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Year 2001

There used be one Mr. Yadav in the office where I worked soon after I passed out of my design school. I was never quite clear about which department Mr. Yadav worked in. from 10 to 12 he would sit in the production department screaming at the new managers, none of which I tried to figure out. Thankfully I had to sit in another room in another department--the design department, of course. I always tip-toed into the production department when I had to xerox anything. the whole office had to go there if they wanted to xerox anything. those were the times I pretended not to hear, but heard, pretended not to see but saw the manager's face changing colours with the tone of Mr Yadav's speech. if it was another time of the day, when Yadav idled, he would monitor the people at the xerox machine. He checked what was being xeroxed and asked several questions about them. he would refuse to believe that one needed multiple xeroxes of the same design to create one perfect repeat.
The design department was a happy one, when Yadav didn't visit it. he seldom visited it. the department had 4 desks. In front of me sat my classmate Sumit who took care of all the merchandising. I watched him sweet-talk the merchandisers at buying houses over phone for a into giving him date extension. Later I realised he also sweet-talked Kirti, his present wife.
Kirti's desk was right next to mine, she looked after the leather design department. along with her talent in design she was the complete opposite of Sumit. She was originally from Varanasi and she could never bring even her rudest remarks without the 'Aap' and 'Hum'. Sumit on the other hand could never rise above 'Tu'
the fourth desk was jinxed. people appointed at that desk could never make it longer than 2 months. people for the 4th desk were often interviewed by Yadav during recruitment and that explained the congenital fear and whatever chaos followed in their lives.
It was the fault of Yadav's genes. Otherwise the man was handsome (in his community of Jats), he was disciplined (he told us) and had the right to abuse anyone any old how. He was confident about these three and he managed to convince our lady boss about them somehow. she got busy tinkering with my sketch of a frog which to her looked like a bird.
One winter morning Yadav made a thunderous appearance in our department. I had begun to settle down with a few books, Kirti was still panting because she had to hurry and a minute later would have seen half a day's salary vanish into thin air. Sumit always came early and was scratching his head over some shipment or perhaps it was his dandruff. In the presence of Mr Yadav not only did everyone stop functioning voluntarily but so did their brains. Sometimes the bowels decided to overwork too. On this day, Mr Yadav demanded that everyone were to give rs 800 every month to him in cash. those who could , should do so immediately.

someone had to dare to ask and and Kirti did. She asked him what this was about. He explained in the same thundering and rough voice, as if god had run out of sandpaper when he came to Yadav. He explained this was tax deduction. since the company never deducted our TDS, we must hand it over to him and we will shall soon be asked to fill out the forms. Kirti sighed and handed over the bills. I was shocked. Sumit and I excused ourselves by postponing it to the next day. we needed time to think. Sumit would think of something by then.
The next morning Yadav came back even before we had settled down. He asked for the money. my eyes blurred, and my head swam to see Sumit giving him the money with a smile on his face. Everything became a movie in fast forward. this was happening very fast. the pictures moved with animated speed, voices became comical cackles and I heard him again.
'And you?' he said.
I replied looking at my feet ' I will not pay'
He barked... 'WHAT'
And I repeated looking into his eyes, 'I will not give the money'
' You wont pay taxes?', He growled
' I don't need to, I don't earn as much. my earnings don't make a taxable amount. and it will be nil since I am a woman', I said

I saw him search his brains, mumbling to it and leaving with a hateful look in his eyes
That was the first day I realised my default state – fearless

even when my heart beat was 140, my face was red and hot and my feet shaking, i wasn't scared. with Yadav I couldn't fight my second case. He accused me of vanishing with two colleagues to nowhere on a day when everyone gathered at the bosss house for a ceremony. the house was on such location that it was a miracle that we managed to return at least. I was asked to write an apology letter if wanted to continue working. which I clearly refused to and I was asked to leave.
months later Yadav was brought to his senses by a bottle of whiskey, or by the prank his victims played. He drank till he swayed, and then proudly pledged to kill the boss and her husband and then take away their property. This he pledged in front of 50 people in a party at the boss's home.

Pragati Maidan fair grounds the boss offered her id card so that I didn't need to pay at the entrance.
What happened of Yadav no one knows