think they are not going to replace these shoes", I said . His facial expression changed and showed that he did not relish my remarks. He  looked at the two chunks of sweets in my plate and seemed to regret having given them to me. I hurriedly ate them to pre-empt any move to deprive me of the sweets!

The next day I was at the main post office for buying postage stamps when I spotted him coming out of a crowded counter. He had already parcelled the shoes and was excitedly waving the post-office receipt at me.

"I will phone you when the new shoes arrive. I am now getting late" , he shouted as he rushed to his office.

The phone call came after two weeks.

"Come to my place in the evening. I will open the new shoes' parcel only in your presence. I am bringing kaju-mithai (cashew-sweets) and hot samosas for you."

These milk-based sweets were my weakness!

The unopened big packet  of cashew sweets was lying on the central glass-topped table as I settled in an easy chair in his drawing room in the evening. I was only a few moments away from gala feast !

"Relax before you eat these sweets and hot samosas. Tea is getting ready. I will now bring the parcel and wear the new shoes" he said as he dashed inside.

He returned with the shoe-parcel.

Then he proceeded to carefully untie lot of tapes around the parcel. It took some  time.My eyes were rivetted on the shoe parcel. Finally he removed the last wrap with a dramatic flourish and a shout of "here it is".

There was nothing "here". It was an absolute anticlimax ! His dirty old pair of shoes were on display before us, all the worse in condition because of lot of mishandling ! And there was a short curt note with it stating "No manufacturing defect at all. shoes herewith returned to the sender."

There was an uneasy silence for a long time. Then he quietly got up and went inside, carrying the big packet of cashew sweets with him.

I waited for some time and was getting up to go when his wife entered the drawing room .

"He was very tired and has gone to sleep" she announced.

I came out. I could do nothing for him after this fiasco.

When I next went to him after a month he was wearing brand new shoes of a Kanpur based company. He told me that he had now boycotted that Calcutta shoe company for ever and thrown out those shoes.

Then he pointed to the  mini lawn outside his window. There I saw his two cats using his abandoned old shoes as cushions as they stared at me defiantly !! ( see the photographs)

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(Note: This story is NOT a work of fiction. However, the script has, as usual, been redesigned to protect privacy issues of people connected.)









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