The Salesman

“Hi. I want to take a test drive.”

“Certainly, Sir. Can I please get your name and number?”

The lady at the car dealership in her usual nonchalance picked up the sales register, opened to the page that had neat columns and mostly illegible handwriting; only the contact number in each row, was clearly readable.

“I am Harsh, the number can wait.”

The lady looked up; her experience dissuaded her from insisting for the contact number.

She dialed a number.

“Sir, there is a customer looking for a test drive. The car has gone out, and no other car available now. Can I send the customer to your office?”

“Sir, please come this way.”

The glass door opened to a room, where the temperature made Harsh look at the airconditioner.

16 degrees.

“Sir, I am Matthews.”

The business card had his photo, taken at least a decade back. It read Branch Head.

“Matthews, I am Harsh and I want to know whether I can get the test drive?      

“Sir, the car has gone out and it will take 45mins to an hour. Can you please wait?”

“I can’t.”

“No problem Sir, if you can please let me know what time is convenient and your address, I will send the car.”

Harsh warmed up to the courteous gesture; he left his address and contact number on the sales register row.

“Vinita, please get my phone and check who is calling?

“It is a number, and please pick your phone yourself; it’s weekend for me, too.”

Vinita enjoyed the look on her husband’s face, who instantly smiled back at her.

“Yes, I am Harsh. Who is this?

“Ok, so when are you coming?”

Vinita had grown tired of her husband’s two-week old car hunt. From Youtube reviews to visiting showrooms, checking with friends, Harsh was obsessed about his next car.

The doorbell rang, and Harsh knew who was supposed to be at the door.

“Sir, I am Kailash from Excel Motors. Matthews Sir sent me.”

The white shirt had worn down, the deep green tie badly needed a dry cleaning; the black trousers were one size higher and shoes had gone through few rounds of mending.

“Sir, can I please see your driving license?”

He made a quick note on the test drive form.

Harsh took to the wheel, and the engine hummed to life.

“What is the engine power, and torque?”

Kailash quickly took out his brochure file from his untidy bag and rummaged through the catalogues to pick the product brochure for his reference.

“Sir, 120ps and 160NM”

“Ok”

Harsh did not like the brevity of the answer, as he did not get the RPM figures for each. His research of past two weeks had taught him that engine power and torque without the RPM figure is inadequate in order to assess engine’s ability and time to accelerate from stop and reach top speed.

He drove on the empty Sunday road, and liked the response of the car and engine.

“The suspension isn’t great. What is the suspension system?”

Kailash again looked at the brochure, with initial sweat dots on his forehead.

“Sir, can I check with Matthews Sir?”

“Leave it. Do you know if this has rain sensing wipers?”

“Sir, can I note that and come back to you?”

There was complete silence for next seven minutes, and Harsh drove back to his apartment gate.

“Ask Matthews to call me. Thanks.”

“Sir, when are you expecting to buy the car? I can help with financiers, and documentation.”

Harsh did not answer.

Kailash watched Harsh disappear from the gate, and he wiped the sweat on his face. Turning on the AC and increasing the blower speed, he drove back to the showroom.

“Matthews, you sent a complete idiot, who knows nothing about the car, or for that matter any car. It is these kind of people who ruin the sales for any good product.”

He hung up on the hapless branch head.

A week later…

“Yes, Harsh here”

“Sir, this is Kailash from Excel Motors. Can I please take a minute?”

“No, I am busy and I am not interested.”

“Sir, I only called to say sorry.”

“I don’t want your sorry. Please don’t call, and I would suggest you to do your homework. Even I am in a sales profile, and knowing my product and client is at the core of what I do.”

“Yes, Sir”

“But why am I wasting time with you, thanks bye.”

Two weeks later...on a Sunday morning in the fish market…

“Navya, what would you like to eat today – fish or prawns.”

Harsh asked his six year old daughter, held in his arms.

“Papa, eggs!”

The fisherman burst with laughter, and Harsh chuckled.

“Mohan bhai, pomfret six pieces and two kg prawns please.”

“Sir, is there some party at home today? This is not your usual order.”

“Yes Mohan bhai, some friends coming over.”

As the prawns were getting cleaned, Harsh saw a familiar face at a distance, at another fish shop.

It was Kailash.

Kailash also noticed him, and walked up to him.

“Sir, hello. Is she your daughter?”

“Yes. How are you?”

“I am fine. Please meet my daughters – Rina in Class 3, and Riya in Nursery.”

Harsh looked at them; they looked thin and not their age.

“Kailash, I have to leave. Talk to you some other day.”

“Ok, Sir. Sir, did you buy a new car?”

“Not yet, still looking.”

“Sure. If there is anything I can help with, please do let me know. You have my number, Sir?”

“No. Thank you.”

Kailash quickly pulled out from his pocket, a business card and handed over.

Harsh took it and left; he looked back once, at the two girls.

That evening…in the party.

“Hey Vinita, did your husband buy his new car? He must have consulted everybody, including President Obama.”

Deven, Harsh’s childhood friend, usually took unrestrained dig at him.

“Ask your friend. He may leave me for a car.”

Finishing his third drink, Harsh enjoyed the banter.

“Hey Harsh, that car which you test drove last, how is it?”

“It is very good, but the salesman I met was a thorough good-for-nothing.”

Deven poured himself another drink.

“I heard good reviews from two of my colleagues who bought it, and there are 3-4 looking to buy. If you are interested, I can introduce them and all of you guys can strike a deal with Excel Motors.”

“You are buying the car, not marrying the salesman.”

Deven had another round of what Harsh called the “evil laugh”.

But, the idea stuck to Harsh.

The following week, Deven introduced Harsh to his other colleagues; now this was a five car order and definitely eligible for some discount.

Harsh volunteered to lead the negotiation with Excel Motors, and the showroom was closer to his house.

Returning from an official tour of ten days, Harsh blocked that weekend for the car negotiation.

“Vinita, where is that business card of that joker from Excel Motors? I had kept it on the refrigerator.”

“You had asked me to tear and throw it away.”

“What? Are you crazy, why would I say that?”

“Here it is.”

“But you said, you tore and threw it away.”

Vinita sat in front of Harsh, and took his hand in her hand.

“I don’t tear things and throw away, as one never knows what one can use later. Until you buy a car, I

knew you would go searching for contacts, brochures you have collected from showrooms, so I have kept all of them in a folder.”

“Thank you, Vinita.”

With the prospect of now buying his car ready, Harsh dialed the number on the card.

“This number is no longer in use. Please check the number.”

The IVR repeated.

Harsh searched for Matthews’s business card in the folder; he could not find.

May be he had torn and threw it away, himself.

In the evening, Harsh visited the showroom and asked for Matthews.

“Hello Sir, welcome back.”

“Hi Matthews, you seem to remember me.”

“Yes Sir, it is our job. Moreover, Kailash always spoke about you.”

“Oh, did he?”

“Yes, he did. From your lessons on preparing for a sales call, to be good during a meeting – he worked on it.”

“That’s very good. In fact, I have come with a 5 car order for me and my friends. I was looking for him, and his number is not reachable. Can you please call him? I better get a good discount on this deal, as that man definitely boiled my blood.”

Harsh finished with a smile.

Matthews cleared his throat.

“Sir, can I get you some tea or, cold drink?”

“Tea. Can you please call Kailash?”

“Sir, thank you for the order. I will personally raise for a higher discount approval to my Head Office and confirm by tomorrow. What tea would you like – plain, or black?”

“Matthews, I asked for Kailash before I ordered that tea. So where is he?”

“Sir, he is not working here anymore.”

“What?”

“Sir, he quit a week back.”

“Why? Where is he now?”

“Sir, we don’t know. He came with a resignation letter, asking for immediate release, and we did his settlement within 3 days.”

“Matthews, are you telling me that someone worked under you and you know nothing about his whereabouts? Tell me what you know.”

Matthews stood from his seat, walked to the door and shut it.

“Kailash worked with a spare parts dealer that supplied parts to our company workshop. Three months back, the spare parts dealer shut shop, so he came asking for a job. We had nothing to offer, but we took him temporarily, as one of our employees who stays close to his house shared that his wife was terminally ill, and he had two daughters to also look after.”

Harsh kept looking at his hot tea cup, listening mindfully.

Matthews cleared his throat again, and continued.

“The day I sent him to your house for the test drive, was his first day at work.”

“Two weeks back his wife passed away. With two daughters, this difficult sales job and demanding customers, he decided to quit and leave for his village.”

Harsh asked for a glass of water.

After a while, he left the showroom thanking Matthews.

In the Bookings register, he left his address, contact number, an advance payment cheque and a note – “Thank you, Kailash. You won.”