The Contract

The Dean was new. He had come five months ago, and had utilized that time in observing the way the college functioned. Everybody was happy.

"But why doesn't he speak?"

He would often be seen strolling around the corridors, greeting people with a smile.

Then before the start of the second semester, he called a meeting for the faculty members of the Department of English.

"Please sit down."

The 24 faculty members sat down.

He took his seat and observed the people gathered in the meeting hall.

"Well, the reason to call you here today is one. We want a department that delivers. And I want you to give suggestions as to how we can achieve that."

Everybody started at him in silence.

"I have been observing the way our faculty members go about their job…"

He stopped.

"We didn't get you here for nothing."

Everybody stiffened.

"A university is an agent of change in the society. And that change has to flow from you — the faculty member — your discipline; your punctuality; your attitude; your manners; your behaviour; your personality…"

They all were listening without any movement.

"But I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You fail to achieve even the basic."

The Dean lifted his hands.

"I don't know how to put it. The other day I saw one of you scratching his groin in the classroom. Now is this what you expect from a faculty member?"

There was no noise except his voice.

"Not just that. Several of you wear crumpled, and at times smelly clothes to the college. I mean what do you expect the students to learn from you if they can't even stand near you?... I cannot for sure."

The Head of the Department, sitting near the Dean, looked towards the bolt of the door.

"And then your footwear… Why can't we all wear shoes to the college? Why must our appearance be such that we're mistaken for the cleaning staff?"

Some faculty members looked towards the floor.

"I don't understand…I don't understand this. We pay you salaries. We get you from overseas. What for?"

They were all silent. The Head of the Department who always wore a suit was playing with his pen.

"This is not acceptable. Either you must improve yourselves or pack your bags."

Just then a low muffled human sound emanated from under a chair at the back. It was a faculty member. Everybody looked at him. Nobody laughed. The Dean looked at the Head.

"Now look at this. Is this what you do in a meeting with a Dean? I mean in a meeting do you expect suggestions and intellectual insights from a faculty member or do you expect this?"

The face of the faculty member turned red, and he looked down in his lap. The Dean was not looking at him.

"No. No. No. Such behaviour is unacceptable."

Just then, the Head urgently got up and left the meeting hall. The Dean was looking outside the big window at the back. Outside the window was a huge yellow desert with wavy sand dunes.

"I don't know why I am even talking about all this…"

He continued to look outside the window. His eyes were fixed at the desert.

"I don't know why I need to even talk…"

The Head returned with a red spray can. It had flowers printed on it. He walked around the hall, smiling and spraying the contents of the can in the air. The hall filled with a sweet artificial smell. The Head returned to his seat, put the cap back on the spray can and kept it near his feet.

The Dean was still looking at the desert. His gaze had turned stony. He was not speaking.

The faculty members turned around to see if there was something in the horizon — nothing except the yellow sand. They turned towards the Dean and waited for him to speak.

The Dean was silent. His eyes were fixed at the desert and his face had become expressionless, like in sleep.

The Head looked at the Dean and smiled. But he was gazing at the desert.

The Head signaled a faculty member at the back. He got up and opened the window. A gust of hot air rushed in and diluted the chill of the air-conditioned hall.

The Dean was still looking outside the window. The Head lifted his pen and pocked the Dean's thigh from under the table. The Dean jolted, as if out of sleep. He spoke without a pause.

"Well…I think we are going to shut this department."

A vacuum filled the perfumed hall. The Dean was not looking at anybody in particular.

"After this semester, your contracts will not be renewed."

"But sir…"

"Thank you for your time."

The Dean got up and left.

One of the faculty members got up and hurried after him.

"But sir, only yesterday I bought a blazer… I'm going wear it from the next week."

The Dean was walking swiftly.

"Now you may keep it with you and take it back to your country."

"No sir, I have no use for it."

"I don't care. Why didn't you buy it earlier? Why didn't you wear it earlier?"

"I was waiting for the right time, sir."

"Yes, but your right time has expired long ago."

"Please sir, it is expensive…300 riyal."

"So?...What should I do?"

The Dean quickened his pace.

"Fine, wear it this semester if you like. But that does not mean that your contract be renewed. We are going to cancel all the contracts."

"There is not point, sir."

"Fine, do what you like."

"Please, sir."

"Please what?"

The faculty member hesitated in his steps.

"See if you can use it."

The Dean stopped, and thought for a while. He spoke slowly.

"But your size will not fit me."

"I will get it exchanged, sir. The shop does not return. They only allow exchange within a week."

"What colour is it?"

"Black."

"Fine. My size is 46."

"Thank you so much, sir. Thank you so much."

The Dean started to leave.

"Sir…I'm sorry. I paid 300 riyals for it. It's new… If you could give me 50 less."

The Dean thought for a while.

"No, no, no, no… That's too much."

"It's new, sir."

He again thought.

"Fine."

The Dean handed him a 50 riyal note and started towards his office.

"The rest when you get the blazer."

***