Over a period of time, I've picked up certain favourites - so, I've my favourite bakery, favourite grocer, favourite petrol bunk etc - that I frequent. The favourable feedback from friends and the services that these outlets provide, along with the quality and the right quantitiy of their wares, have endeared themselves to me. Not to forget - another important factor - their proximity either to my residence or the workplace. In other words, easy accessibility and the ability to park the vehicle comfortably add to the attraction!
The Indian Oil petrol bunk, near my work place, is a case in point. Prompt service and smiling attendants make the experience of fuelling a pleasant one. And in the course of my numerous visits, I've befriended many of the boys who put in the fuel. One among them is the ever smiling Thomas, who'd always have something to tell me, at times something to ask me and would crisply carry out the routine of filling up fuel followed by checking of tyre pressure - in that order or vice versa, depending on the number of customers that he's catering for at that point of time - never once losing his smile nor losing out on the thread of conversation that he'd begun.
It was during my visit to the bunk, last week, that he'd talked about a problematic toe of his. His right foot had accidentally hit a stone and he'd been nursing the injury with home made remedies without much success, as the pain had begun to bother him. To make matters worse, he's badly diabetic. One look at his toe had confirmed my worst fears - he'd gotten late to go to the doctor! The toe had already attained a bluish hue! When queried as to why he'd delayed his visit to the doctor, he cited two reasons with a disarming candour:-
(a) the bunk was facing shortage of working hands and therefore, his going away on leave would put
the organisation in a tight spot.
(b) the owner and his boss, was a nice person and he did not want to antagonise him.
While his dedication to work was noteworthy, I chided him for not taking care of his health and warned him that I'd hit him the next time I came by, if he hadn't visited the doctor by then. His answer was typical - to coin a word to suit the occasion, 'Thomasish' - and I quote, "Sir, you might just do that during your next visit for I can't figure out as to when I can find time".
This morning, I'd driven into the bunk to find the smiling visage of Thomas missing. On my query, his colleague'd said that Thomas was in deep trouble as his toe has been surgically removed.
Tailpiece.
I was engulfed in an enormous, overwhelming sadness..... Thomas, why were you late?
The Indian Oil petrol bunk, near my work place, is a case in point. Prompt service and smiling attendants make the experience of fuelling a pleasant one. And in the course of my numerous visits, I've befriended many of the boys who put in the fuel. One among them is the ever smiling Thomas, who'd always have something to tell me, at times something to ask me and would crisply carry out the routine of filling up fuel followed by checking of tyre pressure - in that order or vice versa, depending on the number of customers that he's catering for at that point of time - never once losing his smile nor losing out on the thread of conversation that he'd begun.
It was during my visit to the bunk, last week, that he'd talked about a problematic toe of his. His right foot had accidentally hit a stone and he'd been nursing the injury with home made remedies without much success, as the pain had begun to bother him. To make matters worse, he's badly diabetic. One look at his toe had confirmed my worst fears - he'd gotten late to go to the doctor! The toe had already attained a bluish hue! When queried as to why he'd delayed his visit to the doctor, he cited two reasons with a disarming candour:-
(a) the bunk was facing shortage of working hands and therefore, his going away on leave would put
the organisation in a tight spot.
(b) the owner and his boss, was a nice person and he did not want to antagonise him.
While his dedication to work was noteworthy, I chided him for not taking care of his health and warned him that I'd hit him the next time I came by, if he hadn't visited the doctor by then. His answer was typical - to coin a word to suit the occasion, 'Thomasish' - and I quote, "Sir, you might just do that during your next visit for I can't figure out as to when I can find time".
This morning, I'd driven into the bunk to find the smiling visage of Thomas missing. On my query, his colleague'd said that Thomas was in deep trouble as his toe has been surgically removed.
Tailpiece.
I was engulfed in an enormous, overwhelming sadness..... Thomas, why were you late?
No comments:
Post a Comment