Hung heads!
They are not an uncommon sight. Often, we run into them at roadside restaurants, small coffee shops and mobile eateries. To earn a living, they put up with abusive bosses. They bear the brunt of customer's rage and frustration. They work long hours, but take home low salaries. They clean only to be wiped out later.
Even in a crowded place, they are not very easy to miss - the middle-aged men who dispose our drunken cups, dirtied plates and used banana leaves in the many hotels that fills our streets. Take a close at them. Not much separates them from our fathers. They are of the same age, they share the love for their kids and most of all, they both are trying to survive in this unfair world.
Not long ago, I met such a man at an eat-out.
He was tall, lean, and drawn. His clothes, an old-fashioned loose-fitting chequered shirt and a not-so-desirable polyester trousers, did not do any favour to his haggard looks. However, his hair, typical of the past, was well oiled and neatly combed to the side. His moustache was trimmed and beard shaven. Clearly, the man has not kept with fashion.
Staring at him, I settled into one of the many tables that stood empty. At that late hour, the hotel itself was half deserted and the few customers who were around were engrossed in their dinner. I, for my part, ordered a light meal and continued my gazing.
The man, with a slight limp, went from table to table, collecting dirtied plates before dumping the used banana leaves into a garbage bin and slipping the trays into a washbasin. He then returned to the table to clear away the spills and mop the furniture with water.
All went well till one diner, a young man, chose to vent out his anger on our man. He shared a table with another guy who finished his meal and emptied the seat. Left to himself, the young man began devouring the Parathas in front of him.
And our man, sincere as he is, limped to the table and removed the used plate from it as the other man was eating.
This did not go well with the young fellow. He scorned down upon our man-with-a-slight-limp. I found no reason for him to do so. For I positively assure you that the cleaner did not whisk away the plate, he simply removed it as politely as possible.
The young man's eyes brimmed with disdain. However, he did not complain. He went back to his food again. Not for long though. The man-with-a-slight-limp was back at the table and this time, he was trying to rinse the tabletop off with a wet cloth. By doing so, he earned the wrath of its occupant.
The wet cloth came within an inch of the diner's plate and the young man could not stand it anymore. 'Can't you see that I'm eating? Clean it after I leave, will you?' He cried. Not very loud, but audible enough to be heard by the boss and a few others.
The boss, an elderly man, rebuked his employee severely. After all, for a business man, loosing a customer was not an endearing prospect.
So there he stood, the man-with-a-slight-limp, with his head hung low. Then, he was no more than an object of observation and ridicule, selling his dignity to earn a living.
Does he deserve it? No ! Why should he? After all, he doesn't beg. He works - so that his kids can live a life he does not have.
Yet, most of us see him as a second grade citizen. We look down upon him. We believe he is inferior and so, we have the right to treat him badly.
This is what happens to most so-called low-skilled workers. We deny most of them the care they need and the respect they deserve. We bark at them for trivials. We bully them. We tread on their dignity.
In our eyes, they are no more than a broom - needed only when there is dirt to be cleaned. In our minds, they are the curse of our developing nation.
Are they all these?
I hope I live to see the day our outlook towards these low-skilled workers change. They are one among us and they deserve to be treated equally. They are not very different from our fathers and they deserve to be respected. And they are humans who can love and care and they deserve both in return.
Even in a crowded place, they are not very easy to miss - the middle-aged men who dispose our drunken cups, dirtied plates and used banana leaves in the many hotels that fills our streets. Take a close at them. Not much separates them from our fathers. They are of the same age, they share the love for their kids and most of all, they both are trying to survive in this unfair world.
Not long ago, I met such a man at an eat-out.
He was tall, lean, and drawn. His clothes, an old-fashioned loose-fitting chequered shirt and a not-so-desirable polyester trousers, did not do any favour to his haggard looks. However, his hair, typical of the past, was well oiled and neatly combed to the side. His moustache was trimmed and beard shaven. Clearly, the man has not kept with fashion.
Staring at him, I settled into one of the many tables that stood empty. At that late hour, the hotel itself was half deserted and the few customers who were around were engrossed in their dinner. I, for my part, ordered a light meal and continued my gazing.
The man, with a slight limp, went from table to table, collecting dirtied plates before dumping the used banana leaves into a garbage bin and slipping the trays into a washbasin. He then returned to the table to clear away the spills and mop the furniture with water.
All went well till one diner, a young man, chose to vent out his anger on our man. He shared a table with another guy who finished his meal and emptied the seat. Left to himself, the young man began devouring the Parathas in front of him.
And our man, sincere as he is, limped to the table and removed the used plate from it as the other man was eating.
This did not go well with the young fellow. He scorned down upon our man-with-a-slight-limp. I found no reason for him to do so. For I positively assure you that the cleaner did not whisk away the plate, he simply removed it as politely as possible.
The young man's eyes brimmed with disdain. However, he did not complain. He went back to his food again. Not for long though. The man-with-a-slight-limp was back at the table and this time, he was trying to rinse the tabletop off with a wet cloth. By doing so, he earned the wrath of its occupant.
The wet cloth came within an inch of the diner's plate and the young man could not stand it anymore. 'Can't you see that I'm eating? Clean it after I leave, will you?' He cried. Not very loud, but audible enough to be heard by the boss and a few others.
The boss, an elderly man, rebuked his employee severely. After all, for a business man, loosing a customer was not an endearing prospect.
So there he stood, the man-with-a-slight-limp, with his head hung low. Then, he was no more than an object of observation and ridicule, selling his dignity to earn a living.
Does he deserve it? No ! Why should he? After all, he doesn't beg. He works - so that his kids can live a life he does not have.
Yet, most of us see him as a second grade citizen. We look down upon him. We believe he is inferior and so, we have the right to treat him badly.
This is what happens to most so-called low-skilled workers. We deny most of them the care they need and the respect they deserve. We bark at them for trivials. We bully them. We tread on their dignity.
In our eyes, they are no more than a broom - needed only when there is dirt to be cleaned. In our minds, they are the curse of our developing nation.
Are they all these?
I hope I live to see the day our outlook towards these low-skilled workers change. They are one among us and they deserve to be treated equally. They are not very different from our fathers and they deserve to be respected. And they are humans who can love and care and they deserve both in return.
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