“Raichand completed my performance appraisal yesterday,” Swami remarked while munching into his chocolate muffin at the cafe the other day. Jigneshbhai continued sipping his coffee. That irritated Swami no end.
“Hello, I said something,” he yelped.
I looked at Jigneshbhai to see if he reacts.
“Yes, of course I heard. How did it go?” he asked.
“Well, it was ok, nothing great,” Swami answered.
“Did he do it for others as well?” Jigneshbhai probed.
“Oh, yes, everyone in the office, including his blue-eyed boys,” Swami sneered with eyes rolling.
“Hmm..,” Jigneshbhai remarked, and then before Swami opened his mouth, he added with a sly mischievous smile, “How was it for others? Was it better than yours?”
Swami stopped short of speaking with his mouth agape. He gulped a morsel of the muffin and caught his breath. Jigneshbhai didn’t ask such direct questions, in general.
“For others? Well, some others got a better appraisal than me. Not some, many actually,” Swami remarked after some thought. And then he added, “Especially the ones close to the boss. You know how Raichand likes suckers. He has a few blue-eyed boys, you know that, right?”
Jigneshbhai picked up a piece of the muffin this time and stayed silent thereafter. We did know Raichand, Swami’s boss, and were well aware of his shenanigans. Swami, despite all his efforts hovering around multiple “Yes Sirs” in a day had again found someone in the office who ‘was better’ in the appraisal.
“So someone was better than you this year?” Jigneshbhai asked with a smirk.
“Yes,” Swami murmured. “Not someone, many,” he added.
“Is it so important?” Jigneshbhai, who had never been an employee with a regular job, asked.
“Is what so important?” Swami put a counter question with a scowl on his face.
“Being better than others in this appraisal?” Jigneshbhai asked.
Swami raised his eyebrows and had an uncharacteristic thoughtful expression for a few moments. “Well, not that I care. But it affects my bonus and increment,” Swami replied.
“Ahh. Ok.. And of course, I am sure it affects the ego as well,” Jigneshbhai added with a twinkle in his eye.
Swami raised his eyebrows again and twisted his mouth looking at me and Jigneshbhai. “Hmm. Yes,” Swami admitted.
I felt that this conversation between my friends, though fairly benign and docile on the surface, had all the undercurrents and makings of a potential typhoon. So I focused on my coffee and muffins.
“I wish I could help you feel better,” Jigneshbhai remarked out of the blue. “But I don’t know how, except offering you this muffin and a cold coffee,” he said.
Swami broke into a small grin though we knew that once a year this appraisal with Raichand always turned his mood sour. This race of being better was a never-ending one and honestly speaking, I felt there were no winners, only losers in it. But some things, one just lives with, I thought and enjoyed my coffee and muffins with my friends.
But then I noticed that the wealthy old man was staring at us from the adjoining table. He heard our conversation and walked up towards us in slow, silent steps. He put a hand on Swami’s shoulder and said, “”Don’t fret over being better, though sometimes it may matter.”
It didn’t help matters a lot as far as Swami’s mood was concerned. He then tapped him on the head and said, “I like a better being (than being better), like you – in spirit and letter.”
Let me just say that these lines from the wealthy old man left Swami, Jigneshbhai and me, or was it our beings, simply feeling better.
***