Conversations-9

Hey Zack, how was your outing with your GF?

No great shakes, birdie! A bland routine call. She wanted a few bucks to tide over some personal hygiene purchase stuff…. Month end, you know? Forget it. You will never know.

Don’t get hyper. I know you, doggie! … Oops! Sorry.

That’s the spirit.

You are supposed to tell me Vinod Uncle’s weekend happenings?

Why not? .. Hang on. Let me satiate my thirst.

(in whispers) Look at how he is slurping milk from the bowl. Cold stuff. I can drink with my beak with less noise. See he is using his tongue – making a lot of noise. Indecent doggie! Talks as if he is great guy! Show guy!

Ready?

Of course.

Let me tell what they – Uncle Vinod and Boss – did this weekend. Their job got over partially – the English part and they wanted to chill out with those who helped them.

You know their colleagues?

Some I know. Some I don’t. Does not make a difference. Whoever the unknowns, the party is ours – I mean Uncle Vinod and Boss. I know how they behave. Past experience.

What they did?

Here’s something I will read it to you. It is from Boss. “Once again, Vinod was insisting me to go to that Mallu joint – Kalpaka”

What is Mallu joint? What is Kalpaka?

People from Kerala are called Mallus affectionately. Very enterprising people. Kalpaka is a three star restau-bar in Bahrain. Restau-bar is where they serve liquor and food. Understand?

Yes. Why Boss does not like Mallu joints?

He does not like Mallu food. Boiled rice, too much coconut in everything. … He is married to Palghat Brahmin. So he cannot afford to hate Mallus. Once I overheard that Boss’s parents lived in Palghat before he was born.

Must have been a century ago.

Mind your tongue. Boss is not 100 years old. He is young at heart and soul.

Okay. Let us not fight over unnecessary things. What they did at Kalpaka?

What a stupid question to ask? What you do when a bowl of grains and water is kept in front of you? Use your birdy brain… You eat… You drink. Isn’t it? … Men do the same thing.

They eat grains and drink water? Then what is the big deal?

Brilliant question. While you and I eat and drink and relax, men make a mess. Let me put it this way: they make an ass of themselves. They dance. They talk louder. Absolutely meaningless talk. Boast and brag. Imagine things and tell tales.

You mean they begin to act?

You can say that…

Are you hinting your Boss was not his sober self?

I won’t be surprised. Men when drunk do all such things. … I have authoritative info on that. One, theoretical. Another practical. Can I share with you? You won’t tell anyone? Agree?

Done. It’s a promise.

You know Boss’ daughter studying psychology?

Everybody tells so. Never seen her touch a book on psychology. I can say this authoritatively becoz I live in her study-cum-living room. Most of the time she spends painting pictures. Nude pictures. Some pictures I can’t make head or tail of it – what she keeps talking about as ‘abstract’. Listening to some stupid hard rock. Bloody noisy stuff. Meaningless lyrics. So, what about her?

I crosschecked with her about what happens to men when they get drunk. She read out a passage from one of her most-thumbed through book. From my understanding, their brains go berserk when sozzled up. So they forget their normal behaviour and act funnily.

Okay. What is the practical evidence?

Again a secret. Don’t tell a soul.

You’ve my word.

Boss’s madam one day shouted at him. “Everytime I have to clean the toilet. You don’t. Why don’t you at lease once in a while?” Boss replied that he won’t. Madam retorted: “Remember that night when you were sozzled up and puked all over your shirt, pant when Frank and Unni visited 15 years ago? Remember that night when I took you inside the washing room, you fell almost into the shitting bowl and blathered?”

Migod! You spy on your Boss’ family. Blasphemous.

Look. Get this straight. I was not even born when these incidents happened. I heard from Boss’s wife. I am sharing with you. Another incident: A few years ago, Boss lost his job and could not get another one due to recession. Don’t ask what recession is? I will explain on another occasion. One night, I heard Boss’s wife telling the visitor: “Faisal, You remember that day when he (Boss) was crawling on all four inside the house and telling us to ‘get Faisal immediately. I want to meet him now’. You know it was 2 a. m. in the night and my daughter pulled you out of bed from your Noida residence and you came rushing in a taxi. He hugged you and cried a lot. You stayed that night. He (Boss) was drunk fully that night. Next morning, he woke up and behaved as if nothing had happened the previous night. He asked you, “when did you come? Something urgent? Any problems at your end?”

Oops!

Now you know what happens to men when they are drunk.

Chilling, Zack!

Okay. Listen to what happened at Bahrain during the current visit.

Of course, Am curious. Shoot.

Uncle Vinod and Boss arrived around 9 p.m. They joined a small gang – 5 of them out of which they knew only two souls. Soon the gang swelled to 10. They began drinking and chatting. Everybody was taking at the top of their voice to drown some Malayalam TV broadcast blaring at Kalpaka. Uncle Vinod spoke in Malayalam requesting the restau-bar female attendants (another catch for men to throng such places) in vain.

Hmm..

They had a ball till 3 a.m. (next morning). They were so drunk, my Boss lost his marbles!

What do you mean?

Listen. They were seated in a hall with wall sizemiror on both sides. Boss was getting worried because everybody was shouting at the top their voice. He felt the people at the huge table behind him might get upset. That group was also having a party. Same numbers. More or less same dress code. Same gestures. Ordered more or same food. He tried to hush hush the group to talk in lower voice so that people at the other table were not disturbed. Nobody was willing to listen.

Then?

At one point, he signaled at the female waitress. Don’t get ideas! He wanted water to refill his glasses. He lifted the empty water jug in one hand and used his other hand to point to the empty jar. He felt he was talking to her in person. Actually he was talking to her mirror image on the huge lifesize mirror in front of him.

Hmmm.

The waitress saw his gestures and came from behind – understand she came from behind with a huge water jug. Boss was looking into the mirror and thrust the empty jug just behind his back voluntarily. She filled the gap –standing behind him and left. Nobody noticed anything amiss.

After sometime, Uncle Vinod – who was seated exactly opposite Boss – got up to go to the washroom. That’s when Boss saw his own image in the mirror in front. Rubbed his eyes in disbelief. Just turned around to see what’s behind him. Know what he saw?

No. What?

There was nothing. He looked in front again. The mirror in front showed the image of our big group partying. His mind has played a trick, thanks to the liquor. Except us there was no other group in that section of restau-bar. He saw the image of our own group on the mirror in front and felt another group was partying just behind us. Haha!

Funny indeed.

When they reached the Guest House, it was 3.30 a.m. While Uncle Vinod sat to watch a bit of Indo-Australia match live from Adelaide, Boss hit the bed directly.

Did he go for his morning walk that morning?

No. He did not. But he woke up at his usual time 4 a.m.

Crazy guy. To do what?

He sat up and began reading stuff from the Gurgaon Gang, his Indian collaborators – on men, women and sex. Says the Gurgaon stuff is more intoxicating than what he imbibed from bottles! Says reading that stuff makes him feel he is in his 20s!

What about the dog meat story I overheard?

Oh. That’s nothing. Koreans love dog delicacies and he advised one of his contributors to write on that. Don’t get ideas that he is going to knock me off. Know why?

Why?

In one of his regular columns, he wrote that his family consists of 4 members: himself, his wife, daughter and – of course, me!

You are lucky!

What lucky? I adore him, birdie!

More to come…

Conversations-8

Hey Zack, seem to be in happy mood today? What’s up?

Got a mail from Boss this morning. He seems to be having a ball again…

Don’t you miss him, Zack? ….

What to do, buddy? I cannot ask him to take me wherever he goes. …. There are some places he goes where I will not be allowed … Rather he might not want to take me along…

Understandable. What’s he upto this time in Bahrain?

Can I tell you something? … I miss Uncle Vinod more than my Boss, dude?

Didn’t you tell that you picked up this ‘Dude’ act from him during his last visit to Bahrain?

You’ve elephantine memory, though you are shorter than my tail, Tina. .. Vinod is a marry maker. …

Zack, not marry maker, … it’s ‘merry maker’!

Shuddup, your caged pinjira! Teaching me English? Gone mad?

Chill, dude! Don’t forget, you are not born English. Your forefathers came from Tibet, the Lamaland. Since I live with your Boss, I keep hearing the right words, the right way. Felt like correcting, when you mis-stepped. I won’t in future, if you are hurt. Sorry, Zack. Apologies.

Okay, okay….

What’s your Boss upto?

Hawn…. He’s on a paid holiday! He’s roaming around Bahrain. Visiting odd places. Meeting interesting people. Reading sexotic stuff. .. Moreover, the weather is freezing…!

Bahrain? In the Gulf? Freezing? You must be out of your mind. Desert country, pal!

I was an idiot like you till I saw Uncle Vinod’s pix. See, see this. … He’s wearing an Eskimo cap. Wearing woolen. The temperature, Boss writes to me, is 7 degrees at its lowest. Uncle and Boss live in a Guest House on third floor, just behind Immigration Office in All Hoora area. You know, Al Hoora?

Don’t be stupid… I never stepped out of this cage. It’s more than 2 years – living on what I am fed and jumping around inside this Mansion.

Tina, relax. Boss’s daughter once gave you freedom inadvertently by forgetting to lock the door of your Mansion. What you stupid bird did? … You tried to fly away through the grilled balcony. Unfortunately you failed and fell. Then you were recaged. You must have a gameplan to enjoy life. Look at Uncle Vinod and Boss.

Ah! … What do they do?

They chill out, birdie! Boss, as usual, wakes up at 4 in the morning and goes for walk and does other stupid things to keep his body and soul together. Uncle Vinod snores to glory till 7. Then both scoot to office – hardly half a kilometer away. Invariably both skip breakfast because they are in a hurry to get parking space closer to office and they fail almost daily. Pick up something from Jawad Express Stores – some sandwich, some juice.

What’s sandwich?

Good question. You never traveled outside your cage. So don’t know the worldly things. A few pieces of cucumber, tomato, cheese, tucked in between two slices of bread. That’s veg sandwich. Put mutton, chicken instead of veg stuff, it is non-veg sandwich. Honestly, I don’t like it. If you ask me what I like most, a good bowl of upma with coconut chutney, lot of aloo paratha. Sorry, I cannot explain these things. I know how to eat. Don’t know the recipe and preparation.

We were talking about Vinod uncle …

Yes, both eat their breakfast and check their inboxes for emails. Sorry again, I can’t explain these techie things. Call up Kaushal at www.octanmen.com. He has time and skill to explain things to dummies like you. Great guy!

What about your Boss? What he does?

He reads. … (pause) He reads … (Pause) …. He reads.

No other work for him?

Yes. He writes (pauses)…. He writes. (Pauses) He…

Enuf. What he reads and what he writes?

He reads his emails and replies to those emails. Then he reads a lot of crap. About what men want, what women want, how to do kind of stuff. Reads about where to spend leisure time, which place to visit…. He’s crazy about films and …. Girls… Not your neighbourhood variety. Top notch Hollywood, Bollywood…. He writes one of the stories he is reading is: Why Hollywood stars want to shed clothes in front of camera?

Why?

Oh! His job demands that. He is supposed to talk sensibly to his Bosses. There is no original wisdom – like you and I have. He has to acquire knowledge. So he reads a lot.

You’re condescending too much, Zack. No respect for your Boss.

I luv and respect my Boss. It does not mean that I should have not own an opinion about him. Don’t be silly, Tina! It is my freedom of expression. Last night, you called me all kinds of names when we discussed the contents of my Boss’s group publications which we were tearing apart – literally. While I defended my Boss, you attacked. I respect your freedom of expression. Know why?

Why?

At least you’re my family. I mean my Boss’s family. Boss and I should be ready to listen to criticism from within. For instance, if some outside voices the same opinion, what can Boss do? He’s a level handed nut.

Then, what your Boss does?

In between, he runs around with Uncle Vinod chasing….

Chasing what???

Relax, birdie. I know why you are getting excited. … Both chase clients for advertising material and pix for their publication. Then go to Curry Country and some eating joint for a good meal. …. They repeat the same exercise till they shut shop around 8 p.m. …

Then …

Well, that’s where the fun begins…

Fun…

Of course. They watch some Live cricket match being played at some place on Planet Earth. Also some NDTV news to catch up what’s happening back home? Discuss Indo-Australia cricket series.

Do they eat dinner or not?

They do. Only vegetarian. Know why? Because it is cheap.. Ha ha!

What’s so funny?

Forget it. My Boss retires to bed by 9.30 leaving Uncle Vinod to keep watching TV till 1 or 2 in the morning.

Uncle Vinod must be very young.

He’s in mid-30s. Great body. Great tattoo. Only thing missing is … lock of hairs!

He does not go for early morning walks..

Can I tell you something? … Vinod can’t keep pace with Boss in that respect. Rain or shine, Boss is meticulous about his morning walk regimen. Twice Uncle Vinod had gone along with Boss. Then gave it up. I did not ask him. But I know why? You want to know?

Sure… Sure…

Nothing special. Except Uncle Vinod is bit lazy. Don’t tell him that if and when you meet him. He’s chweet Uncle.

What they do on weekends? Thursday nights? Fridays and Saturday?

Good question…. (Phone rings)… Jus a sec. (Picks up phone and listens)

Dude, I have to rush out.

What happened?

My GF’s call that was. She’s waiting near the Qutub roundabout. Wants me urgently..

Girl Friend? Yours?

Yes. I will come back narrate you about Uncle Vinod and Boss’s weekend routine. Bye bye.

More to come…

Learnings-1

Have you ever said ‘sorry’ to your better half? Maybe. To your children? Maybe. To your colleagues? Maybe.

Have you ever said ‘sorry’ to your dog? Never. Either you don’t have one. Or you never felt the need to apologise to your quadruped pal or whatever you wish to call.

But, I did. Just on the day the New Delhi temperature touched 1.9 degree Celsius – the lowest over the past five years! Or a few hours after Alpana left the Indian shores for her Gulf destination.

The funny part…. Can you guess?

….

Give it up?

Okay. Understandable. It is tough to decipher the dog’s psyche.

The funny part is that Zack – my one-year old Lhasa Apso male - refused to accept my ‘sorry’. Instead, he showered affection – literally speaking, licked my face all over!

It was a great lesson for me at least. I simply cannot forget for years if someone wronged me. Even today I carry the old baggage: a list of those who rubbed me on the wrong side. More about it later.

By the way, why did I apologise? What did I do in the first place warranting a ‘sorry’ a few hours later?

Ok. Here it goes. On the said morning when the mercury dipped to its lowest in the Indian capital, we – Zack and myself – were out for our daily walk regimen. As a routine we cover a distance of 5 kilometres from home – behind the 12th century Qutub Minar till Qutub Golf Course – everyday. Sunday is the only exception when I don’t step out and my better half takes charge of walking the dog.

We passed the newspaper vendors sorting their wares around the street lights as autorickshaw drivers were sipping hot tea from collapsible polyurethane cups while listening to Himesh Reshammiah’s nasal hits blaring from their loudspeakers. Someone had a FM channel which was dishing out golden Hindi hits: suhana safar kind.

‘Hi Zack!” called out one vendor, who is familiar with us.

Zack greeted him with a ‘wow, wow’ and tail-wagging.

No sooner did we pass the District Magistrate office, Zack emptied its bladder. Another routine. A stray dog from the opposite government authorized car parking lot came rushing to sniff Zack. I shooed it away. Zack, though was keen to mix and play with it.

A few minutes later, hardly a 100 metres away from the Qutub Minar, Zack stopped to ‘poop’. Again, nothing unusual. Another routine. He stayed a little longer than normally it takes to perform his morning ablution.

I tugged the chain and Zack refused to move. Like Mallika Sherawat’s Maiya, Maiya act in Bollywood blockbuster of 2007 Guru, Zack shook his belly.

Again I pulled because it was windy and chill and my uncovered palms and fingers were getting numb. Zack refused to budge.

‘Enough. Move!’ I shouted.

Zack looked at me with annoyance. I could feel it.

After a few more jerks, we resumed our journey.

Usually, we talk a lot – I mean, I talk a lot. Telling Zack what I plan to do that day. What my worries are. Just that day’s agenda. He never responds. But the fact that he never objects to what I say gives me satisfaction. Like leaders obsessed with listening to their own voices. Listening to others does not go down well! We perform this ritual daily.

But that day, we were silent.

We were greeted by the Bharat Petroleum pump workers and the autorickshaw drivers waiting outside the T B hospital. And also the cleaners washing the Blue Line private buses stationed outside the Delhi Jal Board water dispensers at the T junction where you take a left turn for Gurgaon. Routine stuff.

Back home, we entered the washroom and I got Zack’s legs washed with cold water to get rid of dirt collected on its paws during our morning walk. It was still dark as I settled into the living room sofa to sip my hot cuppa. Zack came and sat under my legs.

It refused to drink the morning milk. When cajoled, it snared at my spouse. Perhaps one of those moody days, we felt and left it alone.

In the matter of next two hours, my spouse left for work. While getting ready, I found Zack was lying next to my daughter on the cot. Both were waiting for my departure so that they can bolt from inside and return to sleep perhaps.

I picked up my laptop and just patted Zack. I was about to pick up Zack and want to warmly kiss him. He gnarled. First time. He bared his teeth. First time.

“Hello? What happened?” I asked.

Again, it gnarled and bared his teeth. When I tried to pick it up, it bit me. First time again. No teeth marks. No blood. No scratches. Lucky, ohmigod!

I quickly moved away my hand. Looked at Zack with anger written on my face. He kept looking at me.

“Better ask Zack to behave himself… One more attempt, I will throw him out of the house. Biting the master of the house is simply not allowed” I blurted out and left.

I walked out without bidding ‘good bye’ to Zack. First time. I heard my daughter chiding Zack. I have never left home without ‘bye bye Zack’.

The ‘master of the house’ bit was too much. Manly arrogance, I realized as I sat in the car.

In the past few weeks, whenever Zack had bitten my spouse for whatever reason, I advised her to treat the dog as a family member and not get upset. She refused to buy my argument and kept incommunicado with Zack for a day or two at least. Today it happened to me and I began to analyse my own behaviour. Hypocrite, I was.

Nevertheless, the whole episode got blurred as the day progressed. I have totally forgotten about the morning development with Zack.

Around 4 in the evening, as I opened the door, Zack jumped at me with the usual affection. It barked at me. Jumped all over me. Licked my face. Refused to free me to remove jacket and shoes. No rancour. No bitterness.

The food bowl was untouched. Pedigree pieces were in tact. I picked up one of the green pieces and fed. Zack munched with panache. As I made coffee, it stood next to me, wagging its tail. I picked Zack up and kissed it warmly.

After coffee, both of us went to sleep for an hour or so tucked under the same quilt. Could feel the warmth as the cold wave swept the North India.

‘Papa, Zack had a bad stomach it seems. Its whole body was splashed with its ‘poop’ and you did not notice this morning. It felt uneasy and that is why it got angry and bit you,’ told my daughter as we sat for dinner.

After I had left in the morning, my daughter noticed the uneasiness and checked Zack thoroughly. And found out the reason. She quickly remedied the situation by cleaning up the ‘mess’ and a warm hot water bath.

Now I understood Zack’s refusal to move during our morning walk. How silly I was. I got angry with him for no fault of his.

He indeed showed his annoyance, but forgotten the whole ugly episode (from his perspective) in the evening. Otherwise, where was the need for him to resume his affectionate overtures towards me later in the day?

I felt ashamed. Like I told you earlier, I still carry a lot of baggage. Given a chance, I wish to confront my perpetrators even today. What will I gain? Some psychological relief. Bullshit. Or Dogpoop!

A little dog taught me a crucial lesson: yes, all things we encounter may not be palatable. If you wish to show your displeasure at some wrong done to you, do so. Don’t carry forward those grudges. It will serve no purpose.

This morning, as we neared the District Magistrate office, I picked up Zack. Held him close to my face. I said, ‘Sorry’. He gave royal snub. He ignored me totally. Instead, he licked as a sign of love. I felt helpless. Shameless. Wept uncontrollably under the cold January darkness.

Will I be able to discard the baggage of grudges? I don’t know. But I will try.

Thanks, Zack!

p.s.: I don’t understand my Boss’s outpourings. Vinod uncle, do you? - Zack