Transferred and Transfixed : This Too Shall Pass

Image courtesy : 8tracks.com

The best and the worse quality inherent in a government job is in its transfer policy. Best-becuase every three year you get to see new places. Worse-because you get to see them even if you don’t want to. Therefore, government job offer letter boldly clears its stand on transfer when it says – “Transfer should not be considered as a punishment”. Which means, that as a punishment even if you are posted among  people who look like the first inhabitants of earth you may curse god but thank govt for the opportunity bestowed upon you. The next important thing is to buy a three year calendar in advance and start striking each day as it reluctantly passes off till you are again transferred. Policies of Government jobs and beliefs in Hindu mythology have startling resemblance. Transfer-posting and birth-rebirth  find their basis in law of karma. Your karma in previous posting place- which includes your relation with your bosses and  Jugaads you have established- and Karma in this life governs your next posting and your next life respectively.

Getting transferred is also like listening to Punjabi hits these days. Left without an option, you first dislike the way words crumble upon each other, then try to get along by humming the tune, then somehow manage to hum it. When your blabber becomes proper words and your senses acclimatises with the hoarse and loud music then your ears are served yet again  with a latest hit.

There is also an unsaid rule underlining all transfer and postings which is also called as Law of Least Comfort. It is an extension of Murphy’s law and says that out of all posting place available at the time of your scheduled transfer, you will get the one which puts you in the least comfort position. Another law is the Law of Inverse Choices. It says, that the preference order of the transfer choices exercised by you is inversed ,by the mighty and not the almighty,  at the time of your actual allocation.

Having said this, I still consider transfer and change of place and nature of work as a way out of monotonous life. Stagnation in any form kills the very essence of life which is evolution. Change is always better for an individual and the organisation. Be it in thought, deeds or place. Like a stream of water moving down a hill gets enriched with essence of herbs and flowers. So does an individual moving ahead in life. After all,  life is all about meeting new people, visiting new places and experiencing new cultures. Bundled together in memories these experiences are forever cherished.

Lecture and nice talks apart, let me tell you my part of story:

My life has been on a recent turmoil as I suffered the first blow of transfer as a government employee. To a place where if you need to satiate your hunger in a restaurant after 9 pm then all you got to do is to sit, take a deep breath and relax till that feeling subsides. A place still serving its people with more number of Talkies cinema than multiplexes.

The over hyped government bungalows and helping staffs had deserted me. All I was left with was two sets of sweaty cloth,  McD Aloo Tikki Burgers for lunch and dinner and a sun shining above to ensure that me and perspiration always go along. The transfer to a new posting place made me sympathize with Manoj Kumar's character in the movie Roti, Kapda, aur Makaan. I rate my struggle a notch higher than his as more than often I had to fight even for a filterd water. So in my case the movie be better renamed as Roti,Kapda,Makaan aur Filtered Paani. The struggle for basic amenities ran into days during which every hope of a  better living was brutally murdered at the hands of a daunting task of searching a house on rent. Once I contemplated writing a book on '101 Reasons Why Not To Join A Government Job'. But dropped the idea as selecting 101 out of 1000 accumulated then so far seemed more difficult.

It has been around a month that I shifted into a new rented accommodation and the whole house still bears a look of a stampede. As if someone made a large heap of all packed boxes and set them to explode.  As I write this post, I find myself surrounded by a violent mob of packed boxes and angry luggage yelling and pushing to be set free. A few more days like this and I could be charged for a mass  genocide of innocent boxes. Bound with mind numbing duty during day hours and spending wonderful evenings in this clutter, I take turns to curse God and Govt both in equal measure.

An unattended, dusty, 10x15 inches framed wallpaper, partly hidden by a soiled cloth is lying listlessly in a corner. Presently, it serves the only ray of hope  for a better life ahead as it reads                “ This Too Shall Pass”.

P:S – Allow me to take this platform to thank a dear friend, Vipin Kumar (posted as Assistant Divisional Engg/ Railways), and his wonderful mother, in whose house I took shelter during my initial days after transfer. Thank you for making me feel like a part of your family and all the help extended.  Forever obliged

Thank you for reading

Motion Se Hi Emotion

An act that creeps unconsciously into your consciousness and adulterates your thoughts day in and day out, I suppose , that is addiction. You repeatedly perform an action everyday that seems so obvious and one fine day you realize that you are so much comfortable with it or so much  uncomfortable without it.

What? What did you think just now? Come again loudly you dumb mind of mine! Of course, I am not talking about daily ablutions. No, not also about  mastery in brushing teeth twice daily.

Disguised above is an effort to humbly boast about writing as an addiction. All those wasteful lines were part of 'make word count 600' bug I am presently infested with. Those were also beta version of a magnanimous opening about writing as a skill that I will vomit all around in the next stanzas. Skills which in nascent stage are just Ctrl+C and Ctrl+V but then manifest into a pest reluctant to die anytime soon.

From Kansas to Alabama- My Years In Uttar Pradesh

Kanpur Central Station

"I have never been to the U.S, but I have been to U.P”. This famous sentence was once not said by William Wordsworth. Had he then Wordsworth would had his name rechristened by the local populace of Uttar Pradesh as William Gorakhpuri or Wordsworth Lakhnavi. The overwhelming hangover of colonial regime interspersed with Indian fervour finds its utterances in names like Faithful Ganj and Burlington chauraha. So it would also not be surprising if the landmark Taat Mill Chauraha were renamed after Wordsworth as Taat Will Chauraha or rather Willyum ganj.

The Land Of Falling 'Degrees'

Image Courtesy: Sitepoint.com

 India is as much a land of religion as much as a land of degrees.Religious structures throng the nook and corner of its vast stretch. So does thousands of degree colleges. Temples in Varanasi, Betel shops in Patna, Momo stalls in Gangtok and Engineering colleges in many cities are prosperous business entities. The abundance is so significant in some cities that 7 out of 10 times a randomly tossed stone will hit an engineering college. The remaining three it would be a coaching centre.

Mere ODD-EVEN Ayenge- Karan-Arjun Revisited

*Also on theindiasatire.com*

http://www.theindiasatire.com/2016/04/mere-odd-even-ayenge-karan-arjun.html

It’s an action-packed story. No, it is a thriller. Alright, let us not be partial, it is an action-packed suspense oriented melodramatic emotional thriller.

This is not an ordinary punar-janam script. It is the Baap of all of them.

It goes like:

Once upon a time in the urban fartlands of Dilligarh there lived a rustic and dreadful Thakur. Thakur Durgandh Singh. Durgandh? Because his presence created an atmosphere of durgandh-read toxic gases- in the village. The two sons of Thakur, Nitrate Singh and Sulphate Singh, had intoxicated the atmosphere of the village by setting up many industries and construction units that emitted noxious gases. Particulate and construction dust lingered now on the otherwise clean air of Dilligarh. People were afraid of their presence. Where other villagers moved in cart or bicycle, Thakur and his crony family, sister BEHENzene and mother  AMMAnia vroomed past on dusty roads in their  motor vehicle. The naive villagers did never object to the noxious gases their vehicle emitted and consoled themselves with just covering their nose with a torn piece of cloth. Whoever raised his or her  voice against Thakur khandaan polluting habits were meted a capital punishment of forever living in toilet-less slum. The ignominy and horror of openly defecating in a field ensured that no one ever attempted a dissent. The tyranny of Thakur khandan abjectly left the villagers to meekly surrender and suffer in an atmosphere of above permissible limits of Durgandh, Behenzene, AMMAnia, Nitrate and Sulphate. 

Our Jungle Book and Our Doordarshan

Have you ever been on a time machine?

I have. Yesterday, as I sat inside a multiplex savouring Disney’s Jungle Book, my fantasies of Mowgli were fanned up again. As the memories of yesteryear evinced nostalgia I was virtually transported to several years ago. The years of a sound blaring large box with a front glass called TV, the years of tweaking an antenna to catch the fleeting  signals and a booster to boost  the reception . The years of black and white television and a much colourful life.

I Have Disproportionate Assets! Sue Me.

Photo credit: denverpost.com

Disproportionate assets, for the sake of novices, is an accumulation of personal asset which is not in proportion to the living style what a particular organization deems as deserving  for  you. Disproportion is commonly  ascribed  a negative connotation like possessing an asset whose value exceeds  the purchasing power of your salary. There are exceptions, though. If you don’t ride a two wheeler Honda Activa and instead drive around in a three wheeler Vikram Auto then it is not disproportion. It is a blatant example of  stinginess and you should conceive changing such ignoble habits soon in the larger interest of your family.

I too have disproportionate assets. So what? Drop me in front of a firing squad. But let me first rewind you to 2011.

Exams: An Alternative To Arranged and Love Marriage

 

photo credit : thehindu.com
An artist's imagination of people appearing in examination to get married

As the youngest sibling, I take pride in having successfully married off my sister once and my brother twice. Twice? Did I just say twice? Oh yes. The first one was rescinded with a ceasefire between the two parties. It met a natural death by today's standards during the probation days after the engagement. Thankfully quiet earlier than the cards were printed. Or we as cunning Brahmins would resort to using whitener for replacing the name of the girl with a new one.

I also boast of immense knowledge gained in deciphering meaning out of nonsense matrimonial profiles scattered all over the newspaper on Wednesdays and over internet.

I have the  first-hand  experience in arranging arranged marriages and second-hand experience in knowing the nuances of love marriages  through my  cupid struck friends who  turned Devdas eventually.

Oh JNU! And We Thought Engineering is All Fun

phot credit : vividscreen.info

"In India, the pen can never run dry. Something, interesting, is always happening"- Ruskin Bond.

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The fact-finding committee of Government is under severe pressure from engineering students  across  nation  to verify the legitimacy of ‘figures’ of condoms, beer and cigarettes allegedly found inside JNU campus.

The BBC committee of engineering students that is spearheading the agitation,  have asserted that if the figures are found to be correct, even up to 3 decimal places, then a second round of agitation across engineering colleges will be called. When asked whether their committee is sponsored by BBC they clarified, “BBC is Booze, Bust and Cigarette – the  yearning desire of all students right from 1^st year to 4^th year”.

A Doctor's Prescription on Nationalism

Photo credit: dnaindia.com

"It is necessary for every person who stands for progress to criticise every tenet of old beliefs (if) reason is the guiding principle of  his life. "- Bhagat Singh

“The only religion that is fashionable is patriotism” – Swami Vivekananda

Not a sermon but you are best to choose your side and allow me do the wittiest best I can do.

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"Look at your eyes" the eye specialist said donning a thick lens “they have swollen like table tennis balls"

"Oh really?" I asked. I was soon reminded of a neighbour‘s son who armed with his new found love of table tennis bat posed a potential threat to anything that looks similar to a TT ball. I vowed not to go near him.

"If you keep watching TV like this I assure you with  two lawn tennis balls popping out below your head" he concluded.

"But there is so much going across the nation" I reasoned  " My nationalism and freedom of expression both are at loggerheads, people are marching, sloganeering. It's all over the news"

Letter from an aggrieved Shani dev to Maharashtra CM

Photo credit: indianexpress.com

Halo CM saab,

Shani here. No, not Sunny Deol but Shani Dev or the planet Saturn you can always relate to. We both are ghayal ,although, he by acting as one and me by acting of my bhakts.

Well he can make an Ajay Mehra avatar again to fight for the truth so evident in his movies. But I am more or less a mute spectator since ages as the He-sena and the She-Sena are embroiled over something which I would never bother of.

Ghayal Once Again – Oh Sunny! what hath thou wrought

There are some movies which are once in a generation.  There are others  which come with an average expectation but are an instant hit. And there are some which re-establishes the old and the dying of Bollywood.  To put the curtain down Ghayal –Once Again is not any of them.

Ghayal-Once Again is not a movie it is an experiment which vied to discover a catalyst that would soar the dipping career of Paaji but in the process has surely drowned it. The intelligentia of the script touched record low levels. At few points it  dipped so low that scientist could go on a deep water exploration using it.

Doesn't makes sense here? Make me watch a movie like this and I can bemuse you with more such paranoid activities here.

Marriages: Arranged in Heaven, Squandered on Earth

credit: india.com

"Aana hai bhai. Pakka" Said my friend’s friend as he handed over his marriage invitation magazine.

Yes! With 8 thick glossy leaflets and an overwhelming embossed lord Ganesha on the cover it resembled more like a grandeur magazine than an invitation. Here was this person, just an acquaintance, but too jubilant to invite an extra mouth for a rupees 1200 something per plate event.

I gathered my senses back and reflected upon my friend’s friend’s face.  His mouth lay wide open salivating over his wedlock. The pearly white teeth splendidly projected the euphoria into a dazzling smile. "And come along with bhabhi". His face radiated a cunning smile as if he knew something which I am yet to come terms with.