Conversations-6

Boss, what happened to Vinod uncle?

Me: Why? what happened to Vinod? You see something that I don't see!

Did you not notice he has lost a lot of weight these days?

Me: No. .... (after a pause) ... you're right. He looks slim and trim.

Particularly after his trip to Bahrain.

Me: Now I understand what you mean!

What?

Me: It is the LWE effect.

Come on! Don't confuse me. What's LWE effect?

Me: Long Week End effect.

I dunno what you are talking.

Me: Let me put it this way. Describe a typical weekend in Oman.

For you? Or for the rest of Oman?

Me: For Oman, of course, dumbo!

By Thursday afternoon - say 2 p.m. - the entire Muscat is evacuated.

Me: What?

Sorry. It is an exaggeration. You don't get to see a soul or car on the road after 2 p.m. Thursday.

Me: Okay. Then?

A majority of them go home. Dine and sleep for a while. Watch a DVD. Expat bachelors congregate at other expat single/expat bachelors' airconditoned residence for partying. Loud music. Packaged food. Mountain Dew. Sohar Chips. Chicken, Mutton chops, etc.

Me: You are a terrific observer.

There are some who watch satellite TV channels the whole night and go for cricket practice near Khoula Hospital for a few hours on Friday mornings. Visit Ruwi or Al Shattr theatre to see Hindi/English movies in the evenings.

And expat blue colour workers from the subcontient meet over shared tea and samosas near Ruwi Street and talk and talk and talk.

Me: Enough.

What has Oman rundown got to do with Vinod's slimness?

Me: Good question, Mate!

No more mystery, Boss. Come to the point, pleeze!

Me: Okay. … Life in Bahrain is different, buddy. The weekends are long. L-O-N-G. It begins on Thursday afternoon and lasts till Saturday midnight. Two full days of abstinence from …. Hm.. work.

Absence of work means laziness and boredom, isn’t it?

Me: Maybe in your lexicon. Not for Vinod from Oman. His Long Weekend (LWE) agenda is pretty interesting. Wanna know how?

Yeah, yeah.

Me: Why don’t you ask him directly? He’s here. …. Hi Vinod! Wat’sup, dude?

Vinod: Hi Zack. All well?

Uncle, nice to see you. What happened to you?

Vinod: What happened to me? What do you mean?

Uncle, you look smart after your return from Bahrain.

Vinod: Oh, you mean the slim and trim look?

Yeah, uncle.

Vinod: Go to Bahrain for a week or 10 days alone and drive everyday to your place of work from your pad. Even your Boss will become half.

I don’t understand….

Vinod: Simple Zack. Am sure your man by now would have told you about LWE.

Oh sure.

Vinod: I step out of office after it becomes dark…

Me: Tell Zack that it turns dark at 4.30 p.m. in Bahrain in November-December. Otherwise, it will create a wrong impression that you work hard on Thursday afternoons also.

Vinod: Stop nitpicking, dude! … I reach my pad. Shower and step out around 8 p.m. Pick up your Boss from his abode and drive down to Seef Mall.

To buy something, uncle?

Me: Bullshit. Patience, please. Vinod, continue…

Vinod: We enter the Seef Mall complex and try to park our car.

Okay…

Vinod: We drive round and round…

Funny, na?

Vinod: We drive round and round…

Again?

Vinod: When did we stop? Even after 15 minutes we are unable to spot an empty parking slot… So…

Me: We drive round and round…

Okay. Let us assume that both of you have managed to find a slot and parked your vehicle. Then what?

Vinod: We enter through gate no. 6 after 10 minutes walk from the parked car.

Then what?

Me: What else, but …

Vinod: Walk, walk, walk…

No buying? Nothing?

Not affordable, buddy. We do a lot of window-shopping. Enter any cloth shop and feel the fibre. Look at the price tag. And..

Vinod: Look at each other and…

Me: Walk, Walk again.

Vinod: We walk into shoe mart and examine products on the rack. A pair of German-made loafers will cost a bomb. From the looks of sales guy, it is apparent that he knows our financial status. So, we are just ignored.

Then, Uncle?

Me: What else, we walk out … to walk again.

Vinod: We check out the price of chocolates and step out to walk again.

It appears you are on a walkathon program, Uncle.

Vinod: You’re smart, Zack. That’s what we do inside the Seef Mall which is spread over acres and acres.

Me: Tell him about our multiplex experience and the slimming therapy…

Vinod: You mean the forced fasting exercise?

Me: Yeah.

Am curious to know Uncle what Boss is talking about.

Wow! My Boss would have almost lived entire his Bahrain stay inside some multiplex or other…

Stop the jaw-dropping act and listen!

Don’t be sarcastic, Boss. Vinod uncle is really funny narrating the story.

Vinod: Zack, is it a story? Real life experience, dude!

Go ahead, Uncle.

Vinod: We pick a film randomly and buy tickets. As we step out, the counter assistant tells the theatre showing the film is at the other end.

I don’t understand, Uncle.

Vinod: It’s simple. Seef Mall has a 16 theatre multiplex.

Me: Simple. The multiplex has 10 theatres on one end and six at the other end.

Vinod: We are a bit hungry…

Me: What a bit hungry? We are starving. After hot lunch at Curry Country around 1 p.m., we ate nothing.

So, what you guys do?

Me: Vinod walks into the nearby MacDonalds and orders some veg and some non-veg stuff with a pair of cool colas to be consumed inside the auditorium.

That’s kewl, no?

Vinod: What cool? McDonalds guy takes almost 20 minutes and the movie is about to start in the next 3 minutes.

Me: And the theatre we have to reach is at the other end of the crowded mall. Half a kilometer away, perhaps?

Vinod: We grab and run… yes… run

Me: Vinod is a champion runner. He can easily represent our country at the Beijing Olympics!

Vinod: Okay, dude. Zack, we run as if the building is on fire becoz your Boss does not want to miss even the commercials before the film commences. Crazy guy.

Me: You will agree, Zack, commercials sometimes are far superior to the movies that follow.

Then what happens?

Vinod: We are stopped at the entrance to the multiplex at the other end…

Why?

Me: They don’t permit outside food into the auditorium.

Uncle, you said you were hungry….

Vinod: That’s the fact. We are deprived. We’ve food. Can’t eat. We are forced to store the piping hot Burger and chilled cola tub into a non-descript cupboard near the entrance.

Me: The theatre assistant prods us to eat and go…

Vinod: Your Boss vetoes becoz we are late.

Poor guys

Vinod: we watch the movie with hunger written on our faces.

How was the movie, by the by?

Vinod: Who watched the movie? I did not. Your Boss watched without blinking till the end, am sure.

Uncle, what did you do?

Vinod: Me? I slept till the fag end.

Why?

Me: Because he was dead tired from walking, walking …

Vinod: And hunger.

What happened to the food when you came out of auditorium?

Vinod: We picked up the cold, stale food and walked out.

Didn’t eat?

Vinod: We walked for 30 minutes .- 10 minutes inside the Mall and another 20 minutes to the car parking… And then swallowed the stuff.

Pitiable situation, Uncle!

Vinod: Now you know how I became presentable. Imagine I repeat this program on Friday and Saturday as well with or without your Boss in tow. I prefer to call this Walk-and-Starve Program. This way, even TunTun will become an Aishwarya Rai.

Who’s Tuntun, uncle?

Me: The fattest comedian of Bollywood in the good old days. I hope you know who Aishwarya is?

Don’t be insulting, Boss. I know the Bachan bahu!

Vinod: Zack is smarter than you, dude.

Me: Halt, man! You’ve not talked about working day workouts!

Vinod: That’s another story.

Uncle, pleeze!

Vinod: On weekdays, I come to office at 8 a.m.

Me: Which you never do in Oman.

Vinod: Oof. Parking is not a challenge in Oman. But it is in Bahrain. If I am late even by 5 minutes, I have to park my car half a kilometer away and …

Me: What else, but to walk.

Vinod: My problem is multiplied becoz as a sales guy, I have to keep going and coming. In a day, 5-6 trips in and out of office. So, half-a-kilometer walk one way per trip. Say 3 kilometres walk per day minimum.

Me: Sometimes, Vinod has to park his car in a multistoreyed parking lot and walk down 5-6 floors down becoz lifts may not be working.

What a sad story!

Vinod: What to do?

Then, why don’t you stick around with Oman?

Vinod: Are you mad? Bahrain is not Oman. Upmarket. Almost at par with Dubai, but marginally cheaper than Dubai.

Hmmm

Vinod: Long weekends, Zack! Malls, Restaurants, Curry Country, Sangeeta, Mysore Café, Multiplexes to sleep and snore. Many other A-T-T-R-A-C-T-I-O-N-S! Above all….

Above all, what Uncle?

Vinod: You become trim and slim.

Me: And pose like a model before a giant poster outside Seef Mall! What a creature you are, Vinod!

Vinod: Zack, how do you tolerate this man?

Take me to Bahrain, na, Uncle? I will give company on your walkathons…

More to come…

Conversations-5

Me: I envy my ancestors.

What happened, Boss? Why this nostalgia trip?

Me: The Ancient Man was self-made. He never worked for anyone – except for himself and his close family to begin with.

Hmmm…

Me: He slept whenever he wanted. He worked whenever he wished. He ate whatever he could lay his hands upon. Some days he went hungry. Some days he overate, perhaps.

Okay, Okay. Why this long preamble? What are you driving at?

Me: There was no Boss, you know, for him to report to perhaps. Nobody gave him a job in the first place. No perks even. Equally, none took away those freebies, making him feel he has been deprived or robbed. Whatever.

Enuf, Boss! Get it out of your chest. Are you pink slipped?

Me: Dumbo, I am not talking about myself. … Look at France. Workers – both blue and white collar – are on strike. The Republic has come to a standstill. Schools closed, flights delayed, trains not running. Even newspapers not out…

What’s happening?

Me: French President Nicolas Sarkozy is trying to implement pension reforms which he spoke about as part of his election manifesto. Workers are not liking a wee bit. Therefore, the work stoppage to make Sarkozy to backtrack.

What’s pension reforms?

Me: The strike is over government plans to reform so-called special pension systems enjoyed by about half a million workers particularly in the French rail and energy sectors. Sarkozy plan to stop the aberration of permitting workers in this segment to retire two and a half years earlier than the rest of population.

If so, only rail and energy sector workers should stop work. Why others joined them?

Me: Spillover effect. Civil servants stayed away from work as the strike entered the second week. Teachers, customs agents, tax inspectors, newspaper printers, distributors etc. to press for pay hike and job security. Sarkozy is stranded.

Oh!

Me: If you scan dailies these days, labour troubles are not restricted to France alone. Look at Iran. Workers are protesting that the proposed labour reforms will make them even poorer. .. One of the placards reads: “500 industrial plants in crisis – 5 million hungry people. It is not a matter to be proud of”. Protestors claim that the proposed changes will create unemployment and reduce job security. Privatisation programme is another bone of contention which is leading to job losses. With inflation reducing the real income, it is pinching. So the protest.

I heard you talking over phone about Bahrain workers situation the other day…

Me: Yes, you’re right. “We want our jobs back” is what retired Batelco workers are asking for. Batelco is the leading telecom corporation in Bahrain. “I am still too young to retire. Having a job and doing work is what makes every man win his dignity,” says one worker, according to media reports. There are complaints that many were forced to retire or removed from jobs.

You told over phone that it is being contested in legal fora.

Me: True. Batelco management and trade unions are contesting the retirement programme.

What about the three teenagers who were holding placards demanding job and going on hunger strike?

Me: Now it is over. Three Bahrainis ended their 9-day protest for not getting jobs. Holding placards, they stood outside the Civil Service Bureau in Manama. Five years ago, they have been promised jobs by a government official, but nothing seems to have happened. So, they took it to streets.

What’s the latest news on them?

Me: One Shaikh Hassan Sultan, Al Wefaq Bloc Member of Parliament promised jobs and asked them to give up their protest. Trusting him, they have ended their protest. Let’s wait and watch.

Boss, you’re right about your ancestors. The Ancient Man was a lucky soul. No masters. No job losses.

Me: He was his own Master! …. Hey! Where are you going?

Let me try out a Business Plan for myself. How long can I go on depending on you and keep calling you Boss?

You …. Ungrateful creature! …. Get lost!

More to come…

Conversations-4

Boss, what’s this parcel you’ve brought in?

Me: Food, buddy.

Yummy.

Me: Hang on. Not yours. Mine.

What do you mean?

Me: It is my food. Leftovers from Swagat.

Swagat on Ruwi Street?

Me: Yup.

That down market South Indian restaurant?

Me: Enough of this down market nonsense. What’s your problem?

Boss, I never seen you bring leftovers from Swagat in the past… That’s why…

Me: Did you read this morning papers?

Nope.

Me: Instead of scratching your s-c-r-o …. Sorry!

Go ahead. You seem to be in a foul mood.

Me: I am entitled to.

Why this frustration?

Me: Bloody inflation has gone up by 7 per cent as of September in Oman.

Oh! You’re talking about the Ministry of National Economy stats released.

Me: How do you know?

Boss! I am net savvy and you know that. I checked out the Ministry website.

Me: Jesus!

The website says that the annual inflation in Oman has touched a 16-year high in September. It’s in November, we are informed about what it was in September!

Me: It takes time to compile data, Mate! I’m sure you would have read in the same story that the food prices have shot up by 14%.

Boss, hang on. The net is on. Lemme, read it out for you… Haan … “In Oman, food, beverage and tobacco prices, which account for almost a third of the index, rose 14% year on year in September, while rents climbed 7.9%.”

Me: What was inflation like the previous month?

You mean, in the month of August?

Me: Yeah.

Jus’ a minute … 6.47%

Me: My blood boils when I pay bill at the counters – be it at Lulu or Swagat.

Relax, Boss!

Me: What’s awful is Monica Malik’s predictions.

For Godssake, who’s Monica? And what is her predi… Whatever?

Me: She is an economist with EFG-Hemmes, an Egyptian investment bank in Dubai. She says – wait a minute, I have the news clippings in my trousers – Haan.. Here it is… She says, “That’s a huge jump in food prices and I don’t see it coming down much with continued Dollar weakness.” My foot!

Once again the Dollar story, na?

Me: There is a limit to everything.

Boss, did you hear Hugo Chavez’s predictions on Dollar?

Me: You mean the Venezuelan President?

Yep.

Me: What did he say?

He says, “Soon we wil not talk about Dollars because it is falling in value and the empire of the dollar is crashing”.

Me: You believe him, dumbo?

How does it matter, Boss? Nobody is happy with Dollar, but has no guts to delink.

Me: Who wants to anger the US? Nobody.

Listen to what Saudi Arabia’s Foreign Minister Prince Saud Al-Faisa lsaid last week at the Riyadh summit: “We should not mention the dollar because that would only endanger it more and aids its collapse”.

Me: Okay. Please dump this half-eaten idli and a few crumbs of masala dosa into the fridge. I will eat it when I am hungry.

Boss, what about this five teaspoonful sambar you’ve brought in a polythene? Keep it or throw it?

Me: Are you mad? Why did I bring home if I want it to be thrown? Put it in the fridge, dammit! Everything costs a lot these days!

Boss, did you see this advertisement?

Me: No. Read it out.

Some Keraliya Samaj is organizing a free lunch programme for the poor at the Krishna temple past noon today.

Me: Thanks, Mate. You take care of the house. Lemme go.

More to come….

Conversations-3

Me: Ready for a ride, Zack?

Not really.

Me: What happened? You’re fond of outings.

Sorry to say. Not with you.

Me: Why not? What have I done to you?

You’re too much. Keep ribbing the cabbies.Me: Anything wrong?

You ask too personal questions.

Me: Like what?

Remember the last nite ride from Diplomatic Area to CBD?

Me: I don’t recollect. What did I ask?

You asked Abu Waleed, the taxi driver, his name.

Me: I usually do – everytime …

That’s okay. He promptly replied he’s 70.

Me: Hmmm

Then you asked him stupidly – sorry, Boss! – whether he was married.

Me: And he responded positively.

How many children, you asked him.

Me: Of course and he said 21.

Then you asked: How many wives? Too personal, don’t you think so?

Me: What’s personal? If you recollect, I told him if he does not want to answer, let him not. Still he answered.

Yeah, he said three wives.

Me: In fact, he began naming them….

You cut him short – very impolitely and demanded why he married three…

Me: If you are a human being, you will ask the same question. Unfortunately …. Let me leave it at that.

Abu said, he divorced his first wife after she delivered the first child because …

Me: Abu said, he was expecting a triplet in one go! Mindless and cruel to the woman.

Enough, Boss. You made him spill out his guts and bare his soul to you – an unknown passenger who will pay him a pittance for a short ride. You may never ride his cab because you will leave this city soon. Whether you will return or not is uncertain. Still you are nosey.

Me: Still I don’t find anything wrong.

The climax was unforgettable. …

Me: What?

As we got out of his cab at the destination, he refused to accept fare from you because you’ve been nice to him and he almost hugged you – saying that you are like his long lost younger brother.

Me: The intention was not to save a few Dinars for myself or deprive Abu of his earnings. It so happened.

It was not the first time and Abu was not the only victim. You’ve done it with others as well.

Me: What are you talking about? Can you be specific?

Fuggeddit, Boss. I wonder why you get into this questioning mode. You tried to become a lawyer and failed miserably and taken up the present job. Still not given up, it seems.

Me: Buddy, there are two reasons: one, an inquisitive mind. Second, to kill boredom. Moreover, do you know what Plato and Aristotle taught? Knowledge springs out of questioning.

Boss, do you know what G B Shaw said on the same subject?

Me: What?

Ask not. You will be told no lies.

Me: What are you driving at?

For a moment, think: how much of what Abu told is real? How much is fiction?

Me: You’re a bloody, four-legged spoilsport!

Mind your language, Boss!

Me: Oops!

Woof!

(I collapse on the sofa. After a few minutes, I get up to leave)

Me: I’m going. Are you joining me?

One condition.

Me: What?

You’ll keep your mouth shut during the ride….

Me: Ask not. You will be told no lies!

More to come…

Conversations-2

Me: Zack, where are you?

In the balcony, Boss!

Your food is getting warm…

Okay

Me: What do you mean, okay? Come now.

You’re impatient, Boss.

Me: Tell me, what is so interesting outside that kept you hooked?

Nejad is in town, you know?

Me: Nejad who?

Ohmigod! Mahmould Ahmadi Nejad, the Iranian President.

Me: What is he doing in Bahrain?

Don’t you know, he is on a one day state visit to the Kingdom!

Me: Yeah, now I remember. I was stuck in the traffic this morning as his motorcade was moving around.

I was watching him as he passed our road just now. I like him, Boss!

Me: Why?

Gutsy guy. Speaks his mind. He told the King of Bahrain not to allow the United States to dictate terms in the Gulf region. “We need to cooperate and stand together to face any problem. … Then the Americans will be forced to leave our countries alone,” he told His Majesty.

Me: You’re a free spirited canine!

Boss, don’t use that word.

Me: What word?

Canine… What you mean is that I’m a dog.

Me: Come on. Even I am an underdog… Be proud of your heritage. You are also God’s creation. I too. You’ve a role to play. And I have a role to play. Let’s do justice to our respective roles.

Getting sentimental?

Me: Not at all.

Thanks, Boss.

Me: Okay. Finish the meals.

(Zack completes food and burps)

Me: Ha! Ha!

What’s so funny, Boss?

Me: Your burping reminded me of something.

What?

Me: Nothing.

Come on, Boss. Tell me, na?

Me: Two days ago, I was lunching with Vinod at Curry Country. Got a call from office, asking me to rush for an interview with a senior ministry official.

Okay

Me: I reach office to pick up my tape-recorder, notebook. My Boss gently takes to me to the anteroom…

For what?

Me: Patience, please. … He asks me whether I had taken onion during lunch. I affirm. He tells me that I smell of onion and the bureaucrat whom I am supposed to meet may not like it - the smell or odour of onion.

So what?

Me: Listen, listen…

I am, Boss!

Me: To get rid of the onion smell, I am requested to drink gallons of black coffee… Chew as many scented chewing gums as possible…. Plus sprayed with deodarants.

Okay. How did the meeting go?

Me: It went off well. But since that incident, I developed a phobia towards onion. It makes me run. Never ever chewed so many gums in my lifetime. Even now, my jaws are paining.

The other day, you said that onion acts as a blood purifier and its other medicinal properties.

Me: Of course, I did. Maybe it is a passing phase. Till I leave Bahrain at least. Ha, ha!

I understand.

Me: Don’t you, dogs, laugh at all?

Again, you are using that word. ….

Me: Sorry, mate.

We don’t. Laughing is reserved for you guys, perhaps. No non-human beings can try that.

Me: You mean that animals are not endowed with laughing faculty.

We express our pleasure by wagging our tails.

Me: Yeah. I see your tail is stationary. I presume you don’t enjoy this bit of talk.

Boss, watch out. You are about to fall off the chair…

(I fell off the chair)

I told you…

Me: My butt is hurting, mate!

Be careful with your butt.

Me: Why?

Know Jessica Simpson?

Me: Of course. What has my butt got to do with her?

She says that her definition of a ‘real’ man is one who has a cute butt…. If you hurt your butt, your chances are bleak!

Forgodssake, leave me alone, Zack!

More to come...

Conversations-1

Boss! ….

Me: Hmm…

Did you see the SMS on your GSM?

Me: No… Anything special?

Sreekumar Kochunarayanan says he misses you. He is now in Riyadh.

Me: Doing what in Riyadh?

Says he is attending the OPEC meet.

Me: Okay. Sree is the Editor for Gulf Oil & Gas magazine from Bahrain. He has gone to cover the event for his magazine. You understand magazine, no?

Of course, Boss! I live with one does such a silly job since my birth! By the way, what is OPEC?

Me: It is a cartel… Okay, okay, it is a group of oil-rich countries that control production and pricing. Does it make any sense to you, Zack?

Sort of. Does not matter. …

(Knock on the door)

Me: Come in.

(A room service attendant brings in hot cuppa with a sheaf of daily newspapers.)

Me: Thanks. … Close the door behind, please!

(A few minutes and a cuppa later)

Boss, Bahrain Tribune has a story that reads: Saudi opposes Dollar fears in OPEC declaration.
Me: Yeah. I read this in GDN.

Can you brief me, Boss! I am curious ever since Sree sent that SMS.

Me: Okay. OPEC ministers met in Riyadh. Iran and Venezuela – two non-Arab members of the group, wanted the declaration that will be issued at the end of this Riyadh conclave to speak about the depreciating US Dollar against other world currencies. And Saudi Arabia is opposed to it. That’s the story.

I know. .. I know, you wrote a story for your Muscat Economic Review?

Me: Dammit. It is not Muscat Economic Review, but Oman Economic Review- OER!

Boss, my apologies. But most of the time OER writes about Muscat happenings only. Am I wrong?

Me: Don’t you know we did a cover story on Duqm a few months ago. Duqm, let your pea-brain understand, is 350 km away from Muscat, the capital of Oman. We keep talking about Sohar – 250 km away – at regular intervals. If nothing happens in the far away places, how can you blame us?

Boss, you’re hurt. That’s not my intention. Anyways, sorry.

Me: You’ve to understand that the Gulf country is not your – and my – India.

Yes, Boss. … Tell me, why Iran and Venezuela want the Dollar declaration?

Me: Ho, ho. Not Dollar declaration. …

Whatever…

Me: Do you know both Iran and Venezuela hate the United States? Obviously, political reasons. They are seeking brownie points.

What about this story in GDN, “Qatar purchasing power hit by tumbling Dollar”?

Me: Oh, this one. Yeah, the Deputy Prime Minister Abdulla bin Hamad Al Attiyah said in Dubai yesterday (17 November) that “We feel concerned because of the very large decline in the value of the Dollar… Qatar’s purchasing power has fallen considerably.”

Boss, what is the fall like?

Me: You mean in percentage terms….

Yes, Boss.

Me: 9 per cent since January.

How authentic is this estimate?

Me: Dumbo, I am not saying it. But US Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson. He said yesterday (17 November) in Cape Town, South Africa?

You mean the same Cape Town, where our Indian cricket team goes to play chakhas!

Me:What chakhas? You mean sixers in cricket?

Yeah.

Me: Yeah, the same country.

What’s whatever-the-name ‘son’ doing in South Africa?

Me: Paulson is in South Africa to attend a meeting of finance ministers from the Group of 20 (G-20) economies. Poor guy, there again, he is bombarded with questions on Dollar.

Hmmm

Me: Yeah. Some ministers have expressed concerns over the falling value of dollar and told him bluntly that it is affecting their export.

What do they want?

Me: They want a strong Dollar.

Is it possible? Why?

Me: Paulson promised that US wants a strong dollar. “That is in our nation’s interest,” is how he put it. He hastened to add that it may take some time.

Did he say, how long?

Me: You seem to be worried more than the G-20 and the Qatari Deputy Prime Minister!

Yes, Boss. Doubly whammy – depreciating currency and inflation…

Me: My foot! You are too much!

What do you expect from me, Boss? My entire house – I mean, our – is strewn with books on economics, dailies, magazines and news clippings even in toilet. No bloody – pardon my language, Boss – doggy magazine.

Me: What about the latest Vogue with Deepika Padugone on the cover? What about the Esquire with Charlize Theron on the cover? Incidentally, she talks about her dog, your distant uncle/aunt/cousin! What about the Playboy?

Boss, give me time. I am poring over the Esquire story. Maybe we can talk sensibly on fashion and film stars next time. … Before I forget, Boss, even the Indian government has told the foreign tourists visiting Taj Mahal in Agra and other national heritage sites that they must pay in Indian Rupees. Dollars are no more acceptable.

Me: Ohmigod!

More to come .....