Getting on Track

Ten o'clock.

"Quiet! Stop talking! The boss is coming out!" Raju shouted at the top of his lungs.

Aditya pushed open the office door and walked out. He stood on the steps, and the workers' clamoring gradually subsided.

With hundreds of eyes fixed on him, Aditya swallowed and began:

"Jaya Textile Mill has closed down. From now on, there is only Diya Textile Factory, a factory belonging to the Mishra Family."

"I am the owner of Diya Textile Factory. My name is Aditya Mishra."

"In the name of the Mishra Family, I guarantee that Diya Textile Factory will offer the best pay and benefits of any factory in Kanpur."

"We'll now begin recruiting officially. Listen carefully to the requirements. Those willing to work can stay. Those unwilling can leave."

A commotion rippled through the crowd, and a narrow gap opened as two men walked out.

The one in front was short and thin; the one behind him was a little taller.

They walked up to the steps, knelt, and reached out one after the other to touch the toes of Aditya's shoes.

Aditya instinctively wanted to move away, but he caught himself and calmly accepted this lower-caste ritual.

After performing the foot-touching ritual, the two said in unison, "Thank you, Mishra!"

"Respected Mr. Mishra, my name is Abid. I used to be a mechanic at Jaya. I know the machines in this factory."

"Respected Mr. Mishra, my name is Ram. I'm a veteran weaver who worked at Jaya for seven years, overseeing more than a dozen machines."

"Oh! We even have some old hands." Aditya looked at them, thought for a moment, and said, "All right. Stay with Raju in a bit and help him select workers."

The two knelt again, thanking him repeatedly.

"Raju, start picking!"

With that, Aditya turned and returned to the office.

Raju strode up the steps and clapped twice.

"Listen up! Experienced workers to the front! Anyone who's woven cloth or repaired machines, step out yourselves! Those without experience, stand at the back! If anyone dares pretend, don't blame me for showing you no face!"

The crowd stirred. Abid and Ram stood on either side of Raju.

One worker squeezed forward, and Abid immediately stepped up to rebuke him. "Have you ever woven cloth? Get back."

The man still wanted to argue, but an older worker behind him laughed first. "You've even held a shuttle backward."

The crowd roared with laughter, and the man shrank back again.

Raju selected only young, strong workers. Some were too old, and he refused them no matter how skilled they were.

The night shift was twelve hours long. If they couldn't hold out, Diya would bear the loss.

"You, come here." Raju picked one.

"You, step back." Raju pushed another aside.

Dipti sat on a stool, registering them one by one: their names, where they came from, and what work they had done.

From time to time, Abid and Ram pointed out to Raju which people he shouldn't hire.

A tall, thin man insisted he could repair machines. Abid walked over and asked him, "What would you do if a machine's main shaft came loose?"

The tall, thin man said, "I'd give it a couple of knocks."

Raju waved him away and cursed, "Go home and knock on your own pots."

The crowd laughed. His face flushed crimson, and he burrowed into the back.

Once Raju finished selecting workers, Dipti stepped forward and said:

"General laborers, twelve rupees a day. Assistants, eighteen. Weavers, twenty-two. Skilled weavers, twenty-six. Mechanics, thirty. An extra three rupees for night shifts."

"There's an attendance bonus. Work the full month, and you'll receive an extra fifty rupees at the end of it. Arrive late once, and you get nothing. Once every six months, you can take leave without a pay deduction, but you'll still lose the attendance bonus."

"Today is a trial shift. If you pass, you'll receive five days' wages in advance. After that, wages will be paid on the tenth of each month."

"If there's anything you don't understand, ask now."

A worker raised his hand and asked, "What does full attendance mean?"

Dipti said, "Every day for a month, you must arrive on time and not leave early. Then you get an extra fifty rupees at the end of the month."

Someone else asked, "We have to work night shifts too? Jaya never had night shifts before?"

"Diya isn't Jaya. There will be work at night too, with an extra three rupees a day for night shifts."

"What if we take leave?"

"That day's wages are deducted, and you lose the attendance bonus."

Standing nearby, Abid couldn't contain himself anymore. He whispered to the people below, "The boss is offering ten times better than Prakash, and you're still asking questions!"

Ram tugged at him, and Abid shut his mouth.

Dipti glanced at Abid and said, "Anyone else with questions, ask them now. Anyone unwilling to accept the terms can leave."

Raju walked into the office and said, "Young master, we registered sixty-seven experienced workers and hired forty-five general laborers for now."

Aditya nodded at this and walked out of the office again.

The workers stood in several rows in the yard. He walked onto the steps and swept his gaze from the first row to the last. Not one person dared speak.

"Abid, you'll be the night-shift foreman. Ram, you'll be the day-shift foreman. Raju is your general supervisor. When I'm not here, Raju has the final say. Abid is responsible for problems with the machines. Ram handles scheduling. Divide everyone into two shifts in a bit."

"For questions about wages, ask Dipti."

With that, he returned to the office.

The workers grew noisy again. Some sought out Abid, while others crowded around Ram to ask about scheduling.

Abid and Ram barked at everyone to disperse, then gathered around Raju and Dipti to ask questions.

Diya Textile Factory began operations, and the machines rumbled to life.

For the first two days, the workshop was as chaotic as a marketplace. The new workers were unfamiliar with the work, shuttles went flying, and one worker was nearly struck in the face by a belt.

Abid shouted himself hoarse. Ram roamed the entire workshop, hauling workers who stood in the wrong places back where they belonged, one by one.

Aditya visited the factory for an inspection every day.

He didn't speak to the workers, only stood in the workshop and watched. Whenever a worker tried to approach and touch his feet, Raju stepped forward to stop them.

As a manager, Raju should have handled some production issues, but his abilities clearly fell short, so Aditya had no choice but to hand these day-to-day management duties over to Dipti as well.

As a result, those first few days kept Dipti terribly busy.

Whenever Aditya sat in the office, Dipti would come to complain. "We're out of yarn, the power's gone out, a machine's broken, someone's made another mistake."

At first, Aditya could still listen attentively to the end. Later, whenever he arrived at the factory, he simply stood beside the production line and watched, avoiding the office altogether.

Several times, Aditya was scared off by the reproachful look in Dipti's eyes when she chased him out of the office.

The resentment of this chosen wage slave was already enough to craft a King Yama Banner all on its own. Aditya declared outright that he couldn't afford to provoke her.

Over those days, Aditya took Raju along to resolve the factory's problems bit by bit. They made several trips to the Kanpur government offices and spent two hundred thousand rupees before smoothing out all the connections.

Government staff no longer held Diya Textile Factory back. It received priority electricity supply, its paperwork was fast-tracked through special approval, and the municipal government even exempted it from taxes for a year.

After a breaking-in period, the factory's machines and workers had also adjusted to one another, and production finally settled into a steady routine.

On the fifth day, the first batch of cloth was produced at Diya Textile Factory.

Madan returned from Varanasi. Aditya wanted his uncle to learn about managing a textile factory; making Dipti shoulder everything alone indefinitely was no solution.

As soon as Madan arrived in Kanpur, Aditya sent him on another trip to Lucknow.

When Madan heard his nephew's words, his face instantly darkened with anger. He had only just arrived in Kanpur and hadn't even warmed his seat before his nephew dispatched him to Lucknow again.

Still, Madan left with a dark expression. His nephew had assigned him legitimate business, and he couldn't refuse. This trip was to find buyers for Diya Textile Factory's products.

Back when Jaya was still alive, its products had been sold to cloth merchants in Lucknow. Aditya had the contact addresses of Jaya's business partners.

Madan left with a dark face and returned with one too.

"The buyer said Diya's cloth is usable, and he can place an initial order. If things stay stable in the future, he'll take half our output," he said.

Aditya said, "Have him pay a thirty-percent deposit first, with the balance settled on delivery. We're not Prakash. Did he agree?"

Madan nodded and answered, "I told him. He didn't agree, but he didn't refuse either. He said he wanted to see our output at the end of the month and the quality of the cloth."

Aditya nodded and said nothing more.

September fifteenth.

On the seventh day of operations, all twenty-eight machines in the workshop were running. The workers each performed their duties, and the production line operated in good order.

On the eighth day, Diya Textile Factory began ramping up production. Seeing that the factory was getting on track and could operate normally, Aditya felt he could leave.

Aditya needed to return to Varanasi. When Madan arrived, he had told him that Solomon was ill and wanted to see him.

Aditya still owed Solomon five hundred thousand rupees. This was a good opportunity to visit and thank the old Jewish man.