A cup of coffee

On the day they bid me farewell, colleagues recalled some long forgotten moments. The Trip on trail of times gone was nostalgic. 30 years spent in a one stop organisation with a small number of colleagues came back as one long eventful, torrential trip. The reverie began smoothly with V recounting how he was surprised when soon after a dressing down for a lapse he sheepishly sought leave to go for food and was told "we all come to work for food and you never need to seek permission for going to take food."

Many others responded, telling the small assembly that they had never seen one angry. V felt compelled to tell them that the relationship was always cordial and there was no bitterness, even when a mistake was pointed out.

The colleague who joined the launch team of Dainik Tribune newsdesk, one of only two from that team now left in the paper, confessed how she came to regret her decision to turn down the offer of a cup of coffee in the Sector 17 Coffee House. The offer, made on a rainy day after we reached the local bus terminus and had head in different directions, was meant to break the ice among new unfamiliar colleagues, but was obviously seen as an advance and ‘diplomatically’ declined. Over the years she came to realise value of the camaraderie with this “walking encyclopaedia" and shared small talk over tea almost everyday.

The episode was fresh in her memory though one had to struggle to recall if such a thing had indeed happened. Much mirth resulted when she said she will accept all such offers in future and was told that now the offer of coffee will have to come from her.

One very sensitive long time colleagues said he had read me wrong. He never thought of me as an actor but has found out that his impression of me - the appearance of not ever being angry - was not correct. This ‘justifies’ his calling me an actor. That one was able to control anger successfully dawned on him only recently. This trait was not very well known to oneself. Controlled anger being a very positive attribute was a lesson internalised from my late father during the formative years.

The science graduate who had never worked in a newsroom and learnt the skills and craft on the job, got the ultimate compliment when editor called one "not just encyclopaedia but an institution" and said not one editorial subject was ever declined as being unfamiliar. With ‘this gentleman’ holding fort he had no worries about the editorial page or other tasks.

The long innings did much for all of us, it built us up. As we grew the paper grew too. Challenges notwithstanding, we developed into a team with a culture. Memories of Cups of coffee, the mirth and struggles will live on, as stuff to cherish.