The Purple Pen

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…