Manager Shames Poor Immigrant, But He Gets The Last Laugh – Story of the Day

From the moment he arrives for an interview for an engineering position, Ravi is humiliated and discriminated against by a deplorable middle manager. Nevertheless, he accepts a janitorial job and patiently waits for the opportunity to turn the tables.

The lobby of the prestigious firm gleamed with the typical modernity of an American metropolis. The marble floors reflected the harsh glow of spotlights. Ravi, his suit impeccable yet feeling out of place amidst the polished environs, approached the receptionist's desk.

"Uh, hi there," Ravi began, clearing his throat. "I'm here for an interview with Mr. Dwight."

With an icy gaze that seemed to size him up and dismiss him simultaneously, the receptionist merely gestured toward a corridor. Laughter wafted through the air, muffled by the imposing doors at the end of the hall. Each step felt heavier as Ravi made his way forward, the sound of his shoes echoing his mounting unease.

As he reached the door, the laughter crescendoed, cutting through his resolve like a knife. With a steadying breath, Ravi knocked and entered Mr. Dwight's office.

The lavish decor, boasting plush mahogany furniture and ostentatious paintings, spoke of wealth and power that seemed worlds away from Ravi's reality. Mr. Dwight barely spared a glance at Ravi, engrossed in papers on his desk.

"Ah, the janitor," Mr. Dwight sneered.

Ravi stood there, his chest tightening at the words.

"I'm here for the Project Manager interview," he persisted.

"We have one opening... for the janitor," Mr. Dwight declared, his disdain palpable.

"But sir, I'm an electrical engineer with years under my belt," Ravi declared, explaining some of his experience and qualifications as quickly as possible. His resume was more impressive than those of all the candidates Mr. Dwight had seen that day.

But he didn't care. "You may have been a big shot in wherever third-world land you came from. But you will only ever be a janitor here. Take it or leave it," he announced, raising one eyebrow.

Ravi wanted to protest and walk out but hadn't found a job in a long time. He and Indira were one step from eviction, so his answer felt inevitable. "I accept," he responded, his shoulders sagging.

Exiting Mr. Dwight's office, the sound of mocking laughter lingered like a haunting melody.

***

The dimly lit apartment greeted Ravi with weary familiarity, its worn furniture contrasting sharply with the stacks of engineering magazines fighting for space. The scent of Indira's simmering stew mingled with the faint tang of cleaning chemicals clinging to Ravi's clothes, juxtaposing their dreams against their stark reality.

He slumped into a chair, the scratchy blue uniform a stark reminder of the day's humiliation. Indira, stirring the stew in a weathered pot, turned as she heard his heavy footsteps.

"A janitor? Are you serious?" Her voice barely rose above a whisper, eyes wide with concern as she took in Ravi's defeated posture.

He averted his gaze. "Landlord's on our back," he muttered. "They would only offer me this position.

The news hit Indira like a blow, her stirring hand freezing in the pot. Yet, beneath the initial shock, a defiant glimmer appeared in her eyes.

"We'll be alright," she declared, biting her lip. "You can do anything. Together. Like always."

"Yes, we will," Ravi promised.

***

A few days later, Mr. Dwight's office, usually a bastion of arrogance, now crackled with an air of desperation as Mr. Dwight huddled with his team, voices strained with the weight of a faltering project.

Ravi maneuvered the towel with practiced ease, cleaning spilled coffee, but he managed to hear a snippet of the conversation—the flaw that made Mr. Dwight and a few team members desperate. His mind started flying immediately, coming up with solutions.

Furtively, he reached for a crumpled piece of paper and a pencil from his pocket. His hand moved swiftly, scribbling furiously as his mind raced with possibilities. Diagrams and equations interwove on the paper, a mosaic of ideas birthed from the flaw he'd recognized.

Summoning his courage, Ravi later approached Mr. Dwigh. "Mr. Dwight," he ventured.

Mr. Dwight, ensconced in his authoritative air, glanced briefly at Ravi. "What is it, janitor?" His words dripped with patronizing dismissal.

"I believe I might have a solution for the project," he persisted. "I was wondering if I could come up with a proposal, too?"

Mr. Dwight waved a dismissive hand. "Come up with your proposal if you must," he relented, a smirk playing at his lips.

Ravi didn't care about the condescending smirk. He finished his shift and went home. Indira was up with him all night, bringing cup after cup of coffee to keep him awake.

***

The next day, a palpable tension lingered in Mr. Dwight's office. Ravi was clad in his janitorial attire yet armed with a proposal that held the seed of his dreams. With a trembling hand, he presented his meticulously crafted proposal to Mr. Dwight.

His boss, lounging in his opulent chair, barely looking at Ravi's offering. He scoffed derisively.

"Just what I expected from a janitor," Mr. Dwight sneered, tossing it callously into the nearby paper shredder.

Ravi's heart sank like a stone, the crushing weight of Mr. Dwight's arrogance threatening to smother his spirit. But as Mr. Dwight left the room, a fierce determination ignited within Ravi's soul. He wouldn't allow his voice to be silenced.

He retrieved the shredded pieces from the bin and methodically pieced together the remnants. But then, Ravi did something that could threaten the small opportunity to earn some money and keep his and Indira's apartment—he placed the taped-up proposal in the main project folder.

***

Within the stately boardroom, an air of anticipation hung thick. Mr. Dwight, his usual confidence replaced by a subtle hint of unease, attempted to present the half-baked remnants of his project to the company's big boss, Mr. Colbert.

While Mr. Dwight fumbled with his explanation and how it still wasn't finished, Mr. Colbert opened the project folder to find the taped-up pieces of paper. He eyed them curiously.

"Whose proposal is this?" Mr. Colbert inquired.

"What? I don't know," Mr. Dwight muttered, rubbing his sweating hands.

"Dwight! Tell me who made this!" Mr. Colbert demanded.

"It was the janitor!" Mr. Dwight blurted.

"Get him in here!"

Ravi was pulled into the boardroom by his angry boss, who told him he would be fired after he explained what happened to Mr. Colbert.

"Explain this," the big boss demanded, wrinkling his nose at the janitor.

This is my chance!

Ravi's eyes met Mr. Colbert's with unwavering conviction as he presented his ideas—the culmination of sleepless nights and indomitable determination.

Mr. Colbert listened intently. When Ravi was done, a genuine smile of appreciation appeared on the big boss's lips. "This is remarkable," he said.

A transformation washed over the room. Mr. Dwight's arrogance crumbled before the force of Ravi's brilliance.

"Ravi," Mr. Colbert addressed him, "I want you to take over this project, effective immediately!"

"Sir, that's my project!" Mr. Dwight complained.

Mr. Colbert squinted his eyes. "Didn't I ask you to hire a new engineer? You didn't do that, huh? Instead, you hired him as a janitor," the big boss stated. "Why? Were you threatened?"

Mr. Dwight stuttered a feeble excuse but couldn't explain why someone who could devise such an impressive solution would end up in the janitorial staff.

"I see," Mr. Colbert nodded. "You did it because of your own prejudices. That doesn't work in my company. You're the new janitor. Ravi, come tomorrow prepared for more. I want to see how far we can take this."

"Thank you, sir," Ravi said, grating Mr. Colbert's hands.

***

In the dimly lit confines of their home, anxiety hung thick in the air like a heavy shroud. Indira sat with Mr. Mandrake, their landlord, awaiting the inevitable—official notice of eviction.

Ravi arrived, as he had almost run to his home. He approached Mr. Mandrake with a worn envelope filled with crumpled bills.

The landlord counted the money, surprise flickering across his features as the total amount was presented. Indira's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Where did you get this, Ravi?" Indira breathed.

Ravi, holding Indira's gaze, smiled gently. "It was all because of you," he confessed.

"It's all here," Mr. Mandrake nodded. "Thank you. I really hate to evict people."

They thanked their landlord. Ravi and Indira hugged tightly when they were alone. "Ravi..." her voice trembled with emotion, her eyes glistening as she reached for his hand.

He clasped her hand tightly. "Thank you, Indira," Ravi's voice was deep and sincere. "For always believing in me, even when I doubted myself."

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