Progress

 As a senior citizen she struggled to learn how to use her new mobile phone, a beauty her daughter and son-in-law had bought her with love. It had features she had never used before - like a camera, and internet, with chat applications. Her grandson helped her patiently to learn the basics of how to use a chat app so she could send voice messages, and answer the video calls whenever they called. “You also can call us, ajji! You just have to press this button”, he enthusiastically explained. “You can call me even if parents don’t answer the calls. But only after my school hours”, said the precocious 12-year old. 

Before she knew she was part of several family groups to chat. There were umpteen good morning messages, loads of videos of temples and other religious places that many other seniors like her shared. The younger ones too weren’t far behind in forwarding interesting videos and pictures and news tidbits. She consumed them all with interest for the first few days. One day, she chose to record a message and share in the groups she was part of. Since there were three separate family groups, her only grouse was she had to record the same message three times. Her grandson wasn’t around to explain how she could share the same message across groups!

“Dear Bandhu,

“I am so impressed with all those messages you share each day in the group. It has made me learn about so much new and feel as though I myself have travelled to those exotic places. I thank you all for them. There are many life lessons too that we all could implement.  

“However, I am more interested in news about yourselves. What is happening in your lives, and what you have been doing, etc. Will you please start sharing such messages too?”

Her voice message received scores of thumbs up and applause emojis. She felt happy. She looked forward to hearing updates from all her relatives, distant and near.  

Next day, people sent updates on their lives to ajji in the group. A few more followed thereafter.  The happiness though was short-lived. The messages in the group reverted to be the same old forwards soon after. Sure and soon enough her daughter called to school her on the etiquette of engagement!

Misnomer!

 

When he looked at the phone, there were multiple missed calls. He had forgotten to turn off the silent mode after waking up, and had got busy with the festival related chores. When he had picked up the phone after dressing up post his shower, he realised his folly. The locked screen also showed up a strange message from his boss. 

“Call me back, sweetie”, the voice mail message had been transcripted. It was more than a shock being referred to as ‘sweetie’, by his boss. A lady to boot. He rubbed his eyes and looked at it again.  Without wasting time he went into the voicemail box and heard the message. He let out a big laugh and a deep sigh of relief.  A contraption that understood English and transcribed accordingly didn’t yet get the nuances of Indian tongues. AI and LLMs will surely meet their many matches and waterloo here, he thought smilingly. 

His name had been transcribed as sweetie in place of ‘Sudhi’. 

He sent a response to her on WhatsApp. “Happy Ugadi, maam! Will call you in a while”. 

Stuck. Unstuck.

 “Hey! I’m in town for a meeting. Will be free tomorrow, as it’s a holiday. Wanna catch up?”, read the message from her. He was pleasantly surprised. It didn’t take him long to respond in affirmative. Soon, they were discussing the watering holes to hang out at, and the food that would go with the drinks in the evening. 

Not too long back, and not recently either, he and she had dated. That too had happened serendipitously. They had connected on a dating app while he was on a work trip in a different city. It didn’t take long for them to discover loads of common interests, apart from fancying each other physically. To top it they lived in the same city, but surprisingly hadn’t come across each other. Just when he was thinking he might confess he loved her, they were forced to part ways. 

He had to move to his hometown due to a bereavement in the family. A short break became a long one as he had to disentangle a lot of succession and property related issues. She had in the mean time found a new job and moved cities. The goodbyes didn’t hurt, and there were no hard feelings, even though they both genuinely had wished they could’ve met before they went their ways. With time, their communication too had dwindled. 

They both followed each other across various social media, including professional networks and sports apps. He knew that she was now in a relationship with someone, from the frequent stories her partner updated, promptly tagging her. He had even discovered that they also had a couple account on Instagram, that had quite a following. Even as he had felt happy for her, there was this tinge of jealousy, seeing her with someone else. 

At the appointed time, he arrived at the newly opened gastropub - she had chosen it but it was a place he too had wanted to visit, but hadn’t. Not long after, she too made her entrance. After the casual banter over the first drink, and ordering for a refill, he said, “Congrats! I notice you’re hitched”. 

“I’m not hitched!”

“But, I see that you’re very visible with your guy on insta”

“Yeah, I’m seeing him, but not hitched”. 

“How’s it different?”

“Hitched would mean we are engaged. We aren’t yet”. 

“Oh! That way. I’m happy for you. All the best”. 

“Thank you!”

“How long has it been?”

“It will soon be two years”

“Wow! That’s awesome”, he paused but couldn’t keep his envy in anymore. “You never told me this”, he made a long face. 

She ignored his petulance and smoothly deflected the conversation to another topic. Soon, it was time to wind up, pay the bills - go Dutch - go home. 

She brought back the earlier topic, as they walked towards their waiting cars. “Aren’t you too seeing someone?”

“Yes”, he admitted sheepishly. 

“How long has it been?”

“Two years”. 

“May I repeat what you said earlier?”

He realised he’d lost this one. He muttered an apology. She brushed it off, and said, “Grow up, sweetie!”, smiled, and patted his cheek, and got into her car. He felt he was dunked in an ice bath. 

Antidote

 

He was travelling alone, on work, leaving behind his wife of just over a year. The first such travel since their wedding. And, to a much-sought destination. She was not very pleased he was going alone, but she wasn’t able to take leaves to accompany him; nor could she work offsite as her office had revoked those privileges with the New Year. 

The network was patchy and they couldn’t connect much over the day, as he slogged away. When at last he was back from work and chilling at the hotel, there was decent WiFi and he could talk to her. 

“Sweetie, the place is an idyll. We must make plans to come here on a holiday and just chill”. 

“Would love to, hon”, she cooed. 

“There are loads of mosquitoes though”.

“How are you dealing with them? You are allergic to their bites”. 

“Yeah, I forgot my repellant sprays too”. 

“Hope you don’t get too many bites. You’ll end up scratching and causing them to fester”. 

“True. I will be careful”. 

“I’m worried about you catching malaria or something”.  

“Don’t worry. I have taken precautions”. 

“How? You just said you didn’t carry repellants!”

“I’m having gin n tonic to keep infections at bay”

“What! You’re drinking alone. Plus saying it will help ward off mosquitoes”

“Sweetie, you forget. Tonic water has quinine. It’s the antidote for malaria!”

“Your sense of humour is asinine”, she retorted.

Let’s Begin At the End

It was a move he was not expecting. When it was proposed he didn’t warm up to it easily. He had to be coaxed and cajoled with a carrot or two, by the CEO himself. A substantial hike, and frequent home trips, on the company account. He gave in, reluctantly, and agreed to the change of role, and place. 

He was forewarned about the difficulties.  That there was enough baggage from the past that needed to be offloaded. That the important clients (read, moneybags) had issued an ultimatum - to either pull up socks and deliver or face an exit from the lucrative contract. It wasn’t an option for his firm to lose on a big client, and all the profits that accrued from the business. As it had been in the past, he was chosen because the bosses thought he knew how to untangle the mess. 

After difficult meetings with the clients, where all their egos had to be suitably massaged, and every praise imaginable had been made about their benevolence, he went about learning what needed to be done. He listed out the software code changes to be made, redrew responsibilities, estimated new expenditure, and conveyed updates to the senior management. 

As he waited for approval of new budgets and replacements, he  remembered the legend of Hercules cleaning the Augean stables. In his case though, it wasn’t the first time; he smiled morosely fearing it might not be the last time either. 

                                    *************

It is two years from then. He has delivered on the objectives, and the firm has recalled him to the HQ. The position he would be occupying suits him too, a surprise as he wasn’t expecting to be offered that role. As he prepares to head back he wonders if he should instead have hung up his boots at the firm, and chosen a new path. 

#talltales

#shorts

#tinytales

Wisdom of the Selfless

 A news article about a teenage girl embracing a life of renunciation (is that an oxymoron?) piques the interest of a journalist who chooses to interview her. It isn’t easy to obtain a time slot as she has already attained the status of a mini celebrity overnight. He pulls some major strings and manages a half hour interview with her. 

He reaches her home at the appointed hour. The girl is seated on a plush sofa with a carefully chosen faux leopard skin on top. She is demurely dressed in appropriate coloured robes for her newly attained sainthood. Her parents stand guarding her, apart from a posse of fawning bhakts. Not to waste precious time, he straightaway begins asking questions. (The entire interview took place in chaste Sanskrit-laced Hindi. For the convenience of the readers, it is translated to English, with due care). 

Journo: Ms S…, what inspired …. 

Sadhvi (cutting him off firmly): You cannot call me by my old name. That girl doesn’t exist anymore. You can call me either Sadhvi Ji or Mata Ji. 

Journo: Okay Ji. What inspired you to renounce the worldly pursuits? I learnt you wanted to become an IAS officer. 

Sadhvi: Yes. My goal in life is to serve people. Hence, I chose this path. 

Journo: You could also serve people as an IAS officer….

Sadhvi: Yes, for that, I had to wait pretty long. I didn’t have the patience. 

Journo: They say patience is a virtue of every sadhu and Sadhvi, right?

Sadhvi  (a moment of silence, and a deep breath later): You do not understand. It would mean I had to complete my studies, write competitive exams, and get selected to become IAS. I didn’t have the patience to wait that long to serve people. I consulted my Guru Ji and parents. 

Journo: So, what are your ambitions as a Sadhvi? What do you plan to do in the days to come?

Sadhvi (carefully readjusting her facial expressions): See, again, you are seeing me as a mere mortal. I have renounced everything. I don’t have ambitions. Whatever I want to do is for the people. I already have begun that. 

Journo: That’s very nice to hear. May I know the initiatives you have made?

Before Sadhvi S could say anything her parents interrupt. They say, “Aren’t you seeing this place? This has been redecorated and spruced up, all thanks to her new status. The MLA Smt SRS was here to seek her blessings. She has made all these changes possible at home. She has said no expense is too much to ensure our daughter’s progress in her spiritual journey! Oh no, not our daughter anymore. She is our Mata ji. Sorry Sadhvi ji”. 

Sadhvi (looks at them and nods her head gently and continues): First is to get my own aashram built. We have already identified the land for this. It will be on the banks of the river. Shilanyas will be made by Mantri ji responsible for this district. Already there is a long waitlist of devotees who want to contribute, and even join my ashram as spiritual volunteers. I have to screen them all personally using my third eye. 

 

Journo: And, about the people you want to help?

Sadhvi: It appears you are slightly daft. What else was I talking about so far? All the people I want to help have already begun to come here as my devotees. 

Journo: Oh okay! But…

Sadhvi: You still have questions?

Journo: Yes, I wanted to understand what help will you be providing these people umm your devotees?

Sadhvi: I will bless them. With my blessings they will all begin their spiritual journey. 

Journo: I thought you’d help people overcome their poverty and other difficulties. 

Sadhvi: The biggest poverty is being spiritually poor. I am here to lift them out of it. They already are asking me why don’t I become a Minister! I have said no. 

Journo: Yes, as a person who has renounced worldly things, you would not want to be there, I understand. 

Sadhvi: Oh you don’t. I am still underage. I cannot fight elections now to become a minister! I will consider it when I am eligible to contest. 

Journo: How does entering politics align with spirituality?

Sadhvi: Politics has become so dirty, we need to cleanse it of all its corruption, violence, and greed. How else to do it than by entering the fray? It can only be cleansed from within. Just like how you can become a good person from within. Spirituality is not out there somewhere. It’s inside. 

Journo: You earlier said you had no ambitions?

Sadhvi: These are not ambitions. This is the path that God is showing me to follow. Now, it’s my time for prayers and then meeting new devotees. If you will excuse me…

Journo: One last question please?

Sadhvi: Please make it quick. 

Journo: How did you attain such wisdom so young?

Sadhvi (smiling at him as though he is an imbecile): Who said I am young? Follow me with faith and you’ll know.

She gets out of her seat, and an ardent devotee gently bows his head and offers her a shawl to keep her warm as she steps out. The interview is over. The journalist is now on his way to salvation himself. 

Humble Pie Times

 

Move over, Narayana Murty! You have got serious competition. 

In a latest development, L&T Chairman Subramanian has called for 90 hour work weeks coz he can’t stand to be in the space with wifey while awake.  While addressing the media at a high-profile event, he said it is the only way one could attain peace, happiness, and Nirvana at the earliest. Also, he expressed his shock that people have more things to do at home than just stare at spouse! 

“Why aren’t they having 600-odd maids and valets to help them?”, he shot back at the hapless reporter who dared to raise his doubts about the need to perform chores at home. “But Sir….”, the reporter continued his bravery. “Don’t butt in anymore”, thundered the great corporate leader to thunderous applause.  

He said he believes in the adage, “Work is Worship” verbatim, and if it were in his power, he would implement a working Sunday everywhere. “Alas! The nation needs to beat China, where people work even in their sleep, while our people sleep at work”, he lamented. 

He has promised to come up with even more innovative ideas for the youth of the country. “A Power Nap is all that is needed to perform. Why waste 7-8 hours sleeping?”, he signed off.  

The business honcho’s words have caused a roaring debate across social media, and opinions are divided. While all leaders across the political and business spectra are lauding his wise advice, those who work wonder about work-life balance if such measures become a reality. “We will burn out in no time”, said an L&T employee who chose to be anonymous. “Families will suffer and what about holidays?”, said a young man who has recently joined TCS. Business leaders laughed the criticism off and said, “Don’t we have families? Aren’t we taking holidays? These youngsters must learn to enjoy life even vicariously”, they opined with finality.