The Price of Honesty

Sometimes I wonder, if it’s worth all the trouble.

I did not write yesterday (or is it type). I was too exhausted and overwhelmed by the events that took place yesterday. That was the day when my pleasant relations left for their respective destinations. Oh I love my relatives so when they are far away, but I can’t exactly say, I miss them so.

Thus after having cleaned up my whole house today and while relishing the joys of solitary existence I contemplated upon what happened, yesterday evening.

My father upon the instructions of my mother handed over to a laundry, a rather precious cape made up of the very expensive Pashmina Wool, for dry cleaning. Upon its arrival back, my mother was aghast to see its desecrated form. Not only did it appear to have lost its sheen, but also had all the color had spread across the fabric denigrating what was once a masterpiece of Kashmiri Artistry.

Enraged by this hideous malpractice of the Laundryman, I along with my brothers in arms- Varun, Nachiket and his brother in arm Harshad accosted the laundry owners son and apprised him of the fact that if he would refuse to pay me 8K’s – the present day price of the Cape, then I would be forced to take him to court and write about him in the News papers. The chap seemed visibly shaken and informed us that only his father who would be available on the morning of the coming Wednesday settle this matter out.

Today I sat and thought. I thought weather I would be paid the damages, weather taking the rascal to court would help me. Weather 8K’s are worth all the trouble.

I’ve been wronged, why should I have to take all the trouble to get it right? Why should I spend my precious time, energy, efforts and resources in the pursuit of something that could possibly have been a mistake on the part of the laundryman? It was a cape after all. Do I really need to press this on? Can’t I just let it go?

If I let go I’d be doing my conscience wrong. If I fight then I’d have to suffer anyway. Is this the price I pay for being honest? Upon introspection, I realized that I do have to pay a price for being honest, for standing up for what I believe in. Nothing, absolutely nothing can be achieved without paying a price for it.

The price I pay for being honest goes a long way in me getting the respect I deserve for being a man of standing, in front of my own eyes.

Ouch!

What I feared the most has finally happened. My ground breaking prophecies have materialized. There’s no ambiguity any more. It’s official. I’m down with influenza.

The reprehensible scum of the human influenza virus that I had so far successfully evaded has finally got the better of me. Sometimes I wonder – actually I wonder, only when I’m sick- ‘how can a tiny micro-organism, which does not know for sure if it’s alive or dead make me feel so miserable.

The answer to this question lies in the analysis of the psychology of the virus. One of the universally accepted phenomenon of contracting flu is that of infection.

Over here, I now intend to draw an analogy between sick people and viruses. Try, living along with a sick person and you will soon end up becoming sick too (if you are not sick in the first place). This is true, in both the literal and the metaphorical sense. Well not actually, literally speaking you can possibly develop a certain amount of resistance to the disease, but if your companion is a sick person (metaphorically) you’ve had it!

The virus is a grouchy, isolated and a sick creature. Ask a woman who’s given birth to a single one, and she’ll tell you how troublesome it can be. A virus replicates hundreds of times in a minute. That’s like giving birth to a hundred babies in a minute. No wonder the virus a grouch. Moreover, all these viral babies don’t care a damn about their mother and immediately go about giving more babies. This makes the mama virus real mad.

Nobody likes a virus. It’s got no identity. No one cares for a virus, not even other viruses. It’s not their fault actually. It’s hard to differentiate one virus from another, so even the very few ones that have got a heart of gold – I’m not sure that they’ve got a heart in the first place – know not who to care for.

So it’s all crystal clear now. Just as staying with a sick (metaphorically) person makes you sick, if a sick creature like a virus enters your system and staying within you for at least a week, has to make you feel miserable.

Ahem ahem.....

Went to Varun's yesterday evening to see him sipping hot coffee. I wondered why the hell was he drinking Hot Coffee (literally fuming). Now, personally I have no objections to a man consuming a drink of his preference. But there were two singular points which particularly struck me as unusual (I've been Reading Sherlock Holmes lately).

The first one being That Why should a person with a BMI which would even give inexperienced pleasures to Obese Sumo wrestlers (Sumo’s are quite corpulent, and when I say Obese sumo wrestlers – Now that’s saying something)- be drinking hot fluids in the middle of summer?

And secondly, what source of inspiration could possibly extol my beloved and most lethargic friend to shed his inhibitions to go into the Kitchen and prepare a cuppa coffee?

But such queries are easily resolved. After investigating the matter in hand, I was informed by the concerned party that it was nobody else but his own mother who had forced upon him to conduct such a despicable act. Not keeping well, she had INSTRUCTED him to prepare for her the hot drink to soothe her ailing throat, and after having prepared the aforesaid for his maternal love – now left for her dispensary – he was consuming the unruly remnants of the same (thus procrastinating the likelihood of his having to prepare something to soothe his ever demanding gastric functions).

After having realized the fact that his mother was ill, a new perspective was drawn upon me. Suddenly I realized that all the people around me were falling ill. First my Prof’s elder son, then my aunt, my cousin and then me. Everyone is down with flu or similar aliments.

It is quite well known that the human race as such is sick, but analogies apart this is getting on literally. My personal opinion is that a certain group of viruses have decided to carry out a mass attack on the residents of Bombay who have of late being enjoying the fruits of capitalism.

Being down with a fever has its own pros and cons. For instance you feel miserable all day and sweat like a hog while simultaneously shivering. How this takes place I’ve never been able to fathom.

Then there are numerous relatives, family members and neighbors who bombard you with numerous suggestions to get well fast and ask you questions like, ‘Are you feeling all right?’ or ‘How did you contract flu?’ I mean how dumb can people be? I’m lying down on my bed like a cadaver; I definitely can’t be fine can I? And if I knew where from people get sick, I’d would most certainly try all I could to avoid all the trouble, wouldn’t I?
Then people ask you to eat all sorts of foodstuffs at a time when even the best Caviar would taste like recycled paper soaked in water, while themselves consuming the best of foods making you feel like an outcast – not that they don’t make me feel like an outcast otherwise.

The good part is that if the word gets around, your friends-who would otherwise be more difficult to meet than the President of India- pay you visits or call you up and try to cheer you. This makes you feel good (condition applicable only if you have pretty female friends-and you are a straight male).

The other benefit is that with nothing else to do, you end up becoming philosophical and write disgustingly long blogs like these.

No Work is all Pain

I celebrated my B'day a few days ago. As if getting older ain't painful enough (there are some who say ' age brings wisdom- but I'd personally prefer getting wise while staying young) I am now being surrounded with hoardes of relatives coming from all parts of the known World - this is an exaggeration, I've no relatives in Anartica- to wish me on my B'day.

Most of these well wishers after having enjoyed the pleasures of my hospitality leave as fast as their means can carry to their Home Grounds. Yet there are others, more persistant and close to the heart types who would not consider a visit a visit if they dont enjoy my company for a few days at least if not a week.

The fact is that I actually like these old bloods of mine (the young ones are smarter-They don't stay). These people really know how to enjoy life. They are Great to talk to and are full of interesting anecdotes and stories (although I'd personally would not like to bank on the Validity of all of their revelations).

But no matter how much you love your relations, a dozen extras staying in your house in BOMBAY, all at one time is definitely hard on a gentelman (as I am one). So as the saying goes ' When the going gets tough, the tough get going' , I muster all my resources and get going to my workplace at IIT B where I'm carrying out some research in Organic Synthesis.

Of late I've observed that-unusually for a lazy chap like me-I rub upto 16hrs in the lab and my performance has increased drastically. And all the odious fumes in my lab smell to me like the perfumes of Arabia (not to be confused with McBeth). At least I've my work and my lab! Whereas on the home front, not only have I lost my privacy and my possessions but also my voice and along with it my self esteem. I don't even need to walk into my house, I get pushed around. This reminds me of the time I spent at a military training camp a few yesrs ago. It was hell, but then I had company and after 8pm even the Camp Sgt. would be merciful. Expect no such mercy from my relatives. A terrible homefront can make miracles at your workplace that would make Houdini look like an amatuer. Some wise guy said that behind every successful man is a woman and now I know why.

Ma Cheri called me yesterday to voice herself on my blog. She is a charming girl and a nice one too and I enjoy her company. But she feels I unnecessarily flatter her and write naughty things on my blogs. That's so untrue.

Of late things haven't exactly been going my way. There's influenza in the air and even though I've been mercifully spared of the big trouble, I can't say I'm in good health. That's why I've decided to stay home for the day- why should Kapil be the only one who gets to stay home all the time? But now my defences are at an all time low, no back up and no escape route. I will have to bear all the brunt of the offensive of the hostiles all alone on my home ground. But as some poet with political affiliations said;

For all your days prepare,

and meet them ever alike;

When you're the anvil suffer,

when you're the hammer Strike.

I have decided to bravely face agony and wait for a favorable moment, when I can seek the pleasures of the hospitality of my tormentors and give back to them, what they are giving me right now.

Cheerio.....

Resolving a Dilemma

Life can be so unfair at times. Sometimes I wonder why does it always have to be me? But most of the time I hardly care. Well, life can be hard on you. But if it ain't hard then its hardly life.

Actually Life as such does not bother me as much as these dilemma's do. Dilemma's come to me as easily as paragliding to a Deep Sea Angler Fish. But when it does turn up once in a blue moon day (if there is something called as the Blue Moon -I dunno where these idioms come from?) then it sticks on harder than something I can possibly imagine (and I can imagine a lot).

I have realised that every dilemma is an entity and has a personality of its own. Some are harsh, some persitant, some peculiar, some sweet, some painful; but most of them are the 'time will sort out' or 'let it be' or 'I can't help it' types.

Out of these the last ones are those that plague me more than what The Black Death did to Europe in the middle Ages (at least people then would worry, suffer and die). It is the helplessness of the situation that troubles me so much.

The other day I met Kapil at his place. He was down with CP. Poor Fellow, I'd never thought the CP could bog down someones SPIRITS to such an extent. I wished him good health and whilst leaving his Apartment met Toral, who I had not seen for a long time. We talked for long. She's a sweet girl- as sweet as girls can possibly be- she actually listened to all I had to say. She's also pretty, but thats secondary.

I have had the pleasure of interacting with quite a few charming (and also intellectual) Dames who unfortunately end up being older to me. This has its own pros and cons.

The good part is that you can go around with them, date them and have fun without any commitments. The male counterpart does not want to settle down and the female who is older to the male wants to get steady with someone willing to go along with her.

The sad part is that there are no commitments.

Nevertheless, its suits both the parties involved and it suits me well - at least for the timebeing - and even if it does not, What the hell am I going to do about it?