Naseer Ahmad Khan
I hope the contents of this open letter will find you in the best of spirits. I invite your kind attention. I earnestly plead for your precious time. To begin on the note of festivity (Azadi Ka Amrit Mahotsav), let me extend you the congratulation of the 75th anniversary of the country’s independence – a moment of pride and celebration for the countrymen who, under the flourishing tree of democracy, we’re promised a dignified, hassle-free, harass -free life to the best of their potential. I must confess, I start with a bit of a nervy feeling. I am a government employee, and better to call it a government servant. Like other government servants, I ask myself; ought I to write or say anything that might offend my Boss? If the law has a provision for it? If it backfires? Like me, there are hundreds of such countrymen who have similar fears, unwanted fears, or genuine fears, and one can’t say with certainty. Fear not to cross a limit, not breach a protocol, not violate a CSR rule they respect and pledge to keep up! Subsequently, I think of another possibility. Seventy-five years under the democratic sun must give me that much energy, faith, and courage.
I began to explore the possibilities. Seventy-five years is really a lot of time for a system to evolve. India, of course, has evolved as a welfare model of democracy. It is the world’s largest democracy. In this capacity, I have another space as ‘a citizen of free India’. I have a right against the violation of a right. There must be a feeling that one can explore this right freely and without any fear. So, I decided to break the ice and split the beans.
In the welfare democratic government, public interest matters. Public opinion is respected. Whatever the government of the day brings out, it must be in the larger public interests. Probably with this wisdom and philosophy behind, your government issued an order of evaluating the employees through the Monthly Progress Monitoring Report (EPM). Every month the employee has to submit his/her report card or performance to be reviewed by the immediate officer or DDO, popularly known as the Boss. Irrespective of what the servant does, it has to pass through the judgment and evaluation of this Boss.
As a teacher, most of the entries in the EPM have no relevance to me. The irony is that my Boss has to evaluate me without any checks and balances. He would do it with all impartiality and professional honesty intact; it is a presumption. He would be objective and fair; it is the faith of the government behind him. What if he deviates from the norm, doesn’t love or admire, or is satisfied with his servant?
My Boss was under the belief that his subordinates would never come to know about their scores. He never knew it was a step taken by a welfare Government, and they won’t deprive the citizen; the right to know, the right to be informed. And when the cat was out of the bag, the Boss was caught at sixes and sevens when his diligent faculty humbly approached his office with a lot of queries about the scores. It was like blind hitting in a blind alley. Most of them were underrated despite the plethora of activities besides their routine classwork. One of them burst into tears. He failed. The red line against his performance despite having managed two national-level seminars during the month besides other assignments. Every day in the newspapers, there’s a space about the activity of the college. The Boss keeps clipping the cutting and enriches his personal photo gallery. How could such a wonderful faculty be underrated who each day manage a show for him?
But mine was a bigger predicament. There was a bigger question. The Boss had to face my quizzical eyes. He had rated me a zero, a non – performer, a zilche, a non-existing entity. I had taken the highest number of classes, yet all I could manage, a Zero. I had attended my duties with utmost regularity and punctuality, yet a Zero. I had completed a Refresher Course in the same month, yet a Zero. The Boss says, he doesn’t agree the data. I am regular, he doesn’t agree, I was a Superintendent of an examination centre and the examination was conducted in the same month, he doesn’t agree. I have completed a refresher course from Kashmir University, he doesn’t agree. I exist, probably he doesn’t agree. Could be because I don’t agree with many of his ethical habits that is why probably he doesn’t agree.
The hunt for the fault lines in my character failed as I behold another fellow with a more ominous Zero against his name. A man who has 30 years of service and three months to retire. An elderly person, humble and thorough professional gentleman, guarding and keeping the door of my Boss, waiting upon the pleasure of his orders, serving him tea and water, a peaceful man, past the age of argument, past dissent, past his ego. His eyes are like mini pools as tears trickle and wash down his sunken cheeks. He puts out his hand; an oval-shaped Zero strikes the eyes like a scorching scratch. Yes, his voice is flurried, as he, tongue-in-cheek, whispers a Zero. Why did he fail? Where did he fail? What was his fault? He doesn’t know. No one knows; even I fail to know. His wonder is greater than mine, his shock bigger, and his surprise larger. He, too, has a question, a bigger question. Probably, he will never ask for it. His career is already at a fag end. This Zero will not hit him, but it certainly will hurt him. After keeping the door for thirty years, he managed a Zero.
Dear Sir, I’m sorry I have stolen your precious time. A current of emotions probably has taken over me. But emotions have no space here. Emotions have not even worked for my Boss despite his efforts. His tools fail. Every day he has a shot for a newspaper. He thinks it goes unacknowledged. He thinks he is discredited, so he would discredit everyone, no matter what the performance is. The mood defines it. The teaching doesn’t help it, and the students will not judge it. The service tenure doesn’t matter. It is the mood. Because I failed to keep my Boss in good humour. I failed as did his poor doorkeeper.
My Boss needs to be credited, to be acknowledged. Only then he would acknowledge us. This is his complaint. I, like my colleagues, need peace, A calm place, where work is a virtue. I wish for myself a condition of anonymity, where no one knows me, labels me, defines me, but only my sincerity towards my students. They are thirsty and hungry for knowledge. They search for a classroom which they have badly missed during the pandemic. They are bruised like me. We both have a similar search. A bit of a time we deserve together. I must stop here and think about them. They need me in a better mental condition. With the best wishes to your gracious self, I bid you adieu and leave it for another day, for better judgment and evaluation.
Naseer khan is an assistant professor at Department of Higher Education.
Disclaimer: Views expressed in this letter are the writer’s own.
