Raju Cleaner

Every day after I reach my office, after I park my car, I take a few steps across a wet road and climb up a few soaked steps to reach a door that will take me to the reception from where I head towards my bay. During this short journey, I always see a Janitor busy mopping the floors. Meet Raju Cleaner. I can't help but feel incredibly guilty for Raju. For some reason my company has decided to not use doormats for my particular building, forcing me, and several others to walk in without wiping / drying off our feet.

The timing factor here, is simply remarkable. Every time the poor Raju takes a moment to admire his work, a meeting would finish, or it would be lunch time, or time for a cup of coffee or it could just be a group of people who come running in, all drenched and soaked from the rains. All of them probably causing our dear Raju to hate himself, his life, his job and just everything under the sun.

Yet, perhaps keeping in mind his family, and the hungry bellies that his measly salary will feed, he shruggs away the hatred and starts over. Every time, every day, through-out the year, year after year. Munna Bhai MBBS suggested the Jaadu ki Jhappi, but would it really work in real life? I feel terrible walking over a freshly mopped floor. Yet, I must. I'm not brave enough to go give a jaadu ki jhappi to Raju, or any of his colleagues, but I do kind of apologize, or at least wear a guilty look on my face. I try to rid my shoes of as much water as I possibly can on the cold, hard surface before trespassing over Raju's recently completed and well-done job.

I can't do much, but I'd like to believe that wearing a look of guilt on my face, apologizing and ensuring that Raju sees me making an effort to dry off my shoes makes a difference. Maybe he won't hate me as much. Maybe he won't hate himself so much knowing that there are people who care and who appreciate him and his work. Thank you Raju, for making my blue speck a much cleaner place to live in. And thank you Munna Bhai for opening our eyes.