Jungle Too

Sometimes I feel I am more of an egotist. So apart from discussing about I, me, myself and the proverbial Irene let me speak about each of the inmates or animates (take your pick), in detail. This is at least the only place I would give some regard to position/desig. usw. i.e. we will start with a "Top-Down" approach. I know you think me to be anti-establishment but believe-you-me most of these so called establishments don't deserve being called so let alone the donkeys who haunt them for years (Is that why they say: donkey's years?).


The Hyena: The Manager

One look and you would agree. The aquiline nose and the buck teeth that try to dissipate their energies in all possible directions and intentions make him the prototype of the scavenger. My father's theory of relating to the characteristics of people by the animal they resemble (Mukh-akriti Vigyan) is proven right here. So far so good.



The reason for his success: For one thing, he has the glory of the gab and for the other he is a sucker for sweet talk: He will start with Insurance gibberish hop over to Politics, slide to Philosophy and then miraculously emerge from Insurance to pick up the topic again. Sharp he is, especially for his 67 odd years.

The primary fear of the Hyena is losing his chair(read position) to the Cow: The Manager Nouveau. Now, Even though he knows that his days on the throne are few and far between, he is unable to come to terms with it. The reaction is him glaring his teeth all out and putting the Cow in a little less than a compromising position. Yeah Right, some consolation!

The Cow:

Now why I call him so? Its because he seems to completely emulate the image of the animal we generally see on Indian roads: You first sight the tail, trying its best to wade away the flies around its generous behind. The only other moving part is the jaw, chewing cud. The rest of the body has lost all shape and is trying its best to submerge with the road. Sitting comfortably in the middle of an imaginary island, which would have formed oblivious of the traffic swishing past. It seems as if a small roundabout has taken form in the middle of the busy street. No one has the guts to break this domain, due to the sacred status of the cow in India (Holy Cow!).

Our Cow, the one in question has similar attributes. The complete economy is in a state of flux- a lot of changes in the already vibrant market. And what does he do: Chew cud. I regert that I am not in a position to comment on the behind for the sake of basic decency.

So eventually our division is in the hands of the old Hyena who does not like to yield and is going into the hands of the Cow who cannot. The plight is taken in with utmost complacence by all and sundry, until of course their monetary gains and other paraphernalia are static.

The Jungle

It’s amazing to see The Dilbert Principle open up in front of your eyes everyday: The useless are systematically promoted to a place where they can do least (damage): Management.
I did not know that I would travel 2181 kms to enter yet another Jungle form the previous Zoo I ran away from: Ahem, the place that gives me my daily Kubus (Arabic Bread). Butter is on the way. My office has a few pet animals and other creatures from the wild.
My office for one has the following animals:
The Hyena
The Cow
The Hippo
The Caterpillar
The Goat
The Monkey
The Ox
The Horse
The Snake
The Jackal
The Owl
The Ant
The Rat
and ME!
I prefer to think myself human, obviously, but its up to the reader to decide… Just don’t ask my best half (I call her best coz, with my mug, I couldn’t have done better-Yes, my sympathy is always there for her though.)
I don’t hide the names for fear any of them reading my blog. For one, they are so prehistoric that it has to be told to them “Sir, I mailed you. Please check your mail.” And they would load the mail, open the inbox and take a print. That’s when it is communicated. And for the other, I don’t give a damn.
I name them so, out of some morbid curiosity of finding out the truth in a so called science my father propagated called ”Mukh-akriti Vigyan” where each face could be analysed as to its construction and resemblance to an animal. Yes, you guessed it right- the characteristics of the resembling animal could be found in the personality. Whatever!
As to why they have been named so will be evident over the anecdotes that will take their place in the blog over time. But before that, in this post, let me just fix the Status Quo and how I ended up here:
The Hyena, The Manager who had been the main figure in our division for the last 28(Eekss!!!!) years is power hungry. He wants nobody but him. Even at the mandatory retirement age of 60, he doesn’t stop. When asked to name a successor, he just dilly-dallies. The mother company sends him a lot of candidates to fill the position but he does not buy them.
They take out an Ad in the papers for his position twice but are unable to recruit. Another animal (not in the above group) is sent to India to recruit someone with the help of an India-based insurance expert.
Cut 2: I get a call for an interview, fly to Cal and come out with flying colours. I am called to Sharjah where the Hyena has nothing much to talk about. His sly remarks make me wonder the purpose of my visit.
When I get the call, it is a mixture of surprise, relief and tension of relocating. The timing couldn’t have been better. My in-laws are in Dubai, the industry and especially my company and is in doldrums and we are pregnant: I have always maintained that I have been with ideas but this time there is actually a little of my half propagating in my better.
So I, along with the Cow, Manager Replacement (as I would come to know later) am the unwanted pregnancy of the division. As any bastard would be sad to tell you- I did not know it and definitely it is not my mistake.

Papaji: The Grand Old Man

Papaji had been unwell for a month or more and was bedridden. If it is of some consolation, he received "Mukti" from this worldly hell of diapers and support. Also, Dad would now have more peace... Even after his emergency eye operation, he was unable to rest as prescribed by the Doc. He had to get up at night and look after the two of them.

I was going to Delhi to meet Papaji primarily, but it was Bhabhoji who embraced Death before him: I remember him saying to her at Lodhi in colloquial- "Tu pehle chal. Hum sab tere peechey hain!" and so it happened. It happens generally that when a couple have lived their life together from a very small age till maturity, even death is not spaced very far. Even though they were cribbing all the way, they were resolved to live together and die the same way.

Papaji had bouts of consciousness and then delirium. Something that Dad says he was trying to maintain through homoeopathy - Fart! I would rather trust allopathy in this regard. Also, his manner of defending Homeo treatment was stronger than the improvement in the condition of the patient. He was in some way asking for their death just as he saw it coming. Death is not fastidious and it came as it had to. In my opinion it only became more ardous. It would have been graceful to accept nature rather than try to contort it.

Well as of now Dad is alone... all alone. New avenues have to open and he has to look freshly at life- for his life is still there despite of the deaths.

Bhabhoji : My Grandmother, My Mother

Well, it happened then. It had to, one day but I guess we were waiting for it. And 84 is quite an age as it is: Especially after a complete life... Great Grand Children and all. She was just over and out I guess. Been there Done it All!
Its odd to look from a very rational point of view for many reasons: Firstly I was her grandson-even though when I would put head before the heart I would be called heartless. Secondly, there would be some natural bias in me which I don't recognise. Thirdly its a matter of death and you have to be careful. Anyway, this is what happened: I only came to know after she was gone-even though we had rescheduled our tickets we only came after two days. Only regret was that Dittu was not witnessed in person.
I was unaware due to two reasons... both generated by Dad. One he never told me that they were unwell(reasons unknown he would give conflicting news to keep me confused). Secondly, if you cry wolf for years... it really does not matter when the wolf arrives, and thats exactly what happened.
Now, she was someone who had kept the clan assimilated for decades- each suggestion,decision and activity was routed through her. Even though she was uneducated her mind was open and she possessed something what I would call a heart of Gold. And now when all is over a void seems to have taken place. Never have I seen her in a position of pompousness and self righteousness. God Bless Her Soul.
Pious she was. Atma Ram is the part of the sternum bone which is said to surface only in certain individuals' pyre. It speaks volumes of their virtues.For her it was completely formed and set apart from the rest of the ashes. She made her her mark even afetr death.
Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori: If one lives well what matter how one dies.

You didn't make my trip!

They took the money and the ticket is not confirmed!

The original reservation is cancelled and someome from Air India in Sharjah is telling me that another waiting list booking is there.

Make my trip is only sending me automated messages

The check trip website that is given at the end of the page throws up an exception at the reservation

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Oye Lucky Lucky Oye! What a Song

The beat starts with the familiar sense and it seems as another a run off the mill punju pop item: Nothing really to write home about. But wait till it twists your eardrums and senses tighter than turban once its sets the pace: almost as we speak. I plan to see the movie just for this song... Even the promo is breathtaking- I still remember the days when promos were paper poster stuck awkwardly on kiosks for us to see when peeping our heads out of the school bus: The good ol' 80s. As for now all the best to my new obsession throbbing at the back of my head. This can be viewed on youtube on: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LuhLadjQnHU

VIP The bag that Blew Past.

The bag did not even survive its maiden journey: Very neat & light but did not reach the flight!

Least it could have done was to pass the security check...Dubai was still way to go! It broke down at Indira Gandhi International Airport.

In a stroller the champion of the cause is the the moving contraption. The rest of the parafernalia renders the stroller as useful (or useless) as another suitcase. Consider poor me carring a stroller all througout.

V.V. & Sons Dubai: It boasts of bags and is the sole contact point for guarantee for VIP in Dubai.

Yeah, you got it right. They don't repair them-they dont have the parts: and will not replace-They don't have the moolah.

Eventually the electronic medium:Bingo Again! The website of the company doesnot open... Guys, Isn't this the 21st century. Huh

I wrote an email to one of the IDs got a couple of responses: Sindhi/Gujju guy : and the bugger mailed from some hotmail.com of sorts: but again a Lull. I am still waiting for the storm.