Bosses or asses?

(With anger, malice, sarcasm and grudge against all bosses.)

Ok. Post this post, I will not be surprised if I suddenly find myself in the “Physically able but unemployed youth” segment of the society. But at this point in time, I am really not bothered. In a way, I am past these worldly concerns. Let me then begin to rant about the species called “BOSSES” with a joke on the entire clan. Read the story…

Once, the various parts of the body were arguing about who should be the boss. The brain spoke up first, “I do all the thinking. I am the hub of all intellect. Hence I lay my claim to be the boss.”

Next, it was the heart, “I pump all the bloody blood! Without me, everything will perish. I should be the boss.”

While a verbal battle ensued between the different parts, the arse hole spoke up. “I should be the boss. The absolute authority”, it said. There was stunned silence for a second that the arse hole could even think of something so bizarre! When realization sank in, every part of the body was in splits. The arse hole gave everyone a very dirty look and shut itself for 3 days. Needless to say, the entire system went for a toss. Under immense pressure, the body gave in and the arse was made the boss.

Now, what’s the moral of the story? You don’t need brains to be a boss. Any arse hole will do. And I was so bugged in life that I actually went to my boss and told him this story. I still grin to myself when I reminisce the look on his face.

This clan follows no biases of any kind. Men, women, non men, non women, anyone in these shoes behaves in the same manner. A nice boss is probably as much of a figment of imagination as the existence of Atlantis. Everyone has heard fables of “good bosses” but few have probably experienced it first hand. And in this case seeing, indeed, is believing. Though I don’t know what genetic mutation people undergo by the time they become bosses but I pray I can avoid such a catastrophe in my life. I meant the mutation part. Let me now, for your benefit, classify the kinds of sub species that exist in this category.

Absolutely autocratic: It is the kind that believes that since they have spent reasonable time in the industry they’re in, they know EVERYTHING about it and hence their opinion is unchallengeable. They conveniently forget that due to the process of evolution, every successive generation is a tad faster and more capable. Let alone accepting it, they ignore even the possibility of such a thing!

Mistaken democrats: These are people who believe they’re extremely democratic whereas their democratic nature is as real as a mirage in a desert. They have an illusion that they give people a chance to express their opinion and work in their own way. It’s more like allowing one to stand in a one square foot area and say that there is enough space to play hopscotch! That, my friend, is the true face of these mistaken democrats.

Selective hearing: They are like a radio. One can hear them but never speak to them because for some godforsaken reason, sound just doesn’t seem to travel to their ears. Well, it maybe the vaccum in their heads that prevents the sounds from reaching the brain. They say what they have to, listen to nothing and then when things go wrong, they even forget that they said what they said!!

Excuse me: This kind has an excuse up their sleeve at any given point of time. Be it to avoid work or to make sure that they make life miserable for people working with them. These people fish for the first reason they can find to get out of office. It can range from “the neighbour’s dog being sick” to “no water from the municipal authorities”. I have seen a lot of this kind.

This is the brief segregation I could come up with. And more or less, most bosses can be put into any of these though there may be finer differences prevalent across the world. If you find any other points, feel free to add to this piece. And before my bosses find this document open on my computer, I shall scoot.

Adios.

Being corny…

(This is only for people above 18 years of age. Though you shouldn’t be reading this otherwise but it’s up to you to take the final call.)

Rub it…rub it.

Pull it and straighten it out.

Yeah…that’s the way. Now come on, shove it in! Slowly. Don’t rush.

THIS is how one makes a wire pass through a circular disc to make a spinning wheel. What were you thinking?

Is it a flaw with the listener’s twisted mind or is it the fault of the speaker that what’s said and what’s interpreted are poles apart? Sometimes, it is a genuine lack of realization that gives rise to such situations. Like: “all of us crash at his place nowadays because things get easier when we’re sleeping with each other regularly.”

In this case, the context was that five people of a workgroup stayed over at the guy’s place whose house was the closest to office so that it was easier to come in on time everyday. But to someone who isn’t aware of what the reference is, such a statement can sound rather suggestive. I have found myself in such situations countless times. This is what someone I knew had to say about how to clean the grime that accumulates between the batteries and the steel plate, in a torch, resulting in an incomplete circuit: “pull it out. Blow it. Shake it a little and stick it back in.”

Sounds strange. I know.

Being a writer makes it worse. One is supposed to have more than one interpretation to every line written. Over a period of time, it just happens that dual meanings begin to appear from every side…in every statement. And to make matters absolutely terrible, this tendency to be corny is contagious. So one not only ends up being infected…but passing it on as well! Though, sometimes, being a little corny adds to the charm of what’s written and interpreted. I remember having read this print as by Neil French, a copywriter par excellence. It was for a cigar brand called Cigarillos. It read “Gentlemen like their companions brown, long, slim and ideally horizontal.”

I agree that is very open ended but that’s where the charm of the line was!

My boss was heard telling a trainee recently that it was important for him to perform every single time otherwise people would find someone else. I agree. As Little T often tells me, “you have a twisted mind!” I agree. But then, it isn’t exactly my fault, is it? I mean, seriously, I would love to think straight. I mean, get the right interpretation.

Though there is no judgement that I am passing about being corny, it is sad when a very well interpreted statement is wasted on someone who’s a little dim in the head…or maybe isn’t as “corrupted”. Those winks, the sly grins and all that laughter with lips pursed is something that results in a little relaxation when the atmosphere is a little tense.

Even brands are not spared. One day, recently, when I had gone to meet my lifeline...Little T, we went shopping. I saw this amazing pair of shades for her. But then, she wanted to look around a little more so while trying on the different pairs, she noticed that one particular brand was called "Push and Shove"! Ok then. I wonder what to push and shove. Nevertheless, sounded strange. And after all this time, I guess I have brushed off on my little angel cause it was she who noticed the brand. A general request to all budding entrepreneurs...please don't have such weird names to your brands!! Sheesh!

All said and done, written and read, being corny or not is a matter of individual choice but if you want to think corny, go right ahead. There is nothing wrong about it.

Adios.

The art of SARCASM

It is an art that’s as old as time itself. Probably. Say something with a totally straight face and imply something completely different. That’s the art of sarcasm.

I was out to watch a movie with friends and met an acquaintance at the multiplex. “So…how have you been? Here for a movie?” was the question put forth by Mr. Acquaintance. My absolutely poker faced answer was “No..no…I am here for the Liverpool versus Manchester United soccer match. Wonder why it hasn’t started yet.”

Well, it’s a different issue that my sarcasm was wasted on him cause he gave me a strange look and a stupid smile. I mean seriously, why do people ask questions like these?! Is it just a desperate attempt to begin and continue a conversation or is it that the person is genuinely dwarfed in the head? Sounds like an unsolved mystery to me.

While some people are born with this ancient art running in every vein, some others cultivate it over the years. To me, it comes naturally and absolutely effortlessly. Even my little princess…Little T excels at the art. Sadly, sometimes I have come across people on whom sarcasm has no effect cause they just don’t see the point! In fact, I remember this one incident very clearly. A guy I knew in college was one day seen wearing a parrot green full sleeve shirt with brown corduroy trousers. The day was scorching hot. While sitting together and killing time, someone commented that the temperatures had become intolerable due to the lack of trees in the vicinity. I being me, turned around, looked at the guy who had commented, pointed to the guy in the parrot green shirt and brown corduroy trousers and said “don’t worry, Abu’s around. Just stick a few twigs in to his hair and you will have all the soothing shade that you’re looking for!”

Sadly, everybody understood except the person who it was intended for. Damn!]

Then again, there is sarcasm and counter sarcasm. Now, that’s fun cause it’s like a battle of wits. This is generally what happens when Little T and I have a conversation at our sarcastic best! Such conversations are long and memorable. But if you’re expecting e narrate one here, sorry, that isn’t happening. There are a little too precious to be shared.

Well, the fact that the profession I am in demands me to be sarcastic at most times is just incidental. Then again, there are people who just can’t stand this brilliant art! Well, I am not really surprised cause not everybody can appreciate an art form! In fact, I guess just like we have institutions that specialize in teaching certain forms of art, there should be schools that train people in sarcasm as well. It will not only propagate the art but also equip people better to handle unforeseen situations. What say?

Adios.

Walking with a zombie

(Dedicated to my perennial inspiration)

As I have mentioned earlier, I work at a place where chaos is ubiquitous. Spending nights at office in an attempt to come up with ideas and finish work on tight deadlines has now become a part of life. This happened on just one such night.

Six of us were stuck in office, working. Suddenly, hunger struck us as the clock struck two in the morning. For normal human beings, it is a time to sleep so most hotels are shut. But near our office, there is a hotel that’s open till 6 in the morning. I guess they are just trying to cash in on our erratic timings. I being the hungriest of all, considering my insatiable appetite, volunteered to get the food packed. So I made a list of all that the people wanted to eat and set off.

Between the restaurant and my office, there is a narrow lane with a lone street lamp. As expected, most part of the broken street is deserted. As I was half way through, I heard somebody shout over my shoulder “boo”! Startled for a second, I turned around to see if it was a colleague of mine or a friend who just wanted to derive some joy out of scaring me. It turned out to be neither. Instead, it was a lanky, short chap who looked at me with a disappointed gaze. He was pale white with disheveled hair. “Damn! You were supposed to be scared dude! Now how will I go back and face my father and my fiancé?”

I must admit that I found it funny that a guy half my size in both length and width, dressed in a yellow shirt and baby pink cargoes thought that he could scare me. “who are you and what on earth made you think that you could scare me, wearing those strange clothes? I mean, come on buddy, look at your size at least!”, I said. To that, his reply was, “first of all, let me introduce myself. I am Zazu, the zombie. I have two elder brothers. Zozo and Zimzo, who will now laugh at me, thanks to you. Second, nobody, I repeat, nobody dares to call my clothes strange. They have been specially crafted by Zersache and Zorgio Zarmani. You know, I don’t wear anything that’s not designer. And the only two other designers I like are Zohit Zal and Z. Z. Zalaya. So you better not say anything against this attire of mine, you no-sense-of-fashion human.”

Now I was beginning to enjoy this. Not only did this crazy, puny guy have the guts to try and scare me, but he also thought he was a zombie! Whoa!

“So, you’re trying to tell me that you’re a zombie who’s out to scare people in the middle of the night, are you?”

“Absolutely!”

“Great. Prove to me that you’re what you claim to be”. This must be fun, I thought.

“I warn you, it will be very scary. VERY scary.”

“So that’s ok. That was your objective anyway, wasn’t it?”

“Ok. If you insist. Now, come on, here is my arm. Pull it.”

So I tugged at his arm and it actually came off! Pretty much like it does when you try to pull it off the plastic toys. Needless to say, that was pretty freaky. I was holding his arm in my hand while he stared at me, smiling. Must admit was a little scared but tried my best not to show it. “So, did I prove my point? Now, give that arm back to me so that I can put it back on.”

So I handed his arm back to him with absolute silence. He took it and screwed it back onto his shoulders like it had some grooves around it. He moved it to check the movement and once he was satisfied, he looked at me and smiled again. “What did you think? I am some random, crazy chap who painted his face white in the middle of the night?”

I was speechless. “So…where were you off to?”

“I was going to buy something to eat at this restaurant here.”

“Naah. Don’t. you get much better food a couple of kilometers up ahead.”

“How do you know so much about human food? You’re a freaking zombie!”

“I am indeed and I am glad I made you believe it but the truth is, that we zombies share a lot in common with you humans. Like the Zombieland anthem, for ages, has been this song by Cranberries called Zombie. Have you heard it?”

What was this thing? A zombie and that too, darfed? Of course I had heard the song! “Yes. I have heard that song many times”, I said. “Good song, isn’t it? Anyway now, if you want to get some real nice grub, I can give you a lift up to that other restaurant.”

No way! I wasn’t going to hitch a ride with a zombie! I know I am crazy but not completely over-the-top insane yet. I hadn’t realized that it had been quite a while since I met this Godforsaken creature, literally, and that’s when my art partner called. Heaving a sigh of relief, I picked up the phone though I didn’t really know what to say. I have a habit of pacing up and down while speaking on my mobile phone. So I walked away from him without realizing it and when I turned around, he was gone. A part of me was jumping out of my skin out of fear and the other part was happy that the thing was gone. I finished my conversation and hung up. Suddenly, Zaku sprang up from behind me again. Yikes!

“Here, these are the best dishes on the menu in the restaurant I mentioned. Since you were busy on the phone, I thought I would go and get some food. By the way, which service provider does your friend have?”

“He uses Airtel while I have Vodafone”, I said, staring at the food.

“Hmmm…Airtel…and Vodafone. Sound a lot like the services we have. Zairtel, Zodafone, Zidea and Zealiance!”

“Tell me something; all the names that you mentioned in all this while start with Z. What fetish to you zombies have with the letter Z?”

“Look, around 400 years ago, our council of elders, which is much like your Parliament, decreed that all names should start with Z and nothing else. We have followed the tradition all these years but now, we youngsters are trying to change the way zombies look at life.”

A zombie, talking about life? Paradoxical.

“Anyway, here is the food. Don’t worry, it’s on me. Just make sure that if you find my fiancé Zenne anywhere, tell her you were shit scared on seeing me. Can’t lose face in front of her, you know? She might just call the engagement off. I need to rush now. Have plenty of other humans to scare and make it home in the next couple of hours cause I have a date with Zenne at 7 in the morning. See you around”, and he disappeared.

I was sure I didn’t want to see him, his family or his fiancé…ever again. I stood there with the packet of food, wondering what to do. After pondering a little, I chucked the food into the trash can cause honestly, I didn’t have the courage to eat food sponsored by a zombie. I bought whatever I had to and walked back to the office. The journey back was thankfully eventless.

So, this was my little tête-à-tête with Zaku, the zombie. The thought still makes me wonder about all that happened.

Adios.

Grayscale's day out...

Two days after he turned a major, Grayscale, the crown prince of the chameleons decided go out into the world outside his royal abode and seek his destiny. Now, royal decisions can seldom be questioned. So against all his reservations, the minister of the chameleon kingdom, Dr. Spectrum, gave in. Princess Lizzy, Prince Grayscale’s beloved was worried and sad that in their already short lifespan, she would have to stay away from him for so long!

For Grayscale however, what was more important was that he came from one of the most reputed families of veiled chameleons and had to live up to his forefathers’ name. So the next day, he set out to explore the world. Princess Lizzy, with a heavy heart, had packed his favourite bugs in a little Tupperware box. She had hunted all day to find those bugs in the crevices and gaps. Now. Prince Grayscale’s palace was in a place that was self sufficient and hence he had never had much interaction with living beings and bugs outside that area.

Hopping from tree to tree and running across the ground, Grayscale reached the busiest part of the city. For a minute, he felt like he was dreaming. Strange monstrous creatures were walking only on their hind legs, there were strange shaped objects zooming by on the roads, there were no trees anywhere in the vicinity and all he could see were towering mountains that he heard the two legged creatures refer to as “buildings”. To begin with he was in awe of all that existed outside his palace, then that awe turned into fear and finally, panic that he was lost and wouldn’t be able to find his way home!
He was hungry and had already gobbled up all the bugs that he had brought along from home. He missed Lizzy and vowed never to leave her behind like that again. But that was for later. He had more important things that needed his attention like finding food and his way home. Food came first and hence he began his hunt. He scaled the buildings, checked every inch of the road and just when he was about to give in to the thought that he would die of starvation, he came across a few dead insects lying around a trash can. Little did he know that they had been killed by insect repellents and hence were not edible. Hunger had clouded his senses, he couldn’t even notice the difference in taste and just lapped them all up. As expected, shortly after that, his tummy started feeling weird. He could feel his stomach growl and realized that an upset digestive system was just around the corner. Just as he stopped for a second on the road to catch his breath, he was almost crushed by one those strange objects zooming past on circular limbs. He had heard the two legged monstrous creatures call them “cars”. The fumes that those objects emitted were toxic that it almost choked Grayscale, who had always been in the midst of nature. Wandering from place to place in an attempt to find his way home, he walked into an office. He could see just one thing all around. Madness. Then suddenly, one two legged creature said something to another two legged creature, within Grayscale’s earshot, about that office being an advertising agency. And then he figured the reason behind the chaos. Now, advertising is not an alien concept, even in the reptile kingdom. There too, they have print ads and television commercials about the companies selling the best packaged bugs, the best properties on tree tops (a human equivalent of a penthouse) and the best skin polishes to keep that scaly skin glistening!

Suddenly, a female two legged creature saw him and shrieked. Grayscale was petrified. Partly by her size, partly by the shrill voice and partly by the decibel level of the scream. He spotted a plant in a transparent container, kept atop a flat structure made out of wood (there were plenty of money plants in the office) so he leapt towards it in the desperation to protect himself. He made it to the tree and started looking around at the surroundings. Slowly, one by one, all the two legged creatures gathered around him as if he was some display piece in a museum! Except for that two legged creature who had screamed on seeing him because that creature had climbed up another flat wooden structure. Then one of creatures who had gathered around him, moved forward and grabbed him before he could escape. But instead of killing him, the creature stroked him and put him in a drawer and shut the drawer. Sitting in the darkness, he thought about his palace, Lizzy, the warnings of Dr. Spectrum and wondered whether he will ever be able to make it back home.

After what seemed an eternity, his captor opened the drawer and put an assortment of dead insects before him. Some of them were his favourites, like the mosquitoes, the beetles and the spiders that had to be eaten extremely carefully because of the high level of toxins. But at that time, he was plain homesick and wanted nothing more than get back to Lizzy, hug her and tell her he was sorry and that he would never leave her like that again. So he moved away from the insect spread and sat down. The creature looked at him for a while and then picked him up. Then the creature started speaking in a strange language and took him out into the porch. That female who had screamed on seeing him the first time, screamed again. His captor took him out into the open air and placed him on the parapet. Grayscale looked around and viola! He saw his palace. He realized that he had taken a full circle. He sprinted to the nearest tree he could find and raced home. There was a renewed energy in him at the thought that he was headed home finally! It had been a day that turned out to be a little too eventful. Prince Grayscale felt he had lived an entire lifetime in just that one day. But he was happy that he had explored so much of the world! Nobody had done it before him. Not that he intended to do it ever again, either.

Finally, he reached home after dodging three huge birds of prey who wanted to eat him up and one dog that wanted to make a yo-yo out of him. The moment he spotted Princess Lizzy, he ran up to her and took her into his arms. Her joy knew no bounds because after this long, he had almost given up hope that she would ever see him again. The kissed, sitting on the highest branch of the tree, under the moonlight and slept under the stars. The very next day, they got married by the chameleon marital laws and lived happily, tail in tail, for the rest of their lives…

This was the story of Prince Grayscale and his day out.

STOP!

हिंदू हो तो हिंदू बने रहो
मुस्लिम हो तो मुस्लमान
पर मज़हब की दौड़ में यह न भूलना
वतन तुम्हारा है हिंदुस्तान

इस मुल्क में पले बढे हो
इसकी लाज नीलाम न करना
किसी मज़हब ने नही सिखाया
बेगुनाह की हत्या करना

जिहादी मुस्लमान बताओ
क्या कभी रहीम ने राम को मारा है?
और कट्टर हिंदू तुम कहो
क्या कभी भगवान् ने अल्लाह को धुत्कारा है?

जब ऊपर्वालों में बैर नही
तो क्यों उनके बन्दे लड़ते हैं?
कुछ लोगों के कहने पे
क्यों आपस में लड़के मरते हैं?

इस हिंसा की आग में कहीं
जल न जाए हिंदुस्तान
झुलस न जाए सारे गुल
बंजर न हो यह गुलिस्तान

सदियों से सब यहीं बसे हैं
बन गए हैं इस वतन की पहचान
बिन मुस्लिम है आधा हिंदू
बिन हिंदू, अधूरा है मुस्लमान

धर्म मज़हब से ऊपर तुम हो
आख़िर एक इंसान
और तुम्हारा वतन येही है
यह है तुम्हारा हिंदुस्तान

(This was written in memory of all those who lost their lives in the Mumbai riots in 1993 and the Godhra carnage in 2002. May their souls rest in peace.)

reasons to blog

A blog. What is it? Is it an online diary? Is it a medium to let out surplus creativity? Is it an attempt at promoting one’s writing skills?

Such questions kept popping up in my mind due to the excessive time I had at hand to kill. For me, it is a little of all of the above but mostly it is a platform to write. Just that. If I have something that comes to my mind and I want to let it out through poetry or prose, I know what to do. People read it. Some may like it and some others may not but when I am putting up a post, that’s not the first thing on my mind. Being a copywriter by profession, I am judged the whole time on the basis of what I write and it is the source of my bread and butter. But when I write my blog, it is for myself. To let out everything that clogs my mind from time to time.

I have come across people who write it for a specific purpose and seek to accomplish something through it. And I have also come across people who’re like me. Little T is one of those. Then there are those who use their blog as a medium to earn a little extra cash. And those who make their blog a personal diary.

Honestly, I know this isn’t one of my best posts and I don’t even know why I am writing this. Maybe because I just felt like it. Anyway, I will not drag it too long. Whatever be the reason, writing serves as an excellent medium to let out everything that’s pent up inside.

So to all those who put up their posts without any particular purpose and without the fear of being judged, welcome to the club. Keep the good work flowing in. that, by the way, reminds me that of all the writers I have come across, little T stand head and shoulders above the rest. Abstract as it may sound sometimes, her posts have a much deeper meaning and she’s an excellent writer. Besides being my constant inspiration, she herself has an amazing ability to put things across rather simply. What can I say, it just one of the many things that make me love her so much. I look forward to reading her posts everyday…

You’re the best, princess. May everything nice happen to you.

Adios.