The security agency owner looked at my small-sized clinic and decided to send Raju, the thinnest man on his staff. Without the official blue dress, slightly oversized, and the customary cap displaying the name of his agency, no one would even have a hint of suspicion that Raju was a security guard. In this era, where unhappy patients and their attendants do not think of taking civilised and legal routes but go straight to either punch the staff, hit the doctor, break windows, or destroy the furniture, I must say I was a little disappointed. I expected a fuller version of the human species that would generate fear and respect. Like those bouncers with biceps bursting through the tight T-shirts at wedding receptions throwing people off the stage. But that did not happen.
The security-in-charge noticed my disappointment and consoled me by saying that the frail person was a graduate but had failed to obtain any jobs. He was also a part-time electrician and might be of use in the hospital and at home. That has been thoroughly demonstrated over the years. Whenever there is an electrical breakdown, he is ready with his small set of instruments to set things right. Over the years, I realized that his greatest strength was in keenly observing people and then quickly learning the art and science of their trade. He has the habit of unobtrusively observing people at work that does not arouse suspicion.
He watched the AC cleaning once, and now he cleans them before the summer season, and we don’t have to spend a bomb on the thugs doubling as AC technicians who come to do this work. Another time, he watched a mason doing plastering work on the chipped wall. Today, he applies putty, plaster, and paint wherever is necessary in my house or the clinic. Raju paints the terrace with white cement paint during hot summers; fixes the plumbing lines when they start leaking; repairs the gas stove; makes the cupboard doors align; sets straight the conked-out X-ray viewing box; fixes the commode when unknown leaks develop; does gardening and watering of plants; cleans the overhead water tanks; expertly sticks the floor paper; gets the best vegetables and fruits from the market; plucks the best flowers for pooja purposes; repairs chairs when they lose their springs; stitches up the sofa covers when they develop tears; reaches the remotest areas of our attics; decorates the house with lights during Diwali; keeps the clinic clean when the domestic aid takes her leave; manages the pharmacy when the pharmacist goes on leave; manages the outpatients when the nurse goes off on leave; autoclaves the instruments; fumigates the theater before surgery; holds the patient for any local anaesthesia procedures; cleans the choked sewage drain during rains; repairs the water vending machine when it breaks down; repairs the cautery unit; and fixes the OT lights. This is only a part of what he does or can do.
A wandering group of monkeys intermittently invade our house, and there are monkeys here, there, and everywhere during such disturbing times. The municipality people switch off their telephones, and who else comes to save us? Raju comes with a single stick and drives all the monkeys away. Occasionally, a group of random stray dogs find shelter outside my gate. Raju is at it again, and he shoos away the dogs while we watch in amazement and a little bit of fear. Bees find a place close to our windows suitable to build their beautiful hives, and it is Raju again who saves the day.
He will fix the TV, apply varnish to the doors, repair the curtains, set the damaged CCTV cameras right, repair the printing machine, repair mobile phones, pay the electricity and water bills, replace the water in the solar batteries, and on and on. Whenever I look at any object in my house or clinic, I can be sure that Raju has been there at some point. If anything around us in the human, plant, and material world does not stick to its order in the cosmos, we first ask him whether he can do it. Most times, we receive an affirmative response. See once, learn, and start doing it. That is his core mantra.
The list never ends for this Superman who can do everything and anything. Most of the times, we forget that he is primarily a security guard. Before the word “slave” escapes the reader’s mind, Raju is just intensely passionate about learning and implementing the various arts. He is not perfect, of course, but he has been a saviour in many critical times, of which I have lost count.
I am only a bit wary when he intensely watches me operate on children. In all likelihood, he might have learnt a few of my tricks too. I keep him away from seeing too much and sternly ask him to look the other way while helping me out during the minor operations. He is certainly omniscient and omnipresent, and today, our family cannot imagine a life without him.
The only person who matches the same powers, according to my better half, is her brother. Incidentally, my dear brother-in-law also shares the same name. Many times, there has been confusion when we discuss the outstanding superpowers of Raju, as it is unclear whether we are referring to my staff member or my brother-in-law. In Hindi, there’s an idiom that says the entire cosmos and the brother-in-law balance each other on a weighing scale. For me, my security, Raju, sits on one side, and the brother-in-law sits on the other, perfectly balancing each other. My wife says that the latter weighs a bit more, of course. I agree with her outwardly, but inwardly and secretly, I disagree because I know for sure that my Raju weighs a lot more. He is in the zone of Superman, Batman, Iron Man, and all the superheroes who combine the best of humans, beasts, and the periodic table elements.
Recently, news about this superman in my precincts has spread, and I have noticed jealous competitors lurking in disguises around the dark corners of my house. I am extremely careful these days and have placed missiles and landmines around my house to prevent any poachers from kidnapping our amazing Raju. Anyway, we are ready to conquer the world with Raju on our side, and it is our most important obsession to keep him satisfied. Monetarily, of course, we are kind, but we serve his littlest medical and other sundry needs by dropping everything and rushing to keep him happy. He has his moods and does threaten occasionally to leave us, and the family goes down on all fours to beg, cry, and plead to stay, and he condescends. Move aside the Rambos and the Jeeves of the fictional and mythical world; the one-man army exists as an absolute fact in the flesh and blood of our Raju. And yes, appearances can be deceptive.
RANDOM MUSINGS 