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 III

I’ve been with him ever since the catastrophe. People say he’s just a pale shadow of his former self now. I see images of his glorious past adorning the walls of the enclosure I have built for him.

The doctors say he’s losing his mind. Nonsense! They’re all hack-jobs not worth even half their fees. Insane or not, he doesn’t even need to ask me for help – I sense him feeling vulnerable and immediately step-in to protect him. Although he doesn’t say as much in words, I know he’s secretly thanking me.

His fiancé visits him dutifully every day. Though I haven’t formally met her yet, I don’t like her much and have reason to believe that the feeling is mutual. The other day she came around just as I was about to leave. I was inclined to stay, but he told me to give him some privacy. I heard her expressing disapproval of me on the way out though. She says I’m stealing him from her and morphing him into an alien. But I’m just trying to help. I don’t want to see him hurt when she deserts him.

We’re closer than brothers now… almost as if two minds in one body…Shh! He’s coming. I have to go now….

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How did I get here? I must’ve been playing FIFA on the XBOX in my sleep again. I do that a lot now, having lost the ability to do the real thing. My fiancé says it’s not healthy – spending as much time as I do, immured within the safety of my house. But my friend says I’m too frail to venture out.

He’s been a great help the past few months. I’ve grown quite close to him. I don’t know why she hates him so much. Jealousy sounds a bit far-fetched, but stranger things have happened where women are concerned.

Yesterday she was telling me she doesn’t know me anymore. I think she is drifting away from me, now that the glamour and excitement has evaporated. A woman like her can’t keep living like a nurse. She deserves better I guess.

Besides, I have my good friend to take care of me. I don’t know what I’d do without him. He’s so confident and assured of himself. I wish I was more like him. I wonder why he sticks with me though. Maybe he needs me as much as I him. I suppose I give him a means to satisfy his magnanimous ego. It’s time to meet him….

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It’s been 5 years since we came to this “institution” for rehabilitation. We don’t talk as often as we used to. He thinks I’m the reason we’re here. As if his life would have been any better without me. I gave him a purpose, a belief that he could survive without needing anyone else. I was there for him when the world was falling apart around him….. When his fiancé left; and this is how he repays me - pushing me out of his life, like one would weed out old clothes.

But I will not go so easily, having invested so much of my life….

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I feel he’s controlling my actions… I wake up in the corridor sometimes and don’t remember getting there. The horror of things he’s made me do sends shivers down my spine. I’m a danger to those around me. I’ve got to end this… the only way of getting rid of him forever… and I think I know how.

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The two men in the picture are two facets of a single person (one which makes him feel small & vulnerable and the other which makes him feel big and arrogant). There should be a harmony between the two in order to achieve goals of one's life.

I have tried to justify this theme through the story of a person suffering from dissociative identity disorder – split personality, due to an accident which caused him to lose his ability to walk and confined him to the seclusion of his house. Both his selves want to claim his body and this disharmony has resulted in him losing his identity, fiancé and freedom.

Short Story II

First things first – lots of readers complained that the previous story was absolutely incomprehensible. So here’s what I had imagined while conceiving it:

The old man is a stalwart of the ruling political party whose leader has just passed away. He wishes the son of the erstwhile supremo to take over the reins of the party and for this wishes to engage the services of the woman who is a kingmaker and has considerable influence over the election machinery. The woman has other plans as she wanted her own pawn to be the next leader and thus coaxes the old man to change her mind. They both glance over the step-daughter, considering her nothing but a nincompoop and in capable for the job as they are not that intimate with her. In the years that pass, the current leader of the nation turns out to be corrupt and is in cohorts with the woman and her allies. They misuse public funds for their own good and this doesn’t go down well with the old man who is a staunch Gandhian. Thus when the minister is impeached, he realises that the step-daughter was in fact prefect for to lead the nation and finally supports her in her campaign.

Now coming to the subject at hand, this is the second story which I submitted and also narrated. Surprisingly, it got selected and now I’m working on the third and final instalment of this series of unrelated stories.

The story is untitled. Apologies to all professionals mentioned in the story and Chartered Accountants for annihilating their job. There are no discernible influences from my personal life.

 

Interpretation of the Picture: Money is only valuable till we agree upon its worth. Barring this trust, it’s just an ornamental alloy or ink on paper. At the height of hyperinflation, Zimbabwe printed a 100 trillion dollar currency note that is now being sold for $5. In this story, I have tried to envision a post-apocalyptic utopia where there is only industry and no finance.

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The year is 2100. It has been 50 years since the Great War that changed everything. People have adopted a much simpler way of living now.

The man was ‘old’ when he was half his present age. Now, he’s just stoking the dying embers of the fire of his life. Having outlived his wife and sons all he now has to offer is the wisdom of his experience. His grandson is coming of age today – the age he starts his vocation. He’s a good kid, a bit impudent though.

What do you want to do now that you have completed your education the Old Man asks him?

Why do I have to do anything, he says. ‘The baker gives us the bread; the builder makes our houses and the tailor stitches our clothes.’

They do those things because they enjoy doing so. Rest is good, but boredom is its brother, the Old Man replies wisely.

But wouldn’t it be better if there were some added incentive to labour, the grandson enquires excitingly.

Knowing that his grandson was not one to be convinced easily, the Old Man decides to tell him the stories of four people he once knew –

In the city of Mumbai lived a woman who worked for a bank. Now banks were institutions which kept something called ‘money’ safe and made it grow. Everyone toiled in pursuit of this money. The more we had, the more we wanted. She wanted to be a scientist – to find out the mysteries of the origins of life. Instead, she was lured by the shimmer of the money. She made lots of it for the bank and more than enough for herself; but was never content. Her fixation with earning more made her lose her family, her friends and finally her sanity.

In the city of NOIDA lived a man who was a consultant. He advised people on how to do their jobs, even though he hadn’t done any of them. By using his intelligence to counsel people on ways to earn more money, he came by considerable amounts of money. Sadly, he could not keep any of his clients satisfied, as they kept coming back to him for more. The stress of his job took its toll upon his health and he was forced into a life of seclusion.

In Hyderabad there lived a woman who made modules that predicted ways to augment the amount of money one had. These modules made many people rich, but she herself was not allowed their use. This frustrated her time and again and finally she decided to purloin from those who used her brilliance for their own profit. Eventually she was found guilty and imprisoned.

In the city of Kolkata lived an engineer who worked unselfishly his entire life so that he could give a comfortable life to his family. He was not exceptional or too intelligent, but he was a very hard and sincere worker. He lived a long, satisfying life and never yearned for more than he needed.

Thus concluding, he asks his grandson whose life he would like to emulate.

“The last man’s” the grandson replies. “But what happened to the concept of money?” he adds as an afterthought.

“It was abolished after the Great War… when our leaders decided that money was the cause of conflict between humans. In the end, what we want is happiness and satisfaction. It was realized that these can be achieved without something as factitious and hollow as money” the Old Man replies.

The grandson acknowledges this with a nod and after a lot of pondering asks his grandfather why he chose those four cities.

The Old Man chuckles and replies “Now that is a story for another time. The next lesson you need to learn is that of patience.”

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P.S.: Any guesses as to why those four cities were chosen???

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?? @#$@#%!!!

Unanimity in Polity

 This was supposed to be about a certain journalistic breakthrough but ended up being yet another boring and dreary piece about the dismal state of politics. While going through the copious references to the leaks by various agencies, one common factor dawned upon me – not a single head of state had unequivocally shown his/her support for the embattled founder and his creation. Julian Assange, whom many have rechristened as the “Cyber Osama”, through the WikiLeaks has in fact done something even OBL could not – he has divided the populus and united the polity. The September 11 attacks, by shaking the bedrock of American arrogance, instilled a sense of fear which brought them on the same pitch as the government in its War against Terror. It took them 8 years to come out of that shell and throw out the Bush administration. The Cablegate incident on the other hand has divided American public into those who condemn callous treatment of confidential transcripts and those who champion free speech. Since the leaked cables date back to ‘66 and span across multiple presidencies, both the Democrats and the Republicans are unanimous on their stand of plugging the leaks.

Closer home, Ratan Tata attempts to invoke the same unanimity by petitioning to increase the scope of the 2G scam probe to the time when the BJP-led NDA was in majority. If he succeeds, he would at least save the nation a part of the bounty that Raja has allegedly stolen from her. The recent logjam over the relevance of a Joint Parliamentary Committee (JPC) in the winter session of the Parliament has caused a loss of  ` 171 crores to the nation. With the UPA and opposition parties playing the blame game, this session has turned out to be one of the most un-productive ones in the history of the Indian Parliament. A senior Congress spokesperson, with all the arrogance of the world, has said that since his party is in power what ever it decides has to be followed. The Opposition is unyielding to the extent of blackmailing the government by stalling parliamentary procedure for no less than 23 days. Interestingly, the only thing that was agreed upon was a minute of silence in remembrance of the 2001 attacks – not on the WTC or Pentagon but the Parliament House itself.

The present telecom minister, while debating the merits of a JPC, claimed that it has none since there already are seven different agencies investigating the same and that a JPC is nothing but a vehicle for political propaganda. What is interesting is that it was the UPA while in the opposition that held the then government to ransom when the Tehelka expose was a burning issue. The NDA in response has decided to hold apolitical rallies in seven Indian states campaigning against the rampant corruption of the central administration. Not surprisingly Karnataka, where NDA itself is under criticism, is not one of them. Such blatant disregard for democratic principles is not only impeding positive growth but is also creating an atmosphere where the electorate is left befuddled and distraught. If members of the Indian polity cannot be unanimous in their opinion, they can at least agree to disagree and leave the public to decide for itself who the culprits really are instead of throwing flower pots in the assembly or holding dharnas on the speaker’s table.

Having talked of the U.S.A and India, it becomes imperative to mention the supreme example of political unanimity – The People’s Republic of China. It may seem redundant and frivolous to talk about unanimity in a single-party system, but remember that the founders of the Muslim League and Janata Party were also once members of what has now evolved into the Congress (I). China through its enforced unilateralism has emerged as the leader in terms of production and export of agricultural and industrial goods. Now before you play the “violation of human rights” card, it would be wise to note that China ranks above India in the Human Development Index. And the figures that contribute to such indices are distorted in both nations.

As Charles Dickens famously wrote, and we will keep on quoting him (as nothing better has since been said or written), “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…”. Our economy has been growing leaps and bounds and in contrast the politicians have managed to submerge to greater depths than previously imaginable. It is now upto us to make the best or worst out of it.

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.