A CASTLE WITH 16 ROOMS : AT KIBBER & HEMIS FIRST

1:1 BORN AGAIN

Ngubu was always enchanted by the Purohit’s scimitar. As much as the Purohit was. He took great delight in taking it off the gem-studded sheath just to run his fingers on the smooth sharp blade edge. Twisting and brandishing it against the sun created exciting sparkling shine stars on the castle walls. He hung the scimitar in the sheath, in the side straps hung on the wall. The Monk was the name Purohit used to send for the sword. He always kept the Monk near his diwan when on a political meet of the committee. Never else!

“You dread Death so much! And want to be born again?”

Chuckled the Purohit in a schmooze with innocent little Ngubu. His pre Sandhya Vandanam prayers talk.

The Purohit was attempting to unriddle, what was to Ngubu, a silent desire. A wish to get rid of his present miseries and to be the one with all the blessings, which he now learnt, were probable to acquire. And hope for!

Ngubu looked puzzled. After all we all fear death. “I am sure sans the bravado the Purohit does too!” Or so he thought. “Mine can’t be a state of dread!”

“See, to cherish a dream…to be born again...you first have to learn to court death! And not dread it. It is a prerequisite, a rule of life…die first!!”

The Purohit interrupted his wisdom laughing as also throwing his head back, on seeing the confused look on innocent Ngubu’s face.

“Though, be patient!” continued the Purohit. “Let the events arrive and unfold at their anointed time. For if you push a wish against its pre-ordained hour, you may not savor the joys its fruits beget! Probably the joys you sought in the first place. They may not unbundle along with the blessing. Be warned! This is the law of nature. Time and timing is the norm of life.”

“Remember, for a blessing to be savored you have to prepare the receptacle first. To take in the new we have to empty the vessel first. Unrid its waste. Caringly empty to create space. Yes...empty, but not discard the previous as refuse! If in haste you act violently, you may disturb the harmony in which the receptacle gives and receives. And exists. But yes, empty you must if you want a fresh fill!”

“Now give me the sandals I should take to the stairs for the prayers O Ngubu!”

“My master the logic you explain has always cleared any quiz web that cobbed my mind. I know logic alone is the light I should reach for when confused.” Thus spoke Ngubu while placing the Purohits sandals near his feet.

“Yes. Logic is compelling and convincing.” Mused Ngubu. “Like in the past when I asked you if there is God, you narrated the story of the carpenter who asked you thus!”

“Yes! I do recall the carpenter and his predicament” smiled the Purohit remembering the tale he had told him.

The carpenter was not convinced of the almighty, the ultimate creator who keeps us wheeling in perfect step and harmony with his tune. I pointed towards the furniture he had recently finished working on.

“So who made this?” I asked him.

The carpenter nonplussed by the question, winced in his hunch. Embarrassed! Yet blushing with pride at the unexpected recognition.

“Your blessings my lord…! I am just a craftsman.”

“So behind each craft there is a craftsman. Right?” implored I.

“Yes.”

“Similarly would you not credit our Lord for this fine piece of craft or creation that is man? And why even our beautiful world wouldn’t come to shape but for some craftsman. A creator!”

The carpenter unfolded his arms from around his knees. Understanding in a fervent surge of realization that his doubts were misplaced and his expression of them haughty, he immediately rose to first bow and in the same step fell prostrate seeking forgiveness for his doubting timidity. “Timid that I am I could not read the obvious logic.”

“No, it does not answer your question here. A logically arrived solution is never a conclusive answer. That is why we suffer in its maze and in disbelief!

With the same logic I should be asking next…who created the creator? And the question could be an endless adventure.

 No! Logic is rubbish. It only has answers for the obvious. The furniture.

For the world beyond, the answers are within you. In your belief…faith…and trust. The believer thus concludes far more easily. He moves in action with hope, the fuel of life! Logic stops much short in the same journey. Confused when it does not conclude. It is our belief that keeps us moving even when logic does not justify the odds of life!

Have faith O Ngubu! We all would be born again…and yet again. As also we would die. In betwixt, we have a purpose!”

The bells in the pier atop the castle disturbed the discourse. The Purohit arose and fitting his sole into his wooden sandals, reached for the flower-offering tray and his crow-hooked stick. It took him 24 steps in one stair fly to reach the perch where he met his master twice a day.

“More in the new day Ngubu.” The Purohit left after blessing his pupil.

Or so he thought.           

 

                                                                   A story by DK Sabharwal,  CEO,  abacus.

Concept, Layout & Design, Anindita Nath, M.A. Psychology, Delhi.

Content Research, Shivangi Shukla, M.A. Psychology, Delhi.

“Characters make a story. It in turn is told with an intent and purpose. Thus, the characters are purposive. Or each purposive story has such intentful characters. Ngubu was one for sure. We know. You would learn.”

Copyright © 2013 Abacus Management Consultants Pvt. Ltd., All rights reserved.

When The Gods Cheated!

He was thrashed in the day-long battle with his brother whom he had challenged to battle. He had lost one earlier too. His brother..Valli..took his wife and dethroned  Sugriva. Today he thought he would have his revenge since the God himself was in his side. Ram Bhagwan had promised to kill Valli the minute he saw him from his hideout. Stealthily! After all the two-monkey God brothers were committed to a hands-off arms duel to decide.

“I can’t seek him out up front since he is blessed to usurp the strength of his adversary facing him! However, rest assured, tomorrow when the duel commences I would come to help. ”

Reassured Sugriva again barked out Valli next day for a fight. The duel was just as furious and Sugriva was thrashed just as much, when an arrow pulled Valli out from the killing grapple in pain.

Dying, he was shocked to spy the God himself hiding behind a bush with his bow that fired the arrow still in his hand.

With his eyes glistened with tears he sought forgiveness from the Lord but seemingly stated “Why this deceit?”

Probably Valli cursed the Lord in his dying moments and thus in his next avatar as Krishna he too was done in by a hunters arrow. The hunter mistaking the knee as the eye of a doe!

In the entire story of Ram’s life he physically protected only two people. Both Sugriva and Vibhisana, Ravana’s brother..pitched against adversaries who were wife stealers!! And when he killed their adversaries the wives were married to the victors!

Fair redressal? No! Not so as it panned out in the story! Deceit is never forgiven!

Vibhisana who plotted against his brother is hardly celebrated. Till date in the Hindi heartland they use an adage that belittles him!...

Ghar ka bhedi Lanka dhaye!!

And for Valli’s killing as a hunter. The lord paid with his own life. And seemingly smiled and forgave his killer. He knew what he was being paid for. The hunter was inconsolable in his grief though!!

(A temple in Gujarat captures this moment!)     

Do you catch the sun?

In the morning before the pigeons follow the chirping twitters...
Cockerels actually trumpet later than we believe they do...try walking pre-dawn into a village with its share of unmanaged poultry...Hour of nectar beckons,somewhere in betwixt the losing blanket of darkness...the celestial lordship has declared its intent.But not presented his view..or fury.
The cool wetness in the barefeet awakens the senses.The holy call trumpets a yet another beginning.The day has begin.And so have I!!
(A later than this awakening is depressing..an opportunity lost...to watch a beginning in all its splendour..sound and light! Join me for a barefoot walk at 0510 take-off at the park.And why do you believe you are invited? Well just yesterday I made it at 0500..into the pack of stray dogs that frolic at this time.They stomped and abrased me all over.I was not carrying their feed.Till this gentleman in a very basic kurta-pyjama emerged as the braveheart.
I ran to escape the fury and the snarls.Turning just to thank him perhaps.
But all I saw was a very cajoled pack of scattered dogs attempting to find their warmth within themselves.No sound..no sight!
The sun emerged for a view a lot later than usual that particular day.
I am still unclear of whereabouts of that person.His kurta-pyjama was starched white is all I recall.No clear memory of face.And he did not speak.No yells to the dogs too.And thus no sound.The dogs submissively obeyed what he gestured with a flourish.I think I heard the fracture of the crisp starched kurta.That was all!!)

IN PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS

Learning to chant was easy.Like most learnings are in childhood.I was quite some load for my aunt who carried me-a chubby fatso whose knees ached and groaned after all the chases in the orange orchard in the day.She carried me on one hand rather bravely and in another kept pushing her beads.All the while the eyes were lovingly fixed at me and she murmured the hmmm which I was curious to understand.During one of those nights when I was being put to bed early as I had the flu,I asked her while she was busy with the cold head towels..that why and what she hmms...
"A prayer to the lord"
"But for what?'
"So that you get well soon"
"And now close your eyes and I will tell you a story"
"Tell me of god please".
And she told a new story each night.Mostly of gods,but sometimes of the village she left behind in Pakistan and surely missed a lot.
"There are 108 of them"she replied when I enquired of the beads she spun in her hand.
"But why these many and this number"
"Go add up this number...you get 9.Right!"
I took a while to agree though I was always sharp in numbers.
"Yes"
"The strength of this number is that you pair it with any other number and the sum wud always be 9.Do you get me?"
"Oh really! I wud check!!
"And if you do this cycle of 108 beads 9 times..well go ahead thereafter and wish for any blessing from the lord..You wud surely have your wish answered!"
She said this half in jest I suppose,pursing my cheeks and obviously bemused with the attention she got when she preached this.
I was unusually quite when she pushed me to sleep that night.Tossing to a side I kept thinking of what my aunt said earlier in the day.There were too many things I wanted to pray and wish for,but I settled for three...things I truly longed for...
When I got up next morning the first thing I engaged my aunt was for my own set of beads.
She looked surprised and tried to wish me away.My insistence and the gaze was obviously too intense to ignore..
"Bubbles you bother me when you gaze thus",is what she used to tell me often.
I got my beads!And I did just as told.9 spins of the necklace followed by the 3 wishes...blessings asked for solemnly with closed eyes and lots of reverence.I continue to do so till date and with a discipline matching that of my aunt who had earlier encouraged me each morning I did them.
But what are the 3 things you wish for? She asked of me.
Now that was something I struggled to confide..However a lot of persuasion and I was decided I would share with her and no one else.But just when I was ready she interrupted
"No.You should not disclose this to anyone.You have after all been talking to God!And these conversations are meant to be between the two of you...They should remain thus.Your secret!"
I havent shared them with anyone yet.No.With none at all!
I do the beads to date.And follow them with those 3 wishes.Time..in decades..has gone by.Alas!Not one of my 3 wishes have been answered !Though I yet hope they would one day!
My wife asked me once "So what sense this riguer?"
"Oh I got so much of love and happiness thru this..A daily ritual that positively energises me."
But the lord has already blessed me..though with a gift differing.. the gift of happiness!!Happiness as I absorb all experiences and emotions..however testing they may be...Experiences that life throws up with amazing regularity and variety!
Just like it happens,the journey is usually more fascinating than the destination!
Happiness is the 9...add up to any state you find the sum would be...well!...as magical as 9!
The gifts we pray for need not take just the shape we desire.Because then what we would recieve would be limited and finite to what and how much we can percieve.When the lord blesses he gives in a shape and form that blesses us the way it well should.Though many a times so differently from what we imagined while praying!
Happiness is the destination that we all pursue in the journey of life that we already have embarked on.
Chant keeps me happy in the journey...so happy that I am not looking forward to the destination point.I think I am already there!Already blessed three times over!

LAURA "COMPASSION"TOBIN..."Obviously!!"

Ananda(Secretary to Buddha): Is it true to say that cultivation of loving kindness and compassion is part of our practice?Buddha replied: No!It would be true to say that the cultivation of loving kindness and compassion is all of our practice.Compassion is a profound human emotion prompted by feelings for others.Thus, is considered in major religious traditions as amongst the greatest of virtues.The Hindu tradition defines Daya as one of the three central virtues in a person..others being charity,and self-control.The muslims ascribe mercy and compassion,Rahman and Rahim as foremost among god's attributes.In Jews tradition God is the compassionate or Rehmana.
Asked for summary of Jewish Religion in most concise terms,Hillel replied(reputedly while standing on one leg)
"That which is hateful to you,do not do to your fellow.That is the whole Torah.The rest is explanation: go and learn".
But what of compassion in leaders in industry?Does not this inhibit a leader from making tough though imperative business calls?
The answer is an emphatic No!
Virtues do not entertain a relationship with other qualities as in a pull and push cart.You gain a step and lose two...Neither does this come at the cost of decisiveness for e.g....
Thank lord no zero sum games here in all this!
Thus a leader could be compassionate and also take a tough stance.Infact the substance mix one would expect from a leader should have these essential ingradients firmly entrenched in the persona.
Woebetide a community whose leaders lack this virtue.
Chairman Mao not only crippled his country's social orders under the garb of cultural revolution but seeded the motivation to divide a wedge betwen people of a thriving community by suggesting to East Germany's leader,Walter Ulbricht, "to build a wall " when the answer was to engage!
His support for Pol Pot and the horrendous Khmer Rouge the masters of a slave dynasty in Cambodia is recorded in blood and black in all historical chants and journals.
And we would not like to venture into Feuhrer or Frederick..or Stalin or Mussolini !!
So is it for wrong reasons we need to establish Compassion as an essential virtue? I would say why not?
Uncompassionate leaders would be cynical...there is a secondary traumatic stress disorder called Compassion Fatigue.The characters exhibit symptoms including hopelessness,a decrease in experience of pleasure,constant stress and anxiety and a pervasive negative attitude.
Laura"Compassion"Tobin, ironically named thus in the fictional Dr Who , expressed herself mostly with a response "Obviously"to any comment or enquiry!!
Surely not the cynicist you would like to see as a leader.
Compassion gives the connectivity and access reach any leader needs to positively influence groups.Leadership is about influencing.And a young leader needs to carry this substance virtue in his/her persona and treasure it.
This defines him and his character to his team.
For without this he would be boggled like Alice was when she grew suddenly(in height) after mistakenly consuming the tempting brew.
Looking at her now distanced shoes she pitied:"I shall be a great deal too far off to trouble myself about you:You must manage the best way you can-"
Definitely not the engaging,involved leader one would like to see!!

Lessons In Leadership..

"The day soldiers stop bringing you their problems is the day you have stopped leading them. they have either lost confidence that you can help them or concluded that you do not care. either case is a failure of leadership"

If this were a litmus test, the majority of leaders would fail. One, they build so many barriers to upward communication that the very idea of someone lower in the hierarchy looking up to the leader for help is ludicrous. Two, the corporate culture they foster often defines asking for help as a weakness or failure, so people cover up their gaps, and the organization suffers accordingly. Real leaders make themselves accessible and available.

-General Colin Powell (Chairman (Retd.), Joint Chiefs of Staff

TOMORROW NEVER COMES!

This summer is unusually hot.The prevading smell of jasmines was overpowered by a concoction of basic talcum smell as subsumed in the sweat of a particularly hot summer's day in Chandigarh(India).
This wedding crowd may be a visual treat but definitely not a nostril delight!Priti would have ensured there were plenty of floral arrangements.And incense sticks to keep the spirits amused!

27th April was AAKSHYA TRITYA.

A day with auspicious beginnings in these parts would probably be the humblest description.

Thus most lovers would choose just a day like this for their vows.
Anshu probably did just that.

He infact needed to invoke the gods more often than most of us.His early experiences had been such.

Priti,his mother always insisted on the family getting together for the evening invocation to gods.Prakash,her husband and my kid-days pal ,was expected to walk in from his business commitments to join them.
He rarely did.To him defaulting on such commitments to wife were the initiator of a tease-chase that thrilled him no end.

Priti of course did not like this frivolity,or so she feigned.As also the hurry with which he rushed to the bar and steaks whenever he did make it for the prayers!!

I was the one for both of them.The friend of Prakash who was allowed to the prayers.And also the reason that Prakash was allowed his single malt and steak straight post prayers.
Though I knew I was walking a very taut line,but was always surprised that I hardly disturbed the peace in the family that was ever at conflict.

I should know.I was called in to meddle and rescue many a times.

And once I was left passing handkerchiefs to Priti as also wondering where could Prakash vanish in this small town.This particular one was getting a little out of hand.Prakash could not be contacted for over four hrs.

Priti had send for me after she realised that Prakash had not gone to his trading shop from home.Nor was he traceable anywhere else..in-laws house..friend Vijay's place et al.

So she reached me.

But where could he go?And why?

Look D..I am really worried.I think he got more than the normal advice from me today.The worse was that he did not speak at all in return.And no mischievous grin either.He just walked off.And..lest I forget he did not carry his lunch pack too!!

And Priti set off on a wail...

Recovering she suggested...
I will make you some tea meanwhile...Pray think where could he have gone...I hope all is well with him.....

Where could this bum go?I sat on the sofa wandering.

I was startled by Priti's scream from the kitchen.
And a thud-fall followed by a loud shameless laugh.

We had Prakash jumping from the over-cove in the pantry section of the kitchen.A place usually reserved for wasted packing material.

But what was he doing there?

The explanation was easy.

To teach Priti a lesson.I hid here till whenever she went out to find me.She would never have guessed I was here!And while she was out I had fun in the house as also the sandwiches.

But that was being careless.

Leaving them in their embrace I thought probably Prakash had worked to this.
There had to be some way to explain these fights.And love.Both were in a comfortable embrace here!Probably because he liked the momentary pain he wreaked.And the resultant attention Priti gave him when he sought to make up.
Priti too liked the pain she went thru I suspect.As also the warmth and innocent sincerity only Prakash was capable of in his apology thereafter.
Pomfret fried in slow fire and whatever malt is for starts!And Priti and kids would have done the prayers. D better be home by 7 pm today...
Hey I am off to Ambala for work..so keep it tomorrow I protested.
Tomorrow never comes Ahoy! He would insist in his sing-song manner.
So I would join in.May be for the fish which was luscious.Or the company.Prakash always had interesting observations to make.They were always around his trade but rarely did you get to hear him evaluate people.Thus his manner was extremely friendly and his narrations unhurtful.
The day he chose to ride into the club alone was to honour a commitment to Vijay,another friend of his.And not for the malt.Tho' he relished his drink but he never overdid his indulgence.And he blanched off on certain days to make sure his consumption does not get the better of him as a habit.
So it could not be for the drink,as Priti insisted.
You douse yourself here.Why offer such lame excuses?
This is excatly my answer.I do not need to give a lame reason to have a drink at home..and thus I am off to club for a virtuous reason.Vijay is a friend and I do not turn down invitations of friends for silly reasons...or love..or whatever.So I am going.Never mind if you do not wish to dress and join in.
Winters in the city that houses itself in the laps of Himalayas could be treacherously cold.
January 17th,1985 was a very cold day.And an even colder night.The day that followed was draped in misty darkness.
Prakash overstayed the invitation at the club.The malts too were one too many and by the time he decided to return it was 0300 of January 18th.
He knocked for the servant.
No response.
A soft curse and he reluctantly rang the bell.He would wake wake up the kids he worried.
No response.
Priti was awake.She had not slept,worrying over Prakash and their collective destiny.Let him suffer a while.This should sober him.
The bells were replaced by at first strong knocks on the door and thereafter feeble beckons on the timber for a while .Till it faded with the failing night.
The silence of a cold winter night bothers those who listen for sounds.
Priti was not.
She was apparently too fatigued and overcome by the emotions of the experience rather than the wait .After all it was an entire night she had kept a watch on !
She slept the minute the knocks on the door were no more heard.
He probably would sleep in the car,she had imagined.
At 0500 in the morning she decided to allow Prakash in.But was aghast to see him prostate on the doorsteps .
Dead in his own vomit.
Her screams rent the stillness of the night.
They haunt me and all who heard them during the cremation ceremonies thereafter..and till date.
Priti and children transferred to whites and silences in quick time.That bothered and saddened me a great deal.
On the 4th day ritual Priti decided to join Prakash.
She always made her decisions and imposed them on others.Why should we suffer her..is what Prakash used to tell me after one of his many fights.
This one decision was terrible!
Our hearts went to the children orphaned by these events.
But the lord has a lap that is warm and accomodating for all of us.Prakash and Priti were friends to many,and the goodness of humanity prevaded in the care the children received.
Aarti decided to marry early so that her new family would protect and support Anshu in his ambitions.I thought differently but Aarti like her mother made her decisions by herself.
This one seems to have worked!
I have not seen a bigger gathering for a wedding in Chandigarh.Vijay spotted me and was whisking me off to the bar and fish corner.
Let us meet the kids first. I insisted.
The truth was that I no more could get near a fish pan after Prakash left.

I tried but the memories were too many and they always flood in torrents ,if cuddled...and sometimes the memories engaged you for litttle or no immediate reason.

Dreadful to me are winter nights.I have patiently awaited for the brightness that summers would get tomorrow.Summers have come and winters gone.But,alas,the pain of the memory remains and haunts.
I have confidence that there would be a day again.When probably I would chase the trains enroute to Ambala on motorcycle ,like the other day gone by, with Prakash on the pillon.

Dont I smell the familiar jasmine fragrance of an evening in the past when Priti would gesture me to join the evening family prayers.
The lights should be flickering when you make an offering to the almighty D...So do move the offerings tray in a clockwise direction...Like this.... All you guys are the same! ..Would be the admonishments I would get for being so naieve.
I could chase down the parachute of the jet fighter on landing on my bike!! No one believed me..but Prakash.That is why he was special.He believed in all.
And trusted all. But god!I never carried these opinions of his to Priti.For her the life revolved around the puja room.
I know today though that this heart wrenching parting would not be for so long..However powerful the force that perpetuated that havoc that January.
There would be a tomorrow when we all would pray together. And not head for the bar straight thereafter!
For if that tomorrow comes...
Prakash you would not tease and delight in seeing the tears in Priti's eyes...
She has cried enough!
Uncle D..reached Aarti.
I was telling Pranoy that he smiles like my Dad.What do you say?
The grandchild had the same mischievous grin that Prakash constantly wore.
I smiled in response.
I think the tomorrow is here already!!

NORTH BY NORTH PULLU!

The fury of the machines has deconstructed the peace around the Dhaula Kuan clover-shaped flyover.
Delhi Metro has brought in a new character to the city.And I dare attempt...its people!
But painful are the ways of construction.The engineers find the nights probably the best time to venture and ravish all road territory with their fancy toy-designed cranes.
And to guide the motorists are luminous-jacketed,baton swinging traffic wardens.
I was surprised to be waved by one of them on entering Dhaula Kuan flyover enroute my morning retinue.
0500 it was.
A little dark and this warden surprised me to a halt.He emerged from under the umbrella of the lone protected banyan tree around the corner.It is when I reach there that I usually debate whether to go North via Aravalli ridge or take the East route along the Sikh temple at Moti Bagh.
"Can you leave me further down the road"
"Fine.Come in"
He made the decision for me.We went North.He switched off the spiritual music.I did not protest,thinking he wanted to converse.But he did not .Not till he waved me,rather dismissively with a flicker of his fingers to interrupt my vision, to halt at the traffic island.
Here he got down and started walking south.Back into the darkness.
But why?
And so I turned to enquire.There was no one.And in fact no reason for anyone.There is no construction activity at this point.
My bother kept me engaged in thoughts till I reached back at the flyover from where I had branched NORTH.
Just when I was redeciding my directions.I saw the warden re-emerge from under the same banyan tree.
"Can you leave me further down the road".He asked in the earlier innocent tone.
His manner did not suggest he remembered the earlier journey just a little while back.
I slammed the door shut and drove East!
(Last I had a similar experience was with a person wearing a Manchester United jersey and a face mask to protect against the bites of the snow blizzard near Khardung La.
"Go North by North Pullu",he had guided in a scruffy scottish whisper that whistled under the hood.
But that was some adventure of which I shall talk later!!)
But right now I am wondering what must I do at Dhaula Kuan?

Even Leo Can't get a fix on this!

Global Benchmarks in behaviour competencies is at best a fanciful thought.So much as it may make good selling story for products that position around such differentiating offerings,they hardly stand up to robust ,studied scrutiny.
First,the simple reasons why.
Globally our communities are varied and behaviour as response to the environments we grow in is typical to the environs in which mostly our learning,settling years are spent.We do learn on the boil as we grow and adapt behaviours to meet our challenges pronto,but our instinctive behaviour is initiated from our early growings.Our adaptive behaviour merely builds around our early essential way of doing things.
And I dont want to introduce the unending nature vs nurtured debate as another lead in this.Hopefully, I havent done so already!By chance ,for sure,and not design!!
Add to it the complexity of variant behaviours conditioned by multiplexed situations you would have a very complicated thread-ball.To pull out one single defining thread and call it the global benchmark would thus be an awfully complex task.
Impossible by most.
And I guess Leonid Hurwicz too can't get this in one ecosystem of prediction and call it a standard.The variety is so hugely complexed.
Which is the interesting part.
I bother "Leo" might get it if at all.So what?How disinteresting a solution to essentially a romantic challenge.No.No one has done this before.Never mind the claims!!

MUSH LEASHES CHE!

Ceaser is also likely in these un-Roman times.Sprawled all over me and brushing his mane to a peach shine...How dya send for him..."Biscuit"..C'mon Biku(the nick of..).And you may perhaps have them brow a quizzical inverted V at calls like Lennon,Churchill.
And then there is the debated,few say dementic,community address Slumdog Millionnaire.The one who responds to the commonplace Oscar agrees its flattering tho'.
And my footshine...Snoweye is his call...Asterix and the sailor look were my kid faves and he gets titled thus.Shining feet and shins his dot dotes...watch your shin if my foot is unavailable.Where I mostly park in these recession times for my evening belter..this guy calls all of them Sherry,Whiskey..and naming the third one who toes in softly blurpin' is a no-cracker..Soda.
But that goes the same for us too ain't it!!
Mostly.
But we do get called gods and hell be had if you christen them thus.Remember the trouble that half-strapped lass got into for daring to remember her calling thru convenient god namings.She apologised and changed names.The kids didnt mind..its just that they take larger howls to respond..they know their master can bend like them...so she by them is today part of the pack.
But this exclusion of certain class of names is interesting.Mercifully!!.. muses Snoweye.Atleast the performance expectations are not unrealistic.
But how this guy gets to Che...
"Shoot me!!.. you coward..."the last admonish of Che to his tormentors,very much defined Che.
His namesake tho' jealously marks and guards his boundaries in packs.Ever been chased by a pack of less domesticated in streets while whistling on your bike?
Here the master too does so likewise.
And all the tormented at the conclave couldnt shoo...Or leash Mush!!
Umm..

EMOTIONAL BALMS OR TOUCH NUDGES

While reviewing a business case study,a friend spend considerable time labouring to emphasise the relevance of emoting while processing Redundancy Programs in organisations. Agreed there is little merit in arguing against propah behavior!And propah communications is an absolute given in this..
My case is when we color these communications in an emotional dark red hue we mess issues.
Mostly these emotional backclaps are seen by those being laid off as posturing exercises.They hardly address the prime concern of the "parted"... That is when and wherefrom would the next pay checks come from.
And thus this emotional balm actually hurts rather than assuage feelings.
Rather the action has to permeate earlier from a strategically informed and tactically trained deployment of a touch nudge at the right time.So that people get the message and decide and act for themselves..a by far the better option.
We need to empower people to understand the import of the nudges when thus touched.Either as the one sending them on behalf of the management.Or as the unfortunate one who has just been laid off for little reason..
(And there can be no good reason for it .Try asking anyone who has been benched!)
Empowerment to make a smart decisions is the panacea...so that parting happens without a surprise discovery of a hole in the pocket at the wrong joint.Besides the hole in the heart and the chest too.A sharp sudden surgical hack does all of that.
The jars of emotional balm to help heal are seldom enough.
And mostly these wounds dont go,if they have been surgically caused to unprotected,ill equipped bodies!!
Actually the emotional stanzas are heavy at these times.And irrelevant.
Mostly.If not always.
Even with the best dramatists treatise...choreographed with finely tuned playwrighting!!