The Wicked Boss John Terry

John Terry was the CEO of Bharat Sculptors. An Englishman by birth, he began his career as a travel writer. When he was touring the states of India, he reached Odisha where he fell in love with a girl called Rosalin Roy. After the girl's marriage to John, her name was changed to Rosalind Roy Terry. The couple had now two grown children, Margaret and Ronnie. John's success as the owner of Bharat Sculptors had gone to his head. There were more than two hundred sculptors working in John's art village and some thirty people looked after the sculptors and supervised their work. Terry had an unusual fondness for regimentation and draconian discipline. His supreme task was to point out imperfections in the works of sculptors and humiliate them in the presence of their coworkers. His rough and rude behaviour hurt his workers. But nobody could do anything to chastise him. Any complaint against the high handed boss would result in their dismissal from the art village.  

Honestly speaking, they would pray to God to kill the cruel boss. Nothing of the sort happened. Rather the boss's mistreatment of the workers continued as usual. Terry remembered how one day an old Indian lady had come to the art village and had requested Terry to engage her boy as apprentice to some skilled sculptor. The boy was not educated. Sculpting was the profession of his ancestors who had built the wonder called the Konark Temple. The boy Kamalesh was shy and introverted but excelled in sculpting. So he had a sense of pride. The sculptors in the art village lived in well-furnished rooms and were told to dress themselves well. Terry gave utmost importance to appearances. The statues of the Hindu deities and those of Lord Buddha were being exported abroad and money was simply pouring into the treasury of Terry who took particular care to groom himself as some erstwhile British Governor of India during the colonial period. He was greatly feared and strongly condemned and hated by the workers in the art village.  

One day as Terry was doing one of his rounds in the art village, he saw that Kamalesh was asleep in front of a partly carved statue. Wolfish Terry's burning eyes bored the peacefully asleep young sculptor's young face and he swore at the boy: "You rascal. . . !Sleeping during duty hours? I have no sympathy for idlers like you. Leave this place. . . !"

Kamalesh was standing with hands folded and entreating the cruel boss and proprietor of the vast art village. Kamalesh caught hold of the master's feet to forgive him only once as he had not made this mistake anytime before. Terry's eyes had turned livid with rage and he was roaring at the culprit. He told another sculptor to vacate Kamalesh's room. In a few minutes, the room was emptied and his things lay scattered over the ground in front of the room.  

Kamalesh thought hard and deep while crying constantly. If he left the art village, he and his old mother would have no food to eat. Terry had slapped his cheeks which now looked red. He rose to his feet holding big bag containing the few things he would use there. He had forgotten his slippers. It was 2:30 in the afternoon.  

The highway was , rightly speaking, burning and it didn't allow Kamala to walk along. He was sitting under a shady tree. Tears were rolling down his cheeks. He didn't know how to console his mother. She was sure to be inconsolable. Five thousand rupees was a big some for her. She didn't know that his son's boss treated people like stray dogs.  

Kamala was astonished to sight two large bodied men observing him closely. They had parked their bullet motorcycle nearby under another tree. Dark-skinned and hairy, they had large huge bodies. One of them came to Kamalesh laughing and said, "What are you crying for?"

Another tall man said:"I am Babaji and he is Tukuna. You have not heard of us? "

Both the men noticed convulsions over the body of the young sculptor. As they pressed their enquiries, Kamalesh gave them a detailed account of how he had been crushed and mistreated and also sufficient information about the suffering of other sculptors.  

Within minutes Tukuna and Babaji reached the art village and started talking to Terry in a very insulting manner. Tukuna slapped the 

Englishman 's cheeks. At first Terry had roared like a lion but the mention of their names had rendered him absolutely speechless. Babaji said to him, "You are giving rupees five thousand per month to this young man? Is that a salary? No sculptor must get less than minimum fifteen thousand every month end. "

Tukuna produced a small pistol from his pocket. He pressed the weapon onto the Englishman's forehead, and said, "Beg pardon to Kamalesh. All the sculptors were present and deeply glad within. "

"I really am sorry. I have said hurtful things which have pained this young man. "

The art village became a favourite hunt of the two brothers. They lived a happy and cheerful life . They earned well. After many years people found Terry actively involved in charity.  

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