Recess

The town of Sehore (where I work) is devoid of electricity for about 7 hours a day. Between 6 am to 10 am and 3 to 5 pm. This means almost 3-4 hours of office time disrupted. Most of it doesn’t matter as many of the guys here are field animators but when reports have to be made and surveys analysed, we face problematic situations.

The upside of it is the 2 hours we sit together without doing much, from 3 pm to 5 pm is the kind of time when you almost can’t go outside unless you want to turn into ashes; the heat is unhealthy. So whether you like the company or not, you have to stay put. Everyone from the boss to the accountant comes and congregates in the same room.

That’s why I call this time recess. It is a time when everyone gets a chance to talk about varied things, and every opinion is considered. The conversations I have with my colleagues are far more than what you would call interesting- religion, literature, politics, history, fieldwork. Right from the oldest employee who has been working since the organisation came into existence- who can chart out the successes and failures of the various government schemes ever implemented in the state, to the history genius who knows the context of each context, the story behind each story. I’ve had loud passionate conversations about the differences between city people and village people. The notion of city amidst the others; debates that would take hours. There was silent reminiscing about old songs and movies as well as the newest gossip. I think their stories thrilled me as much as mine thrilled or shocked them. Most conversations had smart innuendos from our boss who’d attempt to make the situation lighter in some way or the other.

Though it seems a great way to spend an afternoon, it’s actually more than that. It gives us a niche to understand each other and accept the varied opinions thrown around. Most of us are outsiders coming from different states, and this proves to be a sort of rite de passage. 

It was a while ago when I realised I’ve never been part of such rich discussions before. Even the ones that involved village customs like ostracism and child marriage were not stuff that was read of newspapers. They were sharing their lives. And I was mine. We were living off our own experiences and we never got bored. We still don’t.

A few of my colleagues have decided to leave and find better opportunities elsewhere; I’ll probably miss out on a lot that could’ve been shared. And then again we might have new people, new opinions, and new lives with new topics. Whatever be the situation, I think I am grateful for these two hours sans electricity. Never thought I would like the stifling time spend in a small room. But recess still means something I look forward to J and probably the no work bit too!