Myths, Morals & more…

In the office, bosses are equivalent to Gods (and in some cases the Devil!). We pray for their support and hope we don’t have to face their wrath. They are invisible yet omniscient. And there is nothing like a tour with your boss to break the ice and glean into his “mortal” persona. Probably because more alcohol is consumed on such excursions than water. Where I work, it’s imperative that you drink. This was made clear in my first office party – drink or perish. Survival of the alcoholic.

While touring the Maharashtrian hinterland with four colleagues whose combined work experience is more than 150 years, I got to hear a myriad of anecdotes ranging from wildlife to politics to farcical mythology. These are some of the more fascinating ones which flowed after they were sufficiently drunk and the morals that I assumed they meant to convey…

 Shiva, the Destroyer was bored when his consort Parvati was visiting her parents. He only had Nandi the bull to keep him company. After dancing around Mount Kailash for a few days, they made a pact to satisfy each other’s needs. Shiva, being the God went first. When

Nandi’s turn came, Shiva got so scared that he fled and went into an enclosure whose entrance wasn’t big enough for the bull to pass through. To this day, statues of Nandi are depicted sitting outside the temple, facing the idol and patiently waiting for him to come out and finally get his due.

Moral: Never screw a bull. \m/

One fine day Indra, God of War, Storms, and Rainfall; decided to test the villagers’ devotion and make himself feel important (I wonder why as he was God of sooooooooo many things!!!). So he called all the clouds and instructed them not to burst. One of them was a little hard of hearing and did. This made Indra very angry. He called the culprit and thunderously asked him why he had disobeyed express instructions. To this the cloud replied that he hadn’t heard clearly the first time and even if he did go against Indra’s wishes; his actions had only furthered the god’s intentions. The village where it had rained had sown all its seeds in the hopes of more rainfall thereby exhausting its existing stock with no foreseeable returns.

Moral: Always keep reserve stock in case of force majeure conditions.

Upon hearing Indra’s decision, Shiva also decided to stop playing his conch which apparently brought fertility to the lands surrounding Mt. Kailash. All the farmers but one migrated to lands under the jurisdiction of more benevolent Gods (thank God for polytheism!). When his curiosity got the better of him, Shiva decided to ask the remaining farmer why he had stayed back. The farmer replied that he still kept tilling the soil and sowing the seeds because he did not want to forget his métier once the fertility of the soil was restored. Realising that he had not played his conch in years, Shiva immediately started blowing out the dulcet tones to the delight of the farmer.

Moral: Keep in practice what you are good at.

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P.S.: For those who don’t know and/or are confused (like I was):

Bull: an adult un-castrated male domestic bovine
Cow:  the mature female of cattle
Ox: an adult castrated male domestic bovine
Bovine:  any of a subfamily (Bovinae) of bovids including oxen, bison, buffalo, and their close relatives
Bovids:  any of a family (Bovidae) of ruminants that have hollow un-branched permanently attached horns present in usually both sexes and that include antelopes, oxen, sheep, and goats

Short Story - I

HR people have the toughest job nowadays. With the economy bouncing back, attrition rates are expected to rise. Retaining your employees in such a scenario is an arduous task. Recently, my employers have organised a story-writing competition targeted towards this objective.

This is a short story that I submitted based on the picture theme. Only three people outside my organisation have read it and their response was that it is too esoteric. Surprisingly, it got selected and now I have to submit another story which is also to be narrated.

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Theme: I interpreted the theme as the flame which is the closest blinds us to those which burn equally (if not more) brightly but are farther. I have tried to relate this perceptive phenomenon to the cerebral one. In our quotidian exchanges, we tend to overlook the brilliance of those who aren’t close to us in favour of familiar faces. Although such indulgences are fine and dandy in our personal life, it is imperative that as a professional we are objective, delimited and inclusive.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

The Road Not Taken

“There comes a time in the life of every nation when it stands at the cross-roads of history and must choose which way to go” – Lal Bahadur Shastri

27 December, 2010. 12:45 p.m.

“We picked wrong” said the guttural voice over the phone.

“The other one wouldn’t have listened to us” the woman replied.

“Bah! Admit it. You’re out of your depth.”

“I’ll prevail as always.”

“I’ve been asked to testify against you and I intend to. Unless you have something for me….”

“You’ve always made me laugh. Testify if you want to. But remember, if I’m acquitted, you’d be hearing from me.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No, it’s a caution” she answered menacingly.

“How did we end up in this mess….” he wondered.

19 January, 2006. 2:00 a.m.

The occupant of the sedan was as nondescript as his ride. Having seen a multitude of movies where chauffeurs turned against their employees, he preferred to drive himself. The woman whose services he wished to engage came highly recommended in matters of such urgency.

A lesser man might have been intimidated by her mansion, but he was unimpressed. Such garish display of wealth was for the benefit of corporate big shots. Politics, he liked to believe, was a subtler process where patience held as much water as acumen.

An elderly butler showed him to the office, where seated behind a grand mahogany desk, was the woman who would determine the future of the nation. Though not beautiful, she had a magnetic personality that could have persuaded Bhishma to break his vow. From her expression, it seemed his visit was expected.

“Who?”

The abruptness of the enquiry took him aback.

After recollecting his thoughts, he replied “The son.”

“No” she snapped irreverently.

“He has the sympathy of the electorate.”

“He reads Nietzsche and quotes Beckett.”

“So?”

“He’s a philosopher, not a politician. Do you really want a leader who believes God is dead and thinks there is nothing to do but wait for the end?”

“Who then?”

“The Foreign Minister”

“He’s hardly been in the country since taking oath. I don’t trust him.”

“He’ll do our bidding. That’s all you care for.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“It’s my job.”

“What about the step-daughter?”

“She’s an imbecile sycophant. Besides I have other plans for her.”

“What?”

“We pitch her against the minister. Dynastic politics are passé. The family is divided over her. The people would think of her as a sympathy piranha. She will lose and our guy will be in office, empowered with the trust of the voters.”

“Who’d convince her to run?”

She flashed him knowing smile and he immediately regretted asking.

7 July, 2009. 4:00 p.m.

“He’s gone rogue. Abusing the power of his office! I’ll not have it.”

“Don’t worry. He’ll not step outside the law. I have him under control.”

“The funds belong to the country, not you or him. Stop him while you can.”

“You are as much a part of this as I!”

“And not a day goes by that I regret it.”

4 May, 2011. 10:00 a.m.

“It’s over. He’s been impeached. I’m putting her in office.”

“The people would never support your dynastic….” she started coldly.

“This has nothing to do with dynasties or my methods. She’s perfect. You’ve always known that. She won’t bend to anyone’s will and govern with an iron-fist.” he said, cutting her off.

“She’ll be hearing about our deal.”

“She already knows. I have her forgiveness. You should pray for it.”

“You double-crossing old fool. How dare you?!!!”

“Don’t be melodramatic. This is MY job.”

The Sky Blue Half-Sweater

Apologies for the hiatus. I couldn’t get down to writing for the blog due to the visit of some pretty important people and another writing assignment (which would be published here if not appreciated elsewhere). But the twenty-tenner deserved a last post – so here goes nothing.
The period leading up to the New Year (I have no idea why it’s always CAPITALISED) is supposed to be a time of finding new resolutions to break, but it is also a time to reflect on the year that was. This was a year with a lot of firsts – first degree, first job, first blog, first flat and first time I consciously made efforts to keep in contacts with my friends.
While doing the new, I realised that when one is in an environment for a considerable amount of time and then does something for the first time – the responses from friends, colleagues and acquaintances are as varied and off the mark as could be. So, the first time I wore a sky blue half sweater to work I drew the following responses:
EJ : You look warmer (read hotter! :P)
Colleague1 : I was also thinking of bringing the woollens out.
Colleague2 : Is it really that cold?
Pseudo Boss (also wearing a half sweater) : What’s your excuse?
Boss :  Are you feeling alright?
Me : I hope this sweater hides my newly engorged belly.
Note: The section below is fathomable to only those with whom I have spent the better part of the last four years.
Other possible responses had they been present –
Bhuvi : What is that thing you’re wearing called?
TVS : Batman doesn’t wear sweaters. He has a cape!!
B****** : Fat B**** you look fatter!
Vodka : This sweater is half-stitched.
Harry : Was I in Bharti when these imaginary comments were made?
Zizou : The sweater is wearing me to ward off the cold!!!!!!!!!
Housie : I also want one! Wait, no I don’t. Well maybe I do. Then again I really don’t need it.
Bhasin : Statistically speaking, an Orange color would have generated more hits (votes).. but don't worry I can swing it for you :D
Prakii : Why am I the last one in this hypothetical list?? @#$@#%!!!

We need those Scams!

If you pick up any newspaper or tune into any decent news channel (the seemingly indecent ones for that matter also present scandals of a different nature), you would be barraged with news about scams. The amount of deceit and fraud that we are capable of is not astounding. There are instances in our religious and mythological texts which portray heroes engaging in trickery and deception for the triumph of good over evil. And I’m talking not only of the picaresque works. Although nowadays the ultimate goal of such deeds has changed, the guile with which they are accomplished remains the same. Whether it is the CWG fiasco, Chief Ministers playing God in their states or central ministers buffing up their wallets, the astuteness displayed by them is just short of exemplary. “Just short” because they got caught! But that means naught in India – chances are slim that they would be punished severely and even if they are, it will only add to their political credentials.

Now, we may raise a lot of brouhaha over them, call for justice to be done or shout our larynxes out to anyone who’s unkind enough not to lend an ear; the fact remains that we need these scams.

Here’s why.

Firstly, because they are great motivating agents. Why else will a poor officer, sitting in a tin-shack under the scorching sun with no air-conditioning work, on the road project he is to complete? Why would a lowly peon take your papers to the concerned babu? Who would build large stadiums and housing complexes within time at rock-bottom prices? We all need that modicum of incentive to do our jobs! So why shouldn’t a minister or bureaucrat expect the same. After all, they do offer premium services.

Secondly, because the media covets them. I mean it’s not every day that a popular head of state visits or our sportspersons win a host of medals or two enthralling dance numbers engage the nation in a popularity contest! So what do those news-starved media persons do when their superiors breathe down their necks? They rely on the old-faithful - scams. It’s either that or they manufacture news-worthy stories which, I don’t think anybody wants. What began as reporting atrocities of the erstwhile British Raj, has metamorphosed into scandalous revelations about modern day Rajas (no pun intended). The industry employs nearly (number of people) – where would all these folks go if we stop having scams. The netas know this when they say they will generate employment opportunities.

Thirdly, because watchdog agencies thrive upon them. The scams justify their institution ­­and validate their existence, wherein lies the paradox: if there are no scams, what will these agencies whose ultimate aim is to cleanse the system do? The C.A.G would then stand for Corpulent Ass-Grabbers, the CVC for Committee of Vigilante Corruption and ED for Executive Dick.

Fourthly, because they’re a matter of national pride. According to the Bribe Payer’s Index (yes, such a listing does exist!), Indians are most likely to give a bribe to comply with demands of corrupt business practises. We have got to compete with the likes of Morocco, Albania and Lesotho in terms of who has the most amount of public money diverted to private funds. We just have to live up to our rich corrupt heritage and continue the legacy. Those nansy-pansy small time crooks can’t beat us at our own game!

Lastly, because the scams need us too! There is so much money flowing around in the markets (white, black and grey) that someone is needed to look after it. The United States of America being a capitalist state has left it to the Madoffs and Frankels. India being a mixed economy allows for a Public-Private Partnership; where, as with most enterprises, the Government has the lion’s share. Money is taken from the common man, who obviously is left with too much after paying taxes and repaying loans, invested in companies and funds which provide employment to masses enabling them to earn more money and thus ask for more loans.

It’s win-win-win situation. The government is happy with all the development, the graciously corrupt officials are happy as they are providing a service to the society while getting rich and the common man is happy because of the seemingly increased spending power. Only a fool would not want a scam in these circumstances!

To sign-off, be corrupt and let others be corrupt. Make yourself worthy of your country!

Note: Abbreviations courtesy S.V.

Disclaimer: Any views expressed in this post are those of the individual author and no binding nature of the posts shall be implied or assumed unless the author does so expressly with due authority of the firm He/She works for.

Disclaimer to the above “Disclaimer”: The above disclaimer has been put up by my own free will and no individual or individuals there-of have coerced me into doing so.

POST Zero

To all those wondering why "0"                                             ‎

a.      I can delete this post if it sucks.

b.      It seeks attention.

c.      It's befitting since India supposedly gave the world the concept.

 The first month of the first job. After having braved the horrendous Mumbai traffic for fifteen days, I was granted the comfort of the comparatively smoother one of New Delhi. There were six of us, sent to the Capital for "on the field" induction into the company's culture and inducted we were! Courtesy Mr. D­-, who bears a striking resemblance to the laughing Buddha: a glabrous dome, generous paunch and a look of immense satisfaction on his visage. Being the safety officer, he sends us to inspect the facility for fire protection devices along with one of his lackeys. When we return after spending 2 hours doing so in the sweltering Delhi heat, Mr D- says, between mouthfuls of pakodas and sips of his chai*, "Arre! Itni jaldi kaise aa gaye?" One of my colleagues bravely ventures a reply: "We have seen all the measures thoroughly." This seems to intrigue Mr D-, as he wipes his hand on a paper napkin and with a wry smile asks some extraordinarily weird but apparently relevant question which I still don’t know the answer to. Nervous and clueless as to what our next step should be, we remain silent as misfortune struck. Not on us though, but the “lackey” who was supposed to show us around. We hastily escape his office to the safety of the canteen which was to be one of our safe-houses for the remainder of the tour, the other being the conference room*.

A few days later, while we’re reporting to our in-charge, Mr D- comes around and starts illustrating about a certain protection device introduced during the FIFA World Cup in South Africa that supposedly clutches the causative instrument and renders it “inadequate”. We are in a fix: whether to laugh and be labelled as lewd youngsters or keep straight faces and make Mr D- think he’s not funny. At that moment we learn one of the most important rules* for surviving in such a firm: The boss is always right. So we duplicate the expression of our in-charge and make a mental note to always abide by that rule.

P.S.:

1.      It is always “chai”, not the British rip-off “tea” which according to Merriam-Webster is also slang for marijuana these days.

2.      The conference room hosted some of the best pen-fight matches the world has never seen, although I’m told a video has found its way on to Facebook.

3.      There’s also a second rule which states: When in doubt, refer the first rule.