The matter of keenness
Mr Santhanam was observing the ant quite keenly this morning, he had all the time in the world from now on having retired from the government service only a month back. He worked in the income tax, in the same office - in the same building as a matter of fact – for forty years without a break. He was known for his disciplined and meticulous nature, never late to the work nor any absentism or any negative remark against him. All the work from his desk proceeded in a clockwork precision. Every morning he came out of the main door of his home and wait for his wife to bring the lunch box at the porch that was then lowered for him to grab, he left the gate at sharp eight. It took him forty five minutes by chartered bus to reach the office, earlier it used to take half an hour but increasing traffic caused the delay nevertheless he was well before the office time. His first task before settling down for the day was to order hot coffee from the canteen, the coffee dutifully finished in about five minutes, he was preparing the agenda for the day, underlining outstanding issues and grading into matter of importance. At sharp one o clock he is standing to stretch himself and maybe few words of courtesy to the colleagues as he washed his hands for the lunch. During lunch they exchanged their thoughts on the matters of the day or some events in the newspaper or almost always some gossip about other sections of the department and so on. Santhanam contributed his thoughts wherever needed but mostly he kept to himself. By two everyone was back to their respective desks. Any doubts and clarification on the matters of work were almost always directed to Santhanam who in turn was ready with an elaborate reply. In one instance he was even specially acknowledged by the Director. He recollects it as if it happened only the other day. He had spotted a serious case of tax evasion that went unnoticed for years. Director came all the way to his desk to shake hands and say “we are proud of you”, that probably was his most memorable day in his life. Sharp six he is back in his home, a coffee later he goes out for a brisk walk. An hour later he is going through the daily newspaper or some magazine, subsequently some pending office work. He is having dinner watching Television while his wife narrates to him the happenings of the day at family front. Their son is settled in US so any news or mail would be discussed. By ten he is fast asleep.
For last few weeks he has been having trouble sleeping. It became natural for him to get up late into night and sit by the books and hanging photographs. Sometimes he slept on his chair woken up by morning crows so he sneaked back into his bed. He was ready by eight and sat at his study table not knowing what to do or anticipate. He shook his legs cleared the speck of dust on the table with his hand kerchief and fold it back neatly to his pocket. That is when he spotted the black ant- a solitary black ant, probably stranded from its colony or on a probing mission. It stretched its body towards him as if sniffing. Santhanam carefully guided it to his hand and to his palm, and brought it closer very near to his eyes. He was fascinated. The skeletal legs rubbed against each other and the antennae as if the creature too is trying its best to sense its surrounding. Santhanam took out the magnifying lens from the inside of his drawer. He held it against the ant and saw it grow into a giant. The sight was beholding. The ant resembled an alien, mandible sharper than he imagined. Next few days Santhanam was studying about ants, he bought all kinds of books from every store in the city on ants he could lay his hands on. He scribbled few notes in a book that he thought gave significant insight into the understanding of ants. Next afternoon he was in the garden searching for them, later he was tracing the trail of ants to its nest. He was out late in the night with his torch searching for ant trails in the neighbours’ compound. Suspicious watchman apprehended him, not knowing who he was the watchman tied him to the pole and raised the alarm. When residents surrounded him he was in his crumpled pyjamas scratching his body and mumbling “its ants all over me”. It’s been a year since that incident Santhanam gets up every night complaining of ants all over his body.
Mr Santhanam was observing the ant quite keenly this morning, he had all the time in the world from now on having retired from the government service only a month back. He worked in the income tax, in the same office - in the same building as a matter of fact – for forty years without a break. He was known for his disciplined and meticulous nature, never late to the work nor any absentism or any negative remark against him. All the work from his desk proceeded in a clockwork precision. Every morning he came out of the main door of his home and wait for his wife to bring the lunch box at the porch that was then lowered for him to grab, he left the gate at sharp eight. It took him forty five minutes by chartered bus to reach the office, earlier it used to take half an hour but increasing traffic caused the delay nevertheless he was well before the office time. His first task before settling down for the day was to order hot coffee from the canteen, the coffee dutifully finished in about five minutes, he was preparing the agenda for the day, underlining outstanding issues and grading into matter of importance. At sharp one o clock he is standing to stretch himself and maybe few words of courtesy to the colleagues as he washed his hands for the lunch. During lunch they exchanged their thoughts on the matters of the day or some events in the newspaper or almost always some gossip about other sections of the department and so on. Santhanam contributed his thoughts wherever needed but mostly he kept to himself. By two everyone was back to their respective desks. Any doubts and clarification on the matters of work were almost always directed to Santhanam who in turn was ready with an elaborate reply. In one instance he was even specially acknowledged by the Director. He recollects it as if it happened only the other day. He had spotted a serious case of tax evasion that went unnoticed for years. Director came all the way to his desk to shake hands and say “we are proud of you”, that probably was his most memorable day in his life. Sharp six he is back in his home, a coffee later he goes out for a brisk walk. An hour later he is going through the daily newspaper or some magazine, subsequently some pending office work. He is having dinner watching Television while his wife narrates to him the happenings of the day at family front. Their son is settled in US so any news or mail would be discussed. By ten he is fast asleep.
For last few weeks he has been having trouble sleeping. It became natural for him to get up late into night and sit by the books and hanging photographs. Sometimes he slept on his chair woken up by morning crows so he sneaked back into his bed. He was ready by eight and sat at his study table not knowing what to do or anticipate. He shook his legs cleared the speck of dust on the table with his hand kerchief and fold it back neatly to his pocket. That is when he spotted the black ant- a solitary black ant, probably stranded from its colony or on a probing mission. It stretched its body towards him as if sniffing. Santhanam carefully guided it to his hand and to his palm, and brought it closer very near to his eyes. He was fascinated. The skeletal legs rubbed against each other and the antennae as if the creature too is trying its best to sense its surrounding. Santhanam took out the magnifying lens from the inside of his drawer. He held it against the ant and saw it grow into a giant. The sight was beholding. The ant resembled an alien, mandible sharper than he imagined. Next few days Santhanam was studying about ants, he bought all kinds of books from every store in the city on ants he could lay his hands on. He scribbled few notes in a book that he thought gave significant insight into the understanding of ants. Next afternoon he was in the garden searching for them, later he was tracing the trail of ants to its nest. He was out late in the night with his torch searching for ant trails in the neighbours’ compound. Suspicious watchman apprehended him, not knowing who he was the watchman tied him to the pole and raised the alarm. When residents surrounded him he was in his crumpled pyjamas scratching his body and mumbling “its ants all over me”. It’s been a year since that incident Santhanam gets up every night complaining of ants all over his body.
