The Story of the Happy Cleaner

"Do you clean the room yourself?"
"Yes, sir."
"What's your name?"
"Rahim."
"Good. Please clean the room properly. The office looks nice when it's clean."

(Until then, Rahim had been scrubbing the tiled floor with his head down. When I said this, he looked up and stood respectfully.)

"Sir, why are you suddenly saying this? I've been cleaning floors for the past twenty-two years. No senior officer has ever had anything to say about my work."
"No, no, Rahim, I'm not criticizing you. Just keep doing your work well. That's all."
"Sir, this is my livelihood and my children's livelihood. I love cleaning floors, sir."

Rahim must have been around 40-45 years old. I was struck by his sense of self-respect and love for his work. That was my first day in that office. On my very first day, I learned something new from him—how to love your job, how to view your work with respect, and how to do that work so well that you can be confident about its quality in front of others, speak of it with pride. I had never found the concept of a job particularly pleasant. Like Jibanananda, I would say, "There is no pure job in this world." If Rabi Babu had worked a job, he surely would have written, "The job that is difficult, I loved the difficult one, which always brings deprivation." Yet we work, we have to work, that's why. A job is such an illusory thing. Only as long as you have a job can you call it bad. To curse a job, you need to have a job first.

Job for life. Not, life for job. Yet a job takes away many things. The rule of the world is that nothing can be given without taking something away. Give and take. Life passes in this—or rather, gets cut away. If you stay depressed about your job, it's a complete loss. If you think you deserve a better job, stop complaining and just go for it! As simple as that! Well, what I was saying. I was in that office for six months. In those six months, I never saw Rahim ask for tips. Even when I or my officers offered them, he would politely refuse. None of us had enough money to tip him even a penny.

Rahim has two children. His older son studies electrical engineering at BUET. (He's my Facebook friend. At that time, he was in his second year, first semester.) His younger daughter had just been admitted to marketing at Chittagong University that year. By the way, this incident took place in late 2012.

Rahim says with pride, "Sir, Allah has given me so much. I offer my gratitude to Allah. I've never needed any money for my two children. I couldn't afford to give them private tutoring. The school teachers gave them free tutoring after test exams. I'm an uneducated man. Everyone says they're doing very well. It feels good to hear good things about them from everyone. My son sends me eight thousand taka every month. I don't need that much money. After finishing my daughter's education, I'll get her married. I'm saving money, sir."
"Who else is at your home?"
"Sir, just me and my wife. My daughter stays in the hostel. My wife does a little sewing work. I've told her not to. I said, it's not necessary anymore, take rest. She doesn't listen. She says she doesn't like to sit idle and eat."
"Do you do anything else after office?"
"No sir, I stay at home. My wife stays alone all day, it's hard for her. I help her with work, talk to the children on the phone. On holidays we go to watch movies, we roam around. Allah has kept us very well, sir. He hasn't given us illness, hasn't given us any trouble."

Rahim's work had captivated me. The dust in the corner of the cabinet that wasn't even visible to the eye—Rahim would clean that too. He always worked with a smiling face. I learned from him that there's no such thing as a small job or big job. What makes a job small or big is mainly our perspective, not the job itself. We get jobs according to our qualifications and destiny. He had another wonderful quality that he never told anyone about. He donated two thousand taka every month to an orphanage. I would often call him to my room to chat, give him good advice. I would take simple lessons in life philosophy from this uneducated man. Watching him, I understood how much happiness there is in living simply. I would think, how complexly we live!

He would say, "Sir, all people in the world live through someone or another. If we don't look after these orphaned children, who will? Allah keeps me very well. Why does He keep me well? There must be some reason! If someone lives a little better because of me, what's the problem in that?" I would listen to stories of his life from him. "Sir, I've struggled a lot to raise my children properly. I've fed them without eating myself. I could never give them good clothes, couldn't feed them expensive food, but I bought them proper books and notebooks. From when they reached ninth grade, they've been managing their study expenses through tutoring. During Eid, my wife would sew new clothes for others, but couldn't buy new clothes for herself. My son and all his friends together teach some street children for free in the evenings in Dhaka. I was very happy to hear that. We've never cheated anyone. Allah has never cheated us either."

Well, what is success? Living without regrets is success. You don't need many big degrees to survive in life, you don't need too much money; you need happiness, peace, love. Rather than carrying life's burdens for many days with suffering, it's better to live the life of a small sparrow. As long as there's breath, there's fluttering about. Life means waking up in the morning without regrets, going to sleep at night with the love of close people. That's it! It's not about working for the country's and people's welfare while admitting your own son to a drug rehabilitation center. I know a Harvard graduate whose only son, after passing HSC, got admitted to an obscure private university. He spends some time with bands and some time doing drugs. That's how that boy's life is passing.

When your son gets out of the expensive car bought with your money, smoking cigarettes, bottle of Black Label in hand, heading to a nightclub, and if this troubles you, then you cannot escape responsibility for this pain yourself. What could be the best legacy for your child? Money? Never. I've seen many rich people cripple their healthy sons by giving them more money than necessary. The son of a very senior officer I know and his driver's son both took the medical admission exam together. The driver's son now studies at Dhaka Medical College while the officer's son studies at a private medical college. You tell me, which legacy is better? (I humbly request my readers to understand the inner meaning of this statement. This is in no way venom against anyone or any system.) When children of uneducated or barely educated parents go far, it can definitely be said that those parents' life philosophy is far ahead of many highly educated failed parents' life philosophy.

Life philosophy is greater than certificate education. If you leave many fish in your children's hands, they might eat well for a few meals. But what happens when the fish runs out? It's better to teach them how to fish. They can catch and eat by themselves. The fish will never run out. Bill Gates' children seem to me the most unfortunate children in the world. They will never find the search for a 'better' lifestyle.

And, by the way, Rahim's name isn't actually Rahim.

P.S. I'm sharing one of the key appreciations of this story. The appreciation is from Soumitro da.

Sushanto, excellent! Really doing a wonderful job! You're teaching people to dream and inspiring them to choose a beautiful path. I wholeheartedly salute this effort of yours. I've been doing this myself for a long time. But I can only help those who come before me, or those I meet. Their number is very limited. I can't write that much. You're writing for everyone. Your thoughts are reaching everyone through your writing. This is a great work, helping to bring positive change in someone's life. You're weaving dreams for everyone by giving free seminars. Our society needs this. Many people might want to do this. But how many are actually doing it? If you have time, come meet me. I'll really enjoy it. I stay very busy, but I still make time to read your writing. I've become a fan of your writing. May God bless you.

That story you wrote? The story of the happy cleaner. Rahim's life story. Believe me, brother, I liked it very much. Very good example, I must say! The story of loving work, the philosophy of living the most beautiful life in the simplest way. This has been very timely. Brother, I know how much struggle it takes to earn a single penny. The children of industrialists will never know that. I tell my senior industrialist friends, let your son get to know the ways of the world. Don't keep him crippled. Let them understand the labor through which you became who you are today. It hurts when I see that most of the time, none of them agree to this proposal. I tell them, let their children learn how difficult it is to earn money. If they directly make their children directors/owners of companies, they'll never have this experience of how to deal with people. Because their staff will behave with them as owners should be treated, and they won't be able to see and understand the real picture of where the company's actual problems lie. They can even start their careers as employees in the company, but never directly as directors/owners!!