This is my story. Me who ? I am the Infosys Umbrella. Actually we don't have individual names like you humans do because we were not named by our creators: the humans. But we do consider them our parents who gave us form, character, colour, structure and a goal to live for. Our aim in life - "To protect as many humans as possible from natural elements like rain and sun. And thank God, it does not snow in Infy. Brrrr.. I have heard sad stories of some of my brothers in colder countries where they have to bear the freezing winters.
Coming to our origin, we were mostly handmade by humans in the early days but now we are mass produced in factories using materials like steel, wood, nylon and plastic. Our features depend on the machines that manufacture us and sometimes on the humans who give us their final touches. We all look alike after we come out from a factory assembly line except for our colours may be. Some of us are blue, some yellow, some red and some with bright patterns made of dots, flowers or cartoons. The unlucky ones and mind you they are large in number are black in colour. Somehow most humans prefer us to be black. An antithesis perhaps to the Apartheid fought in Africa and the Pre-Martin Luther King,Jr. era in America. Physiologically or rather structurally we are not that different from you humans. We have a strong but flexible skeletal structure, an outer skin covering made of cloth or nylon, a central spinal column like shaft and a handle substituting for hands and legs. What we apparently lack is a brain of our own unless humans decide to make us umbrellas more smart in the future by implanting silicon chips which take care of the opening and closing functions automatically by judging the climatic conditions outside. And beyond that, may be convert us into some kind of a whacky gizmo like a highly energy laser gun when folded or into a small aperture satellite antenna dish when unfolded. My imagination is running riot here. Coming back, we umbrellas do have a face which is visible when we are put to use by humans. Our dull monochromatic faces or bright coloured cheerful faces always look up towards the skies.
Physical challenges confront us in our day to day life. Be it facing the torrential downpour of rain or the scorching heat from the mid afternoon sun. But we did rather face these challenges than to lay idle in one of the many umbrella stands located in strategic locations within the Infosys campus. Life is fun when we keep shifting bases from one umbrella stand to the other. It is then that we get to meet different umbrellas. We share our experiences and enjoy our company as long as we are together. But the sad part is that we never get to travel much. Just within the confines of this campus. The maximum may be till the place where these gigantic rectangular boxes with four big wheels stand. These boxes take in as many people as they can and then God knows what it does with them. May be it takes them to some God forbidden location and later devours them. Despite this, day in and day out, I see these foolish people climb into these mysterious large boxes they call a "Bus". I sometimes also see these boxes spitting out people. Probably it does so when its stomach is full and is not able to take in anymore. This cycle repeats several times during the day. I have heard humans call this bizarre happenings as "Shifts".
Someday I would like to go beyond this place and explore the world. I keenly observe my other friends who belong to the humans go along with them peacefully resting in their bags. I envy them because they have seen the world outside. Places like the bazaars, the streets, the parks, the temples, and the theaters which I have only heard of. Sometimes if they are lucky, they even get to see places outside this city. I have heard stories from an old umbrella friend of mine who has been half way around this world with his human owner. His owner, an old man was sentimentally attached to our friend and would take him wherever he went unmindful of the weather outside. And he was kind enough not to be replacing him with another fancier looking umbrella; especially with the new breed of "foldable" types which become really compact after folding and hence easier to carry and much lighter.
Sometimes, I beg people to carry me along with them but these heartless humans drop me right before they get swallowed by these "buses". May be its their way of showing gratitude by protecting me from these "bus" monsters. Never know, but I have a weird feeling that this name "Infosys" imprinted on our faces has got something to do with us not being able to cross the boundaries.
Our working hours are random. As random as the rain or sunshine outside but the rest of the time we are free to enjoy our siestas. There are two days in every week when there are very few souls around and that gives us more time to sleep or to catch up with old friends, listen to their stories or gossip about what others are upto.
During these two days, I also get a chance to see some aged humans and some really young ones, the toddlers. These kids really like to play with us rather than putting us to lame use which the grown-ups thoughtlessly do. I thoroughly enjoy their company and take pleasure in letting them have fun with me around. During the other days, its rather monotonous work and gets pretty boring at times. I sometimes listen to their(human) banter, the language of which is very queer to me. They talk things like Jawa, Daetabase, Codin, Deadlynes, Proposalles, Apprysalles or the most repeated word - Meet-ins. I wonder if these are the names of places they will be visiting after office hours or more likely they must be the names of their kids, siblings or close friends. However, I prefer to ignore their strange talk at most times and carry on with my work.
There are happier days when there is not much work and then there are the sad days when I feel all alone in my make shift home - the umbrella stand. At times, tragedies do strike some of my friends who get injured by accidentally coming under the big monster's wheels. Otherwise its due to the mishandling or misuse by humans or in general its the age and fatigue that wears them down. In such cases, they are either sent to the IURC (Infosys Umbrella Rehabilitation Centre) for repair and rejuvenation or in the worst case when they become irreparable, they are abandoned or cast into the cemetery called the "Scrap yard" along with other unusable umbrellas and metal scrap. This is a place we umbrellas most dread but finally end up. God knows what happens to these helpless friends after that. They say they get "Recycled" into new ones giving them a fresh lease of life.
So much for my story. Someday, when the incessant exposure to sun and rain will erase the "Infosys" name from my face, that day I would get my freedom to venture all alone into this mysterious world outside of Infosys and have my share of adventures. With that hope I continue to live.
