Fiction: Another Job Interview
In an overcrowded bus, Robi’s demeanour stands out. Anxiety appears to swallow him up. The fine arts graduate is on his way to take his eighth job interview that year after being rejected by uncountable employers in the last thirteen years. He gets off the bus when it stops in front of a private office building, and heads towards its open gate. As he’s about to enter the premises, he feels lightheaded because his blood sugar level starts going down.
Three well-dressed men, standing at the gate, approach him. One of them asks Robi, “Here for an interview?” A shaky Robi nods. “Well, you must pay us a thousand rupees to be able to get in,” says another. Robi rummages through his backpack, takes out a small bottle of sugar cubes and chugs the sugar down with water. “Young man, are you listening to us? Pay us the thousand rupees and we’ll be out of your way,” says the third stranger. Regaining his vigour, Robi begins to explain to the men, “You have no idea how desperately I need this job. I am stone broke and in debt to a couple of relatives who funded my medical expenses five years ago. I don’t have any siblings to help me with anything. I beg you, let me go...” But the men remain unmoved by his story. They tell him to give them the money or forget about the interview. Robi phones his friend who reluctantly sends the men money through an internet banking website. Robi is then let in for the interview. The receptionist at the office directs him upstairs to the boss’ chamber where the interview has been scheduled to take place. The boss, a lady in her early fifties who reeks of unimaginable wealth, welcomes him and asks him to close the door behind him. There is no one else present in that spacious room besides her and Robi.
“You don’t seem nervous,” says the lady with a grin.
“No. I have been through this many times before. May I sit?”
She then takes two minutes to examine Robi’s physical appearance as he sits there in front of her, observing an awkward silence. “I have brought some of my best works with me today. Do you want to see them?”
She only smiles which Robi takes as a yes. He places before her his weighty file of traditional paintings done by him over the years and some photographs of his sculptures.
She clumsily runs through those pictures and asks Robi, “What makes you think that I will be impressed by your drawings when I have talented digital artists producing attractive illustrations anytime I need?”
“Well… I believe digital art cannot ever replace traditional art’s aesthetic value. I think you agree with me on this because in your job advertisement you had specifically asked for traditional artists to apply. You definitely can’t find my kind of efficiency in a purely digital artist.”
“Your answer’s not too bad. For your information, I am an award-winning digital artist who just hasn’t found the inspiration to create new artwork in a while… Anyway, I was wondering how much you know about my magazine to be willing to work for it.”
“I read that this magazine was started over twenty years ago, and ... it has been quite successful so far in producing meaningful articles and pictures that a lot of people care about.”
“Three years ago, one of our former female employees posted on her social media accounts that she had faced sexism here. Were you aware of that?”
“You should have been. It is important to research into the place and people you are willing to associate yourself with. But, now that you know, what do you think of it?”
“I… I think… I don’t know about her experiences here. But, if hired, I will do my best to… to make sure that my behaviour or conduct never becomes the reason for anyone’s unhappiness in the workplace.”
“Thank you, ma’am! All I need is an opportunity to prove how valuable I can be to your company.”
“Mr. Robi De, why don’t we go through the details of the responsibilities I’d like you to have here?”
“Oh… you have no idea how much I have been looking forward to this!” Robi's eyes glisten with surprise and delight.
For the next two hours, the boss slowly explains to him the duties of an illustrator in her company and enlightens him on its history.
Half an hour before lunch break, she tells a hopeful Robi, “I doubt you will be able to perform all these tasks and become an indispensable employee. You need to come to me after you have gained more work experiences elsewhere.”
“No, ma’am, you have to believe in me... Just give me a chance to show you how much…”
“Look, young man, you have only worked as a freelance artist so far. You have no idea how things are done in a big workplace like ours. I cannot let anything … anything go wrong here. How much do you know about the corporate culture anyway?”
“This position I have applied for is supposed to be an entry-level one requiring minimum work experience… Did you… did you expect a newbie to know it all?”
“This room has only one door through which we enter and exit, and it’s right behind you. Thank you for being here. I hope you succeed someday.”
"Why did you waste so much of my time just to tell me all about this damned place? Why didn’t you reject me earlier? I could have gone home to my sick old parents who need me often! I have left them alone with a new caregiver to come here for this interview, and now after tricking me into keeping you company for three hours, you’re telling me I am not needed here!”
The lady exhibits a calm indifference during Robi’s rampage before heading out for lunch. Robi remains in her room for over an hour until she returns.
“I don’t pay people for keeping me company,” she says upon seeing the resolute man standing at her desk fifteen minutes past the lunch break.
“How much more do you need? Do I have to bribe you for this job?” asks a desperate Robi, fighting his frustrations.
The lady sits down in her chair quietly, sips water from her bottle, and gently wipes her lips with a handkerchief. “What do you mean?” she asks carelessly.
“Weren’t the men who made me shell out a thousand bucks earlier yours?”
“I have no idea about what you’re saying, young man. Listen, you need to leave before you get yourself into trouble.”
“Oh yeah? What are you going to do?” Robi, furious, inches closer to her.
“The chief minister’s nephew is a dear friend of mine. All I need to tell him is that you tried to rape me in my own office because I refused to hire you.”
Upon hearing those words, Robi instantly breaks into a cold sweat and his heart rate rises. He can’t utter another word. Struggling to breathe, Robi grabs his phone from his pocket to dial some number in vain. The boss, still comfortable in her cushioned chair, watches him drop unconscious on the carpet in front of her.
Then she thoughtfully opens Microsoft Paint on her iPad. Using only her fingers, she attempts to draw the still man to perfection.
Copyright ©️ Briksha 2021