I didn't realise that this is all my education was worth..." said Ajay bhaiya gloomily. He had come to Delhi from his village near Jaunpur three months ago, but had been unable to get a good job. As the most educated man in his village (he was a post-graduate) he'd become used to a great deal of deference.

"Students used to come to me from as far as twenty kilometers away to study," he said, "but I have never believed in charging money to disseminate knowledge." He used to work as a teacher in his village: "I earned only Rs 1,500, but the respect that position brought me, compensated more than adequately!" said he.

Ajay bhaiya's troubles began when his daughter turned fifteen. His wife would berate him daily: "How can we save for her wedding on your meagre salary!" But better-paying jobs were impossible to find in Jaunpur.

He had no option but to seek his fortune in Delhi, where his brother Vijay lived. Although he'd barely scraped through class ten, Vijay earned Rs 7,000 as a driver. "With overtime," said he, "I take home almost double of that." He earnestly begged his brother to take up driving: "there's a dearth of good drivers in Delhi - you'll get a good job easily!" But Ajay bhaiya was an academic, a teacher. Driving was beneath him, he felt.

So he applied for a teaching position instead. However, success eluded him. "I don't understand why it is necessary for a Hindi teacher to speak good English," he said bitterly when he returned from yet another depressing interview.

With a post-graduate degree in Hindi, and a gold medal for his efforts, he was unable to find a teaching post. To pass time, he started teaching children in the neighbourhood. "Take tuitions," his brother advised. "Don't be silly!" Ajay bhaiya snapped: "how can I take money for helping students?"

Then Ajay bhaiya thought he'd apply for clerical jobs in offices. Day and night he scoured placement advertisements in newspapers. His only white shirt and blue trousers remained hanging on the back of the door - he didn't even get called for interviews. By now, Ajay bhaiya was getting disheartened. "There's no scope for a Hindi-speaking man to make his mark in this city," said he, "if only I'd studied history or political science instead!"

Then a neighbour suggested he apply for a job in the new guest house that was coming up near their colony. Off Ajay bhaiya went, without many hopes for his success. He returned with a bounce in his step and a box of sweets in his hand. "I've got the job," he cried jubilantly, "they said I fitted the bill perfectly!" Vijay and his wife were thrilled: "Of course they did!" said Vijay loyally, "where else would they find someone as educated and smart as my brother?"

Later, Vijay asked him what the job was about. Ajay bhaiya looked a little embarrassed: "it won't be much to start with - Rs 4,000 a month. But once I do a short course, I'll definitely get a better job!" But what did the job entail, Vijay asked? "This and that," Ajay replied vaguely, "odd jobs basically�but once I do that course, I'll be qualified for better stuff." His erudite brother doing odd jobs in a guesthouse...Vijay was indignant, but didn't want to rain on his brother's parade. "What other course can a gold medalist post-graduate possibly want to do?" he asked.

Ajay bhaiya whipped out a box full of audio cassettes - "a self study spoken English course, of course!"