A day in the city office…
The afternoon dragged endlessly post lunch. Files were spread across
the large oval table, and we had our faces buried in the files rummaging
through a hoard of audit working papers. The only sounds were of the high ceiling
fan spinning slowly, occasionally making creaking noises, and the rustling of
papers. We looked up at the grandfather’s clock, then glanced wryly at each
other. The hands of the clock seemed frozen in place. Every few minutes we
looked up, convinced that at least 10 minutes would have passed. Usually only
2-3 mins had. It felt like the entire afternoon was set to slow motion. There
was a full hour to tea break, one that felt less of a routine break, and more
like a milestone.
At 20-something, I absolutely enjoyed being at the client’s
office doing audit work. There was energy all around, and a sense of purpose. For
a good six months in a year, I would be juggling between Airfreight, Corborundum
Universal and Binny audits. I enjoyed my time in my audit firm more than even in
college. But I did not enjoy this filing work, even knowing it was a one-off
project. But it was a rare occasion that almost all staff, 25+ in the Parrys
branch, were in the office at the same time. Most times the office remained
practically empty except for Kannan sir banging away on his Remington
typewriter. If he was not on his typewriter, he would be out buying lottery
tickets across the street. He truly believed he would hit the jackpot one day. We
occasionally dropped by to pick up files or complete time sheets, but otherwise
we were always in clients’ offices. But when we were in office, he had interesting
stories to tell us. Kannan sir was small in stature, was a cheerful soul and
always had a mischievous smile.
We were housed in the historical Binny building on Armenian
street in George Town. This was a heritage structure, built in 1812. There were
several divisions of Binny housed in that building -Shipping, Agencies,
Corporate and probably Real Estate too. Binny was one of our clients, and being
housed in the same building, we had access to every nook and corner of the
building. It was a maze of a building, with hidden staircases. One could easily
get lost. Everything in the building felt ancient. The furniture in our office
was made of rosewood and was heavy, and old. Courtesy Binny.
The silence was broken with the entry of energetic Kumar anna
who served tea and coffee twice a day. He was always in and out like a sudden
gust of wind. Everyone was relieved, and there was instant chattering of
voices. Tea and coffee were served. The quantity was barely sufficient to wet
our throats, but it was still a much-needed distraction from an otherwise
mundane afternoon. I was always amused by the midget-sized ‘tumbler’ which
contained the thick and sweet concoction, aka filter coffee. While an
absolute chai enthusiast, when it came to choosing between chai and filter
coffee, the filter coffee won hands down.
At the time, there was nothing remarkable about any of it. It
was just another day at work. Years later, I realized I had unknowingly been
part of the closing chapter of a vanished era, sadly. My office on Armenian
street, the Binny building, they no longer exist. The typewriter and the paper
files have fallen out of favor and lost their battle with digital technology. The
typewriters, though, have found respect and an alternative home in museums. Mercifully,
the loyal, stubborn filter coffee continues to hold its own against the tide of
fashionable lattes, matchas and bobas.
Circa 1995
To be continued…
