Do I reek?

I walked into work today, and my assistant, Soham, was already waiting by my office door. There’s nothing he does that a calendar can’t do, but I never got around to getting rid of him. In the six years that he has worked for me, he has looked me in the eye twice, and both of those times, I had asked him to check what had got into my eye.

“Yes, what is it today?”

“You have meetings lined up all day,” he said.

“Lunchtime?”

“Gone, sir. I will order you a sandwich. Also, the lawyer sent in this bill. I need your signature on it.”

“Great. I pay him this hefty sum, and all he could get me was two visits a month. That is 26 less than what my wife has. How much money did she pay?” I asked him.

He kept staring at his shoes.

“Look me in the eye and answer me, Soham!” There it was. Our 2.5ᵗʰ eye contact.

“I am sorry, sir.”

“When do I get to see my child next?”

“This weekend will be your first visit of the month.”

That pacified me a little, and I asked him what else was on the agenda.

“Dr. Acharya’s appointment with you is today as well.”

“Oh god! Not Bummer Acharya. He always has something negative to say.”

I found this company 15 years ago, and though it eats up most of my time, it has brought me all my glory. I made this prototype on my dad’s computer, and that same prototype made me an employer of around 300 people. I can’t walk on my office floor without getting at least 250 ‘looking good, boss,’ because the other 50 say, ‘Have you been working out, boss?’ So you can imagine I am not used to having Bummer Acharya, someone I pay quite generously, point out something negative about me.

“Just lay it out,” I told him after he performed all the medical tests in the book on me.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. You have high cholesterol. Most of my patients your age have it.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary for you. I don’t see any other patients. How to bring this cholesterol thing down?”

“Eat healthy. Also, you have to start exercising. You can walk to work.”

That is where it started. I let my car sit in the garage for the first time in many years and started walking to work. I would put on my headphones and walk without regard for what and whom I was passing by. But then, one day, I forgot my headphones at home and started noticing things on my walk to the office. First, a guy raised his eyebrows as he walked by me. Then another girl widened her eyes. Then I walked past a guy who covered his nose with his hand. I tried to rationalise this, but after I saw a person visibly gag, I knew something was afoot. There is something horribly wrong with me. What is it? How do I find out?

I called a meeting of all the managers working under me and asked them if something was wrong with me.

“No, boss,” they said in unison.

“You can be honest,” I said. I believe I was being quite encouraging.

“Honestly, boss. Nothing is wrong with you.” Again in unison. I very well could have just talked with one of them, and the net gain from the meeting would have been the same. How much money do I have to pay for some honest opinions?

As I walked back to my house in the evening, I saw a woman give me a look of disgust. How long before I get used to this? I thought I would grab this opportunity and just ask her what the matter was. I followed and caught up to her.

“Excuse me, can you please tell me what is wrong with me?”

“Get away!” She increased her pace.

“Please. I need to know. What is wrong with me? Please tell me.”

At this point, she started to run. Admittedly, I did think about it, but quickly decided against it. I was not going to run behind a woman, no matter how good it was for my cholesterol levels. How am I going to fix myself before my daughter’s visit?

I thought until late in the night and landed upon this idea: if I get enough people around me at the same time, at least one of them has to tell me what is wrong with me. So, I got up in the morning and took a crowded bus to the office. Even in the packed space, there was a visible radius around me that no one entered. Finally, a man broke the silence and yelled, “What is wrong with you, man? You stink!” I entered the bus, a man unsure about his condition, and I was thrown out, a man having his condition yelled out to him. At last, I knew what I had to fix about myself. A simple odour.

I skipped the office and went to the supermarket near my house, where I bought myself a premium perfume. Having applied it, I got on the bus and was promptly thrown out. This runs deep, I realised. I went to the supermarket again. The cashier had given me a stare the first time I went. It got worse this time. I picked an expensive soap and bath bombs and walked towards the counter. The cashier stood far away from the counter. She told me to leave the money on the desk and walk away. She was proud of my purchase, but she sent me out with a warning. “Next time you come smelling like this, I will have to ask you to leave.”

When I reached home, I took a nice bath and soaked myself for almost an hour, changing the water three times. I got ready again and got on the bus. I was thrown out again. That must be a record.

I realised my stink must have settled on all my clothes. I went back to the supermarket again. The cashier saw me entering and she started sniffing aggressively.

“Hey! What did I warn you the last time?”

“I am sorry. I am so sorry. I am trying to fix it.”

“Fix it and then come back. Security!”

Soon, two security guards showed up at the scene.

“I am just here to get some clothes. Please, let me have them,” I said.

“Why are you just standing there? Throw him out,” she said, addressing the guards.

“Ma’am, we cannot go close to him. He stinks a lot.”

One of the guards ran out to puke, which was quite excessive, but what else had the past few days been about? I went home and asked Soham to send over a dozen new suits. I got rid of all of my older clothes and sanitised the cupboard. I sat in the bathtub for another hour and dressed myself in one of the new suits.

You must already have guessed that it didn’t help either. I sat on a bench near the bus stop. I had come to realise that no matter how many changes I made, the stink was here to stay. How long had I been carrying this odour on me? The only place I went besides my home was the office, and no one there would tell me a thing. Is that why my second standard teacher made Zehra the class monitor and not me? I had not timed it, but my father definitely gave a longer speech at my sister’s wedding than mine. Is that why I did not get a second date with the girl I went out with from our college? My daughter had once taken a weird tone while asking me to close the door. She must have sniffed it on me, too. And that time, the beggar skipped my car at the traffic signal. I must have stunk all those times. A lot of things came to me, and I could make sense of all of them.

I got a call from my daughter.

“Hello, beta!” I said, picking up the phone.

“Hey, Dad.” She sounded low.

“Excited to see you tomorrow,” I said.

“Yes, about that- I won’t be able to come, Dad. My friends and I have plans.”

I went silent. In some situations, it just doesn’t seem worth the effort to come up with sentences.

“Dad, are you there?”

“Is it because I stink?”

She went silent this time.

“Is it because I stink?” I reiterated.

“I didn’t think you would ever realise.”

“Can you tell me what it is?”

“I don’t know, Dad. It smells like.. something rotten.. dead. It is not your clothes or anything.”

“Yes, I know that now.”

“I can’t help you with it,” she said.

I woke up the next morning and got in my car. After that, I went to the office only by car. I walked on the office floor every morning. There they were, my 250 ‘looking good, boss,’ because the other 50 said, ‘Have you been working out, boss?’

“Can you tell me what it is?”

“I don’t know, Dad. It smells like.. something rotten.. dead. It is not your clothes or anything.”

“Yes, I know that now.”

“I can’t help you with it,” she said.

I woke up the next morning and got in my car. After that, I went to the office only by car. I walked on the office floor every morning. There they were, my 250 ‘looking good, boss,’ because the other 50 said, ‘Have you been working out, boss?’