How to succeed without substance

The world has never seen the best people on top.Throughout the known history of civilization ,only mediocrity and sheer incompetence  has ruled and determined the fate of the human race.
So, my fellow duffers and below average brethren rejoice!The code to success has been revealed by the God of Mediocrity in Mariana Deep.Here it goes:

1. Remove your spine.
2. Keep your tongue dipped in butter and honey.
3. Look inwards.Love thyself only.
4. Be always with the T-1.
5. Be his Left hand.It reaches the most private body parts daily.
6. Always look up to T-1 with the expression of an awe struck adoring poodle.
7. Lap up his every word as pearl of ultimate wisdom.
8. Identify the best people in the organization. They are your tools to the top.
9. Take up the gauntlet at every whim of T-1.
10. Then throw it to the tools - read-competent and either self respecting or coward colleagues.
11. Tools will not go to the T-1 to expose you for obvious reasons.
12. Obtain the signatures of tools on the gauntlet.They will think that it is for their credit.
13. Save these finger prints to pass the buck and blame in case T-1 does not like it.
14. Create small favors to new recruits, fellow duffers.They will become your eyes and ears.
15. Blow your small achievements out of proportion.
16. Contrive to get all the awards for your insignificant and others' big achievements.
17. When difficult assignments come to you, manage to put them to the committee of tools.
18. If possible,learn and master MS Excel.Access will be beyond you.Word will find many willing typists.
19. Remember, Excel is so far the best fool-maker out of any T-1. For next 10 years all T-1s will be computer scary.
20. Always wear a Chameleon Charm on your sleeve.

Follow the code religiously to become next T-1.
Bon voyage to the top of the world!!!

Toilet trauma

One thing that distinguishes Asians in general and Indians in particular from westerners is the  toilet training of kids. This training   or lack of it reflects in the civic sense that is on display in these countries.Most of the Indians do not talk to their children about using the toilets properly.Things are further complicated by deep seated dislike to manual labor that makes cleaning your own mess an abhorred job which  is best left to  someone else.The only problem is where to find  that someone else.Therefore,the toilets of entire country are waiting for the mess cleaner and Indians are living the trauma of their own making blaming the government as usual.

The house

The great Indian dream's  is occupied in a large part by a dream house.After liberalization of economy suddenly the house has become a reality for crores of Indians.The low interest rates and easy financing as compared to pre liberalization era have painted the houses  of many colors on Indian canvas. I resisted the jump on the bandwagon for 27 years of my working life.But, finally gave in to my wife's incessant chant and with high degreee of reluctance ,I decided to test the waters.And the waters are real hot and the dream is turning out to be a nightmare.

The survey took us to such parts of the city which might have belonged to Pedar road to Dharavi.The ingenuity of builders took my breath away.In a space ,just enough to stand on one leg, they had costructed 5 bedroom duplexes.The day is not far when they will deliver 4 story houses on flower pots.Breathless ,I managed to use the sign language to ask the price.The cool ,unemotional answer ensured that the taken away breath does not return.

" Almost free sir.Rs 30 lakhs is just to pay the laborers who pulled my cement truck out of ditch in front of my site.! You are my family and I can not commit the sin of charging my bro."

Shuddering with the fresh memory of buying sugar and Dal at my (?) grocers',I begged the builder to indicate the  cost-to-him at least so that I do not carry the sin of swindling my brother builder  on Judgement Day.He didn't budge and I had to settle for the labor welfare.But he was not through yet.Insisting that his nephew and niece should have two chocolates (one apiece) he agreed to take  Rs. 29,99,980/- only :twenty rupees for the chcolates ,sir.

We trudged back to our 40 year old dilapidated company quarter only to find that its crumbling confines have suddenly turned in to  a gold mine  for the Income Tax department.This earthquake hit house has been valued to yield Rs. 30000 to the ITD.Now the quarter costs me Rs.3000/- per month. I can't do much(which I could not, anyway) as I can not even have the pleasure of pushing the EVM button with agonizing sense of revenge for next four years.Even the municipal elections have been held!

 

The Arrival

The gate was kicked  open ,its latch ringing in agony.The doorbell switch almost shattered on impact but held in its place by long ,hard press shaking the bell out of its slumber and making it scream due to electric shock.As if it was not enough to awaken the dead ones, an incessant, hard drum started playing on the door itself with the booted feet.My mother- in- law almost had an attack nth time and we along with  whole neighborhood  knew that she was back home and had something big to hit us with.

        The bolt could barely pull itself out of socket when she stormed  through the door and me.Dumped her school bag displaying the deep hatred towards it ,ripped open the zip and out came a beautiful piece of paper.She stood there holding it in both hands like Serena Williams held the winners Wimbledon Plate , a quiet smug smirk playing  on her lips.A sudden calm  descended after an equally sudden cacophony of her arrival.

      The  clapping started slowly, rising to a crescendo as she stood there glowing.We always knew it.She always knew it.She just did it this time around and went on to claim her due.The paper was a certificate that happily announced that the holder was the most improved student of the academic year and announced her new top rankings.

Kitty had arrived.

The farewell

It is coming.Creeping closer,welling up and inescapable.The series of events is snaking its way deeper into the consciousness and making every passing moment something to treasure.The ceremony of signing lab aprons is scheduled for tomorrow.One more step to that welcome dreaded day.The first  sari has been bought with the enthusiasm of a lark and accessories have all been lined up.One of these days she is going to wear that sari and dance her feet to tiredness  at the farewell party.That will be the last day at school.And it just seems the other day when we stared at each other with held back tears and separated tortuously by Sr in-charge at the door  of the class KG-I.Fourteen years just swished by.I tried to fool myself  by unsuccessfully thinking  that it is too far in the future.But it is here!At our doorsteps.The scene of KG-I is going to be repeated once again.Now at the station.However ,this time there is an eager and bursting desire to go out there in the world and do something she would loved to.I know that her tears will soon give way to big dreams and their realizations.Puppa will be left behind when she will soar.In just five months she will leave home as all daughters do.Of course ,she will be returning  but to leave again.And both of us will be sitting quietly in our respective reveries praying for our little one's safety and success.God bless you my doll.The farewell is here.

Learning music at 48

I have yearned for long to learn to play an instrument well.So far there have been many excuses not to learn.But when my daughter asked for a guitar as birthday gift this year ,things took a different turn.We were referred to Mr Sajal Soni by the music shop owner Mr Gangwani.There we reached  at 9 PM and requested him to accept our daughter as her student.He readily agreed but our dear daughter had a change of mind. We were left with a brand new guitar and an amused Mr Soni.Our son then picked  up the gauntlet and we had a company for the new red guitar that was going to last for some time.And what a revelation he has been!

Mr Soni is a great teacher.He just sinks into the mind of his pupil and and plays through his body.He is a very good singer and seamlessly plays all the instruments:Guitar,drums,keyboard, Tabla ,Violin,you name it.Always smiling ,he is adroitly supported by his wife who handles two kid daughters ,the house  and students practicing on keyboard at the same time with consummate ease.The house is full of music and has already rubbed on the daughters .Utkarsh and Ananya have also joined my son and the three are going to rock if I quote Mr Soni.Thank u Sir and may your expectations come true.

The chill

The winters this year are marvelous.For long we had forgotten about the chill that seeps down  even in the warmest and thickest of the clothing.Entire Europe and North America is reeling under the Freez.Here in Jabalpur ,the temperature has touched tonight about 2or 3degree C.It is difficult to drive the car as windshield gets quickly frosted.My Maruti does not have a heater and I somehow managed by running the blower and wiping the screen.The headlights of oncoming vehicles play their own games on your eyes  compounded by the crowd like traffic.The hands got almost numb during 15 minute ride from station to home.However ,son enjoyed the ride as he brought his rajai with him and comfortably spread himself on the rear seat under it.

The plight of footpath dwellers is heart rending.Little children are shivering under thin pallus of their mothers and unsuccessfully shielding themselves with polythene sheets.There is just no warmth out there.Something has to be done about it.If some members of the society can not make it ,the society ,we ,should respond with a helping hand.You can never provide for all shivering ,chilled out masses .But surely can share  your old warm clothing which is just getting finer crease at the bottom of a trunk.Take them out and disperse warmth.I am going to do that tomorrow.