fighter aircraft pass overhead. A Spitfire, I think it was. It flew precariously low, rattling the malibari , and I could clearly see the face of pilot wearing his goggles. He was busy looking down at the cow. There have been quite a few plane crashes around here. Several years ago, I’m told, a wreckage was found in the thick jungle bordering Aynakhal and Chulsa. The Aynakhal assistant (Larry’s predecessor) made the coolies drag out the massive propeller and load it onto a garden truck and bring it to his bungalow, where it still graces the front garden as a lawn ornament.
I have to end for now, because I hear Larry’s motorcycle. This cow problem is hanging over my head. Mr. McIntyre will be here in 10 minutes. He is always on the dot of time.
My very best to you.
Manik
Alasdair mentioned he would be passing by our house again later that evening and if I liked he could carry a letter back for Manik from me. I penned a quick reply and a week later there was another letter from Manik.
Aynakhal T.E.
18th October 1943
Dear Layla,
I am so pleased you chose to send a reply back with Alasdair. Imagine my surprise when he told me he had met you! I must have driven him crazy with my questions!
Jamina’s father lives in the fishing village by the river, next to your house. I had no idea Alasdair had gone to see him. He said it made more sense to drop off the letter than to post it. He was very surprised to find you at home. I had not told him about you, so I am not surprised he thought you were my fiancée. I understand that caused some awkwardness between you two. I do apologize.
Now to answer your very valid questions. I am actually very glad you asked. Most people are itching to know, but dread the answers. It is as if I contracted some terrible disease and they fear the prognosis.
To get back to the point, yes, I gave up the civil-service job. Why? Because Layla Roy did not want to marry a government officer! Of course I am joking! The simple reason is the government job looked bureaucratic and boring. In a single word: soulless.
I actually applied to Jardine Henley on a whim, curious to see what the tea job was all about. An English friend of mine in Calcutta told me that Sterling Tea Companies were opening up managerial positions for the first time to Indians. I went for the interview and to my surprise I was offered the Assistant Manager job in Aynakhal Tea Estate. The Assistant Manager position is the lowliest rung of the managerial ladder.
They asked me some very strange questions at the interview. The first one was, if I had plans to get married in the next three years. I don’t think I even batted an eye when I answered, “No.” Many people would call me a blatant liar. Suddenly it was clear as day—I was not ready to get married. I saw this job as my survival. I need to buy some time to think things through more clearly.
The rest of my interview was equally odd. The Directors showed little interest in my academic achievements. They were excited to learn I played tennis and rugby. They asked if I liked to hunt, fish or play bridge. It felt more like an interview for a country club. Then came two of the strangest questions of all: Do you drink, and are you a vegetarian?
I answered “occasionally” to the first and “no” to the second. I later found that drinking is high on their list of credentials and being a vegetarian, an immediate disqualification. I figure what they really want to know is if I have the Westernized mind-set to fit into the tea culture. Everything else about the job can be taught.
Now that I am here, I understand this much better. Tea life is still very colonial. Social clubs, hunting, sporting events, formal dinner parties and so on. It is a whole different lifestyle, and I can see why most Indians would have a hard time adjusting.
But I digress: I don’t want to sound like I am avoiding your questions. So back to your very stern interrogation. (Your questions make me
I have to end for now, because I hear Larry’s motorcycle. This cow problem is hanging over my head. Mr. McIntyre will be here in 10 minutes. He is always on the dot of time.
My very best to you.
Manik
Alasdair mentioned he would be passing by our house again later that evening and if I liked he could carry a letter back for Manik from me. I penned a quick reply and a week later there was another letter from Manik.
Aynakhal T.E.
18th October 1943
Dear Layla,
I am so pleased you chose to send a reply back with Alasdair. Imagine my surprise when he told me he had met you! I must have driven him crazy with my questions!
Jamina’s father lives in the fishing village by the river, next to your house. I had no idea Alasdair had gone to see him. He said it made more sense to drop off the letter than to post it. He was very surprised to find you at home. I had not told him about you, so I am not surprised he thought you were my fiancée. I understand that caused some awkwardness between you two. I do apologize.
Now to answer your very valid questions. I am actually very glad you asked. Most people are itching to know, but dread the answers. It is as if I contracted some terrible disease and they fear the prognosis.
To get back to the point, yes, I gave up the civil-service job. Why? Because Layla Roy did not want to marry a government officer! Of course I am joking! The simple reason is the government job looked bureaucratic and boring. In a single word: soulless.
I actually applied to Jardine Henley on a whim, curious to see what the tea job was all about. An English friend of mine in Calcutta told me that Sterling Tea Companies were opening up managerial positions for the first time to Indians. I went for the interview and to my surprise I was offered the Assistant Manager job in Aynakhal Tea Estate. The Assistant Manager position is the lowliest rung of the managerial ladder.
They asked me some very strange questions at the interview. The first one was, if I had plans to get married in the next three years. I don’t think I even batted an eye when I answered, “No.” Many people would call me a blatant liar. Suddenly it was clear as day—I was not ready to get married. I saw this job as my survival. I need to buy some time to think things through more clearly.
The rest of my interview was equally odd. The Directors showed little interest in my academic achievements. They were excited to learn I played tennis and rugby. They asked if I liked to hunt, fish or play bridge. It felt more like an interview for a country club. Then came two of the strangest questions of all: Do you drink, and are you a vegetarian?
I answered “occasionally” to the first and “no” to the second. I later found that drinking is high on their list of credentials and being a vegetarian, an immediate disqualification. I figure what they really want to know is if I have the Westernized mind-set to fit into the tea culture. Everything else about the job can be taught.
Now that I am here, I understand this much better. Tea life is still very colonial. Social clubs, hunting, sporting events, formal dinner parties and so on. It is a whole different lifestyle, and I can see why most Indians would have a hard time adjusting.
But I digress: I don’t want to sound like I am avoiding your questions. So back to your very stern interrogation. (Your questions make me
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