Zen and the art of home renovation
and ask where Dwarkesh is. “We work as a team, you see. When he’s here, I stay in the village and tend our field. Now that he’s gone home, I’m here in his place,” he says. Counting till 10 is just not helping, I muse wondering aloud why Dwarkesh left without completing his work. “Although both of us are equally well-trained at painting (our maternal uncle is our contractor and taught it to us when we were young boys), I’m better at finishing than he is. So, he told me to swap places.”
It turned out that the Pandey brothers basically juggle two jobs together, travelling back and forth from Delhi to their village in Gorakhpur whenever necessary. Their maternal uncle, who lives in Delhi, gets them the job contracts for a percentage of their earnings. “The system is lucrative as we don’t spend money on a permanent place in Delhi. Instead, we rent a temporary bed in a shared room whenever needed,” he explains. Their families stay in the village. “We always take turns working in Delhi,” explains Awadhesh. “My brother does all the major work, I always finish it.” Time is always at a premium in the summer, he says, as they harvest the wheat crop and prepare the fields for paddy. “But we never refuse a job. It’s like shutting the door on Goddess Laxmi’s face,” he says.
So once again, I take the painter from room to room, I point out the various odd jobs I need done. “Don’t worry,” he says, wielding his arsenal of brushes, “I’ll do it all.” Awadhesh gets down to business immediately, and I find that he is indeed both skillful and fast. But his phone is ringing off the hook.
Eventually, he excuses himself and takes the call. The irate voice is audible across the room. “Why didn’t you book the tractor for this week?” the voice shouts. “Now the tractor is booked for the next 15 days... we won’t be able to plow the fields on time.” Awadhesh looks abashed. “I was in a hurry to come here and complete your job,” he says. “Booking the tractor slipped my mind.”
Clearly, I comment, working two jobs isn’t as easy as Awadhesh makes it sound. Instead, it seems to have hampered their efficiency somewhat. “As I said, summer jobs are harder, as there’s a lot to be done in the fields as well. But it’s worth it because we earn at least ~25,000 per contract and don’t even spend on renting a room,” he says. That’s all very well, I say, but it also must be tough on the two brothers to lead such a nomadic lifestyle. “We all do whatever it takes to survive, I’m just glad my brother and I make a good team!”
I look around, see another blemish, and turn away. While the Pandey brothers continue doing two imperfect jobs at a time to survive, I think I may have found my state of Zen.
Apot of tea is put out in the balcony every morning alongside five neatly folded newspapers. As the first riser in the household, you would think I’d have rights on the tea along with the day’s headlines, but my wife’s instructions are irrevocable on this as in other matters — she claims an entitlement on the first cup of tea, even though she is the last to rise. In Narendra Modi’s corruption-free raj, I confess to a little gratuity on the side for the cook to slip me a cup without squealing to madam. My son insists on dibs on his choice of newspaper even though he doesn’t pay the vendor, and my wife likes her papers wrinkle-free, so it falls to me to iron them out before they’re presented