We approached the reception desk of that government office with faltering steps. You may have been a senior officer. But after retirement, nothing matters–especially when you are running after service benefits. You are at the receiving end all the time.
“Would you please write your names and then meet our PRO? She will help you.” We did. It was an open office, very different in the sense that the reception area itself had many staff seated in a cosy arrangement and the PRO’s seat was just behind, separated by a glass partition. The cabin had no door either.
There was already somebody inside. As we waited, we could see a squirming woman and hear a heated argument. There was a look of irritation and exasperation on the officer’s face. “Bad luck,” my friend whispered. “Some people never listen,” the officer smiled apologetically.
We introduced ourselves, presented our case, looking at her face anxiously. Surprisingly, she politely directed us to the section. “A PRO is doing this?” we looked at each other. The response from the concerned clerk was as expected: The file is with the Deputy Director, he is on leave, they would intimate, or, would we come again? “Bad luck,” my friend muttered again.
“Did you see the PRO after meeting the section clerk? Please do.” It was the receptionist again.
The PRO greeted us as if we were long lost friends. She listened to our tale of woe and made a call or two and gave us a name. “Would you please go and meet him?” He was huge but manners, very soft. We repeated the story up to the encounter with the clerk.
“The PRO Ma’am gave your name and asked us to...” His smile was also huge. It turned out that he was the one who had come to our office for the verification. He fished out the concerned file from his system, read out his report to us. “Don’t worry. We will sort it out and you will get your dues at the earliest.”
We met the PRO on our way out – to thank her. She was smiling again and listened to our update. “That gentleman told us something else too, Ma’am,” I said. She gave us a puzzled look. “That you are his wife!”
She laughed aloud and stood up. “Oh, did he? But you know – we will also be like you one day and who knows, may have to knock at many doors. This is our investment for that phase!’ It was raining outside. “Lucky day,” my friend whispered.