Pie in the Sky

At daybreak, Aditya and Dipti had breakfast and came to the factory.

The brand-new "Diya Textile Factory" sign was already up.

Raju had already led some men in sweeping the yard, and the blue iron gates stood half-open.

Aditya and Dipti entered the office and shut the door.

"Quite a few workers will come today. People already saw the new sign and came to ask yesterday," Aditya said as he sat down. He pushed aside the old ledger Prakash had left behind, pulled a few sheets of paper from his shirt pocket, and spread them on the desk.

Dipti set her cloth bag on the desk and took out her notebook and pen. She sat ramrod straight, listening to Aditya with a serious expression.

"First, I'll explain exactly how Diya Textile Factory will operate. You need to know about the money, the accounts, and the roster. You have to be the first to understand how we'll manage things and set the rules," Aditya said.

"All right." Dipti nodded emphatically.

"First, wages. I'll pay forty percent more than other factories. General laborers get twelve rupees a day, assistants eighteen, weavers twenty-two, skilled weavers twenty-six, and mechanics thirty. The night-shift allowance is three rupees," Aditya said.

Once Dipti had digested that and looked astonished, Aditya smiled at her.

Then he continued, "We'll also introduce a full-attendance bonus: fifty rupees for working a full month. One late arrival cancels the bonus. They get one opportunity to take leave every six months, without losing pay, but they won't get the attendance bonus either."

Dipti's pen had long since stopped. Her mouth hung open, her gaze wandered, and she sank deep into self-doubt.

A moment later, as though she could no longer hear Aditya's voice, she finally came to her senses and looked up at him.

Dipti found Aditya watching her with a smile. She immediately grew flustered, feeling a rush of heat rise through her body, and instinctively brushed the loose strands in front of her face behind her head.

Dipti hurriedly asked, "Are you joking?"

Looking at his senior's scarlet earlobes, Aditya felt amused and teased, "I'm not joking. I'm just doing charity work."

"What exactly are you trying to do?" Dipti grew anxious, rose to her feet, and demanded.

Aditya wiped the smile from his face. She gestured for Dipti to sit down, then slowly explained:

"If Diya wants to break the curse of operating at a loss, we need maximum efficiency. Efficiency can't come from slogans alone. If we want them to work their hearts out, we have to be willing to spend. These rupees buy time. Every extra hour they work is another hour the machines run. As long as the machines don't stop, we can make money."

"This is an open stratagem. Only when the rupees are there will the workers have any enthusiasm. Many textile factories that went bankrupt failed on efficiency, and we need to learn from them. Strict management and maximum efficiency take rupees to achieve. As long as we can turn a profit, we can attract workers from other textile factories. They can either follow Diya's lead or go bankrupt and be bought out by us."

"Not every owner is willing to give their profits to the workers. In the future, Kanpur will have only one textile factory, and that will be Diya."

Watching Aditya's brimming confidence, Dipti found it strange. These were clearly words spoken by a person, yet she couldn't quite understand them. Was this still the Brahmin she knew?

But Aditya had persuaded Dipti all the same. Her mind involuntarily conjured an image of Diya Textile Factory monopolizing Kanpur.

Dipti admitted that Aditya's words had tempted her.

Dipti lowered her head and looked at the old ledger Prakash had left on the desk. The accounts recorded inside were real: wages owed, payments for materials overdue.

Dipti felt a profound disconnect. Aditya seemed like someone from another world.

She thought for a moment and asked, "Would paying workers too much discourage them from striving?"

"What nonsense are you talking about?" Those icy words made Aditya shudder with cold.

"I mean, will the other textile factories make trouble for us?" Realizing her words were inappropriate, Dipti hurriedly changed her question.

"If that happens, we'll have to see what the government does. If there's no other way, we can make a token gesture and lower wages a little. As long as Diya's workers are willing, we won't lose anything."

Dipti thought it over, but had no other suggestions, so she motioned for Aditya to continue and picked up her pen to take notes again.

"I've also settled promotions. General laborers who can work a machine after a full month become assistants. Assistants who learn to operate the looms become weavers. Weavers who can handle thread breaks and tension become skilled weavers. We'll discuss the rest later," Aditya continued. "Anyone who wants more rupees has to produce results."

Dipti asked, "Where did you learn these ideas?"

Aditya glanced at her and answered, "In my dreams."

Dipti immediately grew furious and gave a cold snort.

Aditya didn't want to explain, nor could he. She wouldn't believe him if he told her about those things from his previous life.

"Have you ever seen a factory spell out wages and positions this clearly?" Aditya asked.

Dipti shook her head. "No. All I know is that factories whose ledgers are a tangled mess are everywhere."

"That's where Diya differs from them," Aditya said. "Why did Prakash drive Jaya into bankruptcy? Wasn't it because the accounts were a mess, the workers did as they pleased, and there were no rules?

"I want the workers we hire to know from their very first day what they should do, how many rupees they'll earn, and how to earn more."

Aditya leaned back in his chair and said to Dipti, "Now it's your turn."

Dipti looked up at him in confusion.

"Your salary will be eight hundred rupees a month. You can also take a share of Diya's profits. You'll manage the money. All of Diya's accounts, payroll, attendance records, and incoming and outgoing raw materials will be your responsibility."

"As for other staff, such as assistants, you can hire as you see fit. You can manage both finance and personnel. You'll report directly to me," Aditya said.

Dipti said nothing. Her hand pressed against her notebook, her knuckles turning slightly white from the force.

"Diya Textile Factory will expand in the future. Sooner or later, we'll take over all of Kanpur. Along the way, there will be more factory buildings, more machines, more people, and more accounts-too many for one person to oversee."

"By then, you'll be Diya's finance director. Everyone who sees you will have to address you as Miss Dipti."

Aditya racked his brains to paint his senior the biggest, roundest, most fragrant pie in the sky.

Foolish college students! Their eyes really are so clear. Just be good and work for me!

Sure enough, Aditya saw Dipti's throat move.

Dipti seemed dazed by the enormous pie that had landed on her. Only after a long while did she answer, "You've even thought all of this through."

"I'd already thought it through when I saw you at the Industry Bureau in Lucknow. I told you I wasn't lying," Aditya said.

"At ten, I'll go out to meet the workers. Once I finish speaking, I'll come back to the office. You and Raju take care of the workers," Aditya instructed in closing.

Dipti put away her notebook and nodded.

Aditya walked to the window. Countless workers were already waiting outside, the crowd packed around the factory gates. Pairs of eyes peered into the factory.

Aditya glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nine forty in the morning.

He looked back at Dipti. "Get yourself ready too. Let the workers wait a little longer. We'll head out in a bit."