ENGANGERED

and other stories

Krishand


1 . ENDANGERED


2 PS: Some Simpler Concepts


3. Being Elite In the RAin


ENDANGERED

About 30% of the fresh water that reaches home is used to flush toilets. That’s why he didn’t flush it. He left it unattended. He saved his share of water.
Reading about the environmental impacts that his breed has imposed on nature he evolved into a concerned mammal.
All of a sudden he started attending seminars and symposium on how to save earth. A lot of information was shared. Heavy topics like Global warming, Polar ice caps, Oil eating bacteria, annual rainfall, CFC’s, Poverty,H1N1and Energy conservation were discussed in a 7000 square feet room centrally air conditioned and attended by 17-20 people. The breaks were unbelievably gregarious with oily dishes and boxes of tissue papers with people squatting about their ruthless bosses and the latest movies released.
“A news paper costs a tree.” The chief guest of the meeting had made the audience think. Does tissue paper cost trees as well?
He stared at a chart erected on a metal frame at the centre of the hall. It had a immense data for his underdeveloped, orthodox, typical engineer brain to process.
Every minute 55,757 barrel of petrol is used. (A few days later he brought a cycle.)
Every minute there are 107deaths and 15die from starvation.(He gave up Dominoe’s)

The meeting ended with the chief guest leaving abruptly between heated arguments. A few photographers took snaps of the dignitaries on the stage whispering to each other.

He couldn’t sleep that night. The pictures of scantly clad African kids scavenging amidst war debris for food packets and Rajasthani women traveling 20 km to get fresh water kept reeling in his head. He got up to tighten the leaky tap at the end of the hallway in his ‘1 BHK’ apartment. He switched of his refrigerator. Rain was beating against his window. ‘Huge drops of fresh water’ he thought. Rain water harnessing was a topic of discussion when he was in college. He remembered how is college had a rain water storage tank. (a concrete wall was built around a naturally occurring pond). Rain water should be harnessed. He went to his bathroom and took a green bucket and ran to his terrace. The terrace was slippery and a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky. The next morning he would have harnessed a bucket of water. Fresh. Cool. Yellow, with dust and a particular taste.

He did not press his shirts today. The tie was left numb and lazy, hanging across his neck. ‘Iron boxes, washing machines and vacuum cleaners burn electricity’. Nobody in his office gave a damn about what he wore. He knew that even if he walked in his manager would fire him only for not meeting dead lines and the diplomats in his nearby cubicles would give their daily nodes. He, like any average IT person in India, makes 0.025 $ a minute 300% less than his US counterpart.

The afternoon lunch was totally herbal. He didn’t eat chicken or meat. He drank barely enough water. He didn’t waste food. He looked outside the window at the pale greenery blurred in the midday sun. ‘It must be raining somewhere else in the world’.

A guy in a funny tie handed him a pamphlet as he walked out of his office. “God is watching you”. A pamphlet cost a tree. ‘But god made trees’ he thought. The pamphlet ended with the remark “make ten copies of this pamphlet or the wrath of heaven shall come upon thee”.

He walked into his room and drank a glass of rainwater he had saved earlier. The rest of the bucket was used to flush his toilet. There was an envelope from the bank. ‘Pay the interest on the housing loan at the earliest’. ‘Does Envelops cost trees??’. He switched on the TV. Half a dozen bombings in Pakistan. He didn’t seem perturbed.

The northwest sky turned into an eerie glow. The twilight subsided and he was left in the yellow light of room. The scent of boredom filled the single bedroom. He took out a piece of paper from his notepad. He started writing on it.

‘ I don’t know why I am doing this. I don’t think there is any point in pursuing a meaningless life. No one else is responsible for my death’.

Rain was beating against his window. ‘Huge drops of fresh water’ he thought. He left the note near the table lamp.
Suicide note on a piece of paper …. that’s one tree lesser…


PS: SOME SIMPLER CONCEPTS


Abhinav: What’s the movie this weekend?
Sarath: I guess they are playing some regional movie – Telgu
Abhinav: I guess, I might learn the portions for the test on Monday.
Sarath: Dude….I don’t have any concepts
Abhinav: You don’t?!!!...you better!
Sarath: I have…..but I am not sure
Abhinav: You need to develop it bro,..work on it.


PS: Everyone in the company talks about concept. It’s like spirituality. If you have it it’s good. If you don’t You better develop it.The corporate training is all based on building concepts. It’s funny…that no one really has it but everyone seems to be building it.

Abhinav: Hey did you get the mail about the guy who shot himself?
Sarath: Which one? The one with the brain splattered on the floor or the one with the half a face?
Abhinav: Brain on the floor??!!! I didn’t get that forward!!
Sarath: Its awesome dude. Chill man! Crazy!
Abhinav: Send it to me..bro!!
Sarath: Let me check it I have it. Yep! It’s on its way bro..!


PS: Corporate training is about forwarding forwards(mails) and receiving forwards. Your mailboxes are always full. The topics in the mails areTrivial though sometimes they appear. Occasionally people get serious mails from HR and they find themselves out of the company. Once in a bluemoon mails with indecent exposure makes us realize that we are humans after all.


Abhinav: Hey, I guess he is wearing a ZOD.
Sarath: What is a ZOD?
Abhinav: You don’t know ZOD?
Sarath: I do!! It’s a….
Abhinav: Shirt!
Sarath: Yeah..branded, costly. I went to buy it the other day, but had to be content with Van Heuseun
Abhinav: I have 6 of them
Sarath: You do? I have 2. The other three are Loui..


PS: You are judged by what you wear.(At least what you wear on the outside) If you can get brands-then they are the bests for niche. If you Can get rejects or duplicates which looks exactly like the original, you learn the basics of economic management. Alternate trends need not be followed because they may be non branded.


Sarath: She is gorgeous
Abhinav: Yup…may be 28
Sarath: She ain’t that old…may be 22
Abhinav: I was talking about her waist size, you idiot!!
Sarath: She is 30
Piyush: Yes, she is 30 for sure
Ahinav: see..Sarath: see…
Piyush: see…30.

PS: Gals dress really good. In the first month they start to wear kurta and jeans ( a neo Indian culture presser..?? yet modern outfit). In the second month they start wearing Tshirts and straighten their hair. In the third month T shirts become tighter, jeans show more curves and accent changes. In the fourth month….


Sarath: Hey did you pay the Vodafone bill?
Abhinav: I paid it online
Sarath: Good..I brought a T Shirt online.
Abhinav: You did! I encountered a small problem while transferring money online.
Sarath: Oh, it always happen…friggin Banks.
Abhinav: My ID is kinda blocked.


PS: Everything is done online. You are expected to do everything online. If your computer or flush don’t work, you are supposed to Notify online. If you die..you are supposed to deregister from the intranet and apply log leave. Swipe out is a must. Single swipes wont be accepted.


Piyush: Where is Abhinav?
Sarath: He got fired yesterday!
Piyush: Why?
Sarath: He flunked in a few tests and has low scores.
Piyush: I am glad he took it in the right sense and didn’t commit suicide like that Bengali.
Sarath: Yeah…whats the movie this weekend?
Piyush: I guess they are playing a regional movie-Kannada

PS: No comments.


(all characters are fictional again.)


BEING ELITE IN THE RAIN

Throughout Onam it rained and then it rained again and again. All the portholes filled, manholes overflowed, drainage blocked, shallow ‘bog recovered real estate land’ oozed crimson mud and stray dogs learnt to swim. I couldn’t dry my new sandals, so I quit the idea of going out. The TV was never switched on. The bathroom light flickered with every sudden downpour which seemed to temporarily disrupt the continuous shower. It’s not monsoon. It’s not the mango shower but it was raining chaos on boredom.
Waking up was the toughest part. The rain will squeeze the last drop of sleep out of you. For a moment I was glad that I had no office to report to at 9.30 in the morning. Finally when I get up at noon and the breakfast would be set on the table and no one would be around. The lonely cold coffee cup and the newspaper were set next to it. The tooth paste is almost done.
“its raining again, there might be flood “,
“mmm.. chewing down the stiff rock hard steam cake and the dry curry I would node to my mother.
“any news on the date of joining ?” the question that my numb ears have grown used to. It didn’t bother me anymore
“mmmm…no “ and I chew the gumption down to the deepest chambers of my head.
“ I heard their shares collapsed” she would add salt to burn.
“mmmm..”
“I heard they threw 200 engineers out. Sent them home “. She wouldn’t stop.
“mmmm…..”
“the IT industry has collapsed” she would coil up the last round.
“mmmm..yes”
“Why don’t you search for some other job”
“mmmm…yes”
I leave the dining table in haste. To run to my trench, my room, my only resort.
“Why don’t you go and pay the electricity bill??!”
Act like I didn’t hear it. It’s easy to just pretend that I am busy with something on the PC. Some days I feel like taking a walk in the rain. Feels like it will set me free. Feels like I am in some movie where I just won a war and suddenly it started raining. Feels like I just knocked down a bully and water droplets dispersed in slow motion. Too many movies. I am watching too many movies.
“ sea is rough, its 40 for three ” Lilly aunty dressed in non contrasting colors would bargain fishes with grandma as cats caressed her leg eagerly waiting for a free fish that she would never care or dare to throw at them. The rest of the conversation is irrelevant. The dogs bark at the cats and the bargain is fixed. Grandma and mom talks about the bargain for the rest of the day. Even when they serve it for lunch.
“The rain would stop by Monday, you should wash your clothes on Monday “
Act like I didn’t hear it.

The “brother’s hotel” is always jam-packed. Its small but, then I couldn’t remember a time when it was empty.
“Twelve parotta”
“and……………….” the fat young owner, with lips like a tea cup ,probably one of the brother’s would ask trying to catch every single gesture of doubt and confusion as I make calculations of how much each one at home is going to eat to the net amount available.
“chicken curry…lot of gravy”
“and……………”
“that will be all”, I would shove in a smile to end the conversation.
It was raining heavily and the rain drops on the metal corrugated sheet over the hotel made the place more secure. The power cut made another regular surprise visit and the petromax lamp attracted the flame loving flying suicide squads.
Light, strong and medium tea was served all around me. Strength of the man is directly proportional to the strength of the tea. I remember when I switched from medium to strong. To be honest everything tasted the same except the name and the look that the cook gave .I could wait for the rain to stop and go home after the rain with the parottas cold as the steam cake that I will get the next day morning or I could use my umbrella and walk in the rain and feel like a movie star. I went for the latter. Tough guys don’t care about the rain or terrain. I wouldn’t remember these sentences when I search for my asthma inhaler tomorrow.
It was 7.30pm, the street light and its twin on the road stream shown bright in the rain. I got out of the hotel and stood on the traffic island. I saw a guy run towards me and he took refuge in my umbrella. I knew him. I didn’t know his name. But we used to play together when we were kids. He smiled “what are you doing in the rain ?”
Somehow’ buying a parcel for home makes me not wanting to face anyone. I know they are not going to gorger on my parcel. But then…I don’t know. I just avoid people.
“I came to buy parottas”
I walked him to the hotel and left him under the noisy roof. “How are you ?”
“I am fine. You are tall and you have out on weight,” he replied with interest.
We used to play the great tournaments together. Not thick friends but rival team mates.
The ground was shared by US and THEM. US the elite group of people who studied in English medium schools, who wore shoes and socks, who grew up on bread crumbs of grammar and punctuality, uniform and progress reports and were lucky enough to be born to middle class government officials or local businessmen.
THEM the not so lucky batch ,residing in slums near the channel., who went to government schools by around lunchtime, who didn’t even wear sandals, who grew up on the stale breeze of the channel with their mothers working as servants in households of the elites and their fathers working as daily wage masons or laborers.
The ground will forget all the distinction. All of us would sweat alike and swear alike.
We played against each other and sometimes when the count was not enough we played with each other. Cricket bonded us. Friendship sealed together by the flimsy adhesive of cricket.
“what do you do now ?” he asked.
“ well..i passed my b tech and I am waiting for my call letter” I wish I could say this with a grin.
“oh…engineering. Gud . lucky” he smiled again
I knew now it was my turn to ask “ what do you do now ?”
The answer came in pretty late “ I work for a contractor. I dig wells. We lay the inner rings of the well. “
“ sounds like an interesting job”
“risky”

Then I saw it. . His smile was poignant, miserable. He barely managed to hold up. He looked down his pocket and took out a fistful of hundred rupees notes and kept it back.
“that’s three hundred rupees”
mmmm………”
“ that’s my wage for today. My wage in weeks.”
“mmmm….why ? what’s with the well digging ?” I could ask,
“the rain.. its too risky. The contractor can’t afford to loose a life. The walls might collapse and some one might die. He called off all the works. We haven’t cooked anything in the past five days “
“oh… yeah I know its too risky.” I probably put in a sentence that would make both of us genuinely comfortable.
“Mother went to her sister’s house. At least she could manage one day’s meal.” Now he was sobbing.
“its ok…” I am bad in this department.
“” she came home today. I went out and finally managed to get a work. I dug a well without my contractor’s knowledge somewhere far. It was risky. But someone had already dug three forth and I and my friend completed it. “
“wasn’t it raining ??”
“it was”
I remember telling my friend who worked in an insurance company that I could do any job while he was staring at three men clearing a drainage porthole. His co worker added that “it’s a nice attitude”. But on the second thought, Would I. I don’t know. I don’t think so. I couldn’t be this guy.
“I got four hundred rupees, I went home and there was no firewood, all that we had soaked in this darn friggin rain. So here I am just like you buying parottas” he could smile again.
Now I could remember that I never really talked with this guy when I was young. Thought we were friends. This is probably the first conversation I had. It stirred me. It stirred me more than the economic recession to which I am directly related to.
The parottas were cold now. I didn’t care.
“ let me go and buy my parottas. He was feeling a lot relaxed now. Its like he passed on his grief to me and I am left dry in the rain.
“ should I wait”
“ no you carry on. I need to go to the bar after I am done here. A ‘large’ would help me sleep tight.
“ bye”
“good bye”
The rain didn’t make me feel like a movie star any more. I looked into my wallet. He had three hundred rupees. I didn’t have any. An empty elite wallet…

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 17.03.2010

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