The yardstick

I hate my job. I hate my boss. I hate my life. I hate myself.

It was one of those Fridays. The day everyone partied. I sat alone in the sofa; gulping a Kingfisher while watching a worthless cricket match. I was furious. The day, as usual, went bad. However hard I tried, pleasing Mr. Ruben seemed impossible. But I had to keep trying. The job meant everything to me now. I glanced around the empty house and wondered where it all went wrong. Three years ago, I had everything. More importantly, I was happy then…

I joined as an assistant designer in a popular construction firm right out of my college. It was a dream job, a job that would ensure a lucrative career abroad. That was my aim. Settling in the States. Mr. Ruben was nice at first. Soon the job became demanding. I had to spend nights out in the office and the more I worked, the lesser I got rewarded. They never seemed happy. They called me inefficient, uncreative and undeserving. The foreign opportunity was still a dream…

I had Nisha. Romance blossomed from college days and a year into my work, we got married. I liked the independence she enjoyed in her life. She was daring. Our marriage and the opposition we faced before it meant that we were all alone. To each other’s company, we promised. We bought home Emma, an Indian Spitz. She loved dogs. I liked Emma Watson. We were a happy family…

I would often come home late while Nisha was home by 6pm from her work. It all started there. Nisha had only one companion most of the times i.e Emma and she would have slept most of the days by the time I returned. I didn’t like the routine but I promised myself that once we get to go abroad, things will be more comfortable and happier. I worked harder. The routine became tougher. Once I couldn't even speak to Nisha in person for a week, in spite of living in the same house. Slowly there was a drift in the closeness we shared. The day my appraisal results of the 2nd year came (in which I was found to be not good enough yet to go abroad), a fight erupted at home.

“Why are you being a jackass?” the sharpness of her tone stunned me.
“Look Nisha, I am doing this for us.”
“No you aren’t. We are not happy. I gave up everything for you. Please understand!”
“Listen I am tired today. Let’s talk later”
“That’s what you have been saying for a while now. Let’s decide today. Are you going to quit your job or not?”
The question pinched me. I slapped her. For all the hard work I put in, this can’t be the end.
“Shut up Nisha!”
She cried. “Please leave this job! I earn enough for us both even if you can’t find another one soon. We can be happy in India”
“I assure you that I will spend more time with you.” and I walked away.

For the next 3 months I tried to give Nisha more time. I took my projects home. The thought of at least staying with her was more comforting. I could sense that she felt better but still she was constantly having a dig at my job.

One day, Mr. Ruben told me, “Seems like you are leaving home early nowadays? Not interested in a career abroad eh?”
I changed back to my original routine. Job became more important, yet again. I tried explaining it to Nisha. Couldn’t.

One fine day she told me that she decided to walk away if I continue in this job. I didn’t realize the seriousness then. A week later, another big fight actuated. She packed her bags and bade goodbye. I didn’t stop her. I didn’t need a women who didn’t understand my dreams.
“Take Emma along! I can’t feed your puppies” I shouted at her when she was about to open the gates.
She screamed back “Have her as my parting gift. In case you ever wanna screw someone!” and left.
It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn’t ‘touched’ Nisha in more than a month…

It’s been 6 months since Nisha left. I finished the beer and walked towards the balcony. Emma was sleeping. Peacefully. Everytime, I saw her, she reminded me of Nisha, the woman who never understood me. I heard that Nisha lived with her friend nowadays. I didn’t bother to contact her. Neither did she. The past was pricking me. I picked up a stick that was lying around and hit the sleeping dog. She screamed and I liked it. I continued to hit her till I was satisfied. I felt relieved as I hit the bed that night…

I told myself that the only aim I have is to convince my boss and that I will work harder and smarter then on. I tried to be friendlier with the seniors in the office who could be influential rather than giving them a feeling that I was competing with them. I would invite them for lunch, offer beer parties for no apparent reason. Mr. Ruben remained a dissatisfied man. But I found a new way to release my tension. Once a week I used to beat up the bitch at home. It was soothing in some way. Soon it became a daily event. I was able to digest the sadistic pleasure my boss got out of demeaning me by passing on the anger to the dog. She was taking it fine I felt.

I noticed a small bump in Emma’s belly one day and instantly knew that the bitch had mated with some street dog. The thought of spending my life all alone while a bitch enjoyed the pleasures of life infuriated me. I picked the stick again and hit her with more force and vigour. She was bleeding when I left her alone in the balcony…

The bump was getting bigger. So was my anxiety. When will I be recognized? I cried to myself. I did not like the whole thing. I hated my life. I hated myself.

Mr. Ruben called me to his office on a Sunday (yes I worked even on Sundays).
“I must confess that I am not totally impressed with you.” He began while I just nodded.
“But I have seen some improvement in your work in the past 3-4 months. While that is not enough to recommend you to the head office, they are in need of resources at present. I have forwarded your name. You are a lucky chap!” he offered to shake my hands.

I was overjoyed. The dream came true. For all the hard work. I cried instantly. I wanted to rejoice the moment but there was no one for me. I thought of Emma. I bought 2 packets of her once favourite biscuits while picking up 5 pints of beer for myself. I returned home with a smiling face after years and cried for Emma with joy. And what I saw then ashamed me. Emma came to me with the stick in her mouth and dropped the stick under my feet asking to be hit. I felt like I was slapped. I broke down the beer bottles on the floor and picked up Emma and for the first time in months, allowed her to lick my hand. It felt heavenly. I felt the love. The dog which was hit everyday loved me still. I cried inconsolably. Why? I asked myself. What for all this? What will I do alone in the States? I slept hugging Emma that night.

Early morning, I woke up with a conviction. I let Emma lick my hands again as I stroked her forehead. I rushed to meet Mr. Ruben.

“I am resigning” I told him with a serious face.
“What? Are you mad? You are going to the States man! Don’t joke around!”
“I am resigning. Today. See you Mr. Ruben. Nice knowing you” I walked towards the exit.
“Wait!” he screamed. “I was foolish. You were a great worker. Believe me!”
I closed the door and returned home with a free mind. A mind cleared of all the evils. A mind in a mood to celebrate. To cherish a new beginning…

I reached home and the joy doubled. I saw 2 cute puppies lying around Emma. How stupid of me! I thought. I hadn’t followed her pregnancy. Emma was sleeping beside her kids. She might need some help I thought. So I called up a Vet and booked an appointment. I went to wake Emma up and instantly felt a chill. The body was cold, devoid of life. Emma was no more…

I cried like an asshole should. I killed the only being who loved me. I hit her when she was pregnant and her body couldn’t stand it. I wanted to punish myself. I hit myself with the stick till it broke. The pain was unbearable but it was worth it…

I saw the 2 newborns and realized how close they resembled to Emma when she was young.
“Such a lovely puppy” I recollected Nisha telling me. Everything was too harsh on me. But I knew I was the culprit. Emma died because of me, my job. Nisha left me because of the same. I wanted to make amends. I took the puppies and dashed towards the car.

I rang the doorbell and Nisha opened. We stood there without uttering a word, looking at each other’s eyes. How lovely she looked, I wondered. The smaller but powerful joys of life and how I missed them.

After an eternity, I asked her “Will you please come with me? I left my job and these are all I own” showing her the puppies. She stood without a word. And I added “I love you Nisha! I miss you” and broke down.

Within a minute, she got hold of one the puppies and asked “What should we name them?”