Saturday, May 29, 2010


(Continued from the last post On The Tail Of A Tailor)

Considering Param's personal history, I was at my wit's end when he appeared at my doorstep wearing a woe-begone face not with my shirt but with a request to use my(non-existent) clout with the President of a local Co-operative Society (a man as straight as a die and very antithesis of nepotism). He wanted me to secure a clerk's job at the for his daughter who had justpassed the B. Com degree with colours that were anything but flying.

Fear Of The Blouse

Fearful of the horrendous things Param could do to my shirt if I antagonised him, I meekly obliged by phoning up the Society's president with the entreary. True to his percieved image, the president tactfully ducked my supplication, stopping short of asking me to go and jump into the nearest lake. As a crest-fallen Param left, his eyes betrayed a firm determination to stitch me a tight fitting blouse(on which I could only wear a saree) that could per se have my humour club audience in stitches. I shuddered at the prospect of becoming a butt of jokes for the hoi-polloi.

Yet, on the eve of the D-day, Param re-appeared at my doorsteps and delivered, belying all my apprehentions, a well tailored shirt. He was cock-a-hoop about his daughter's appointment at the Society. And with a child-like exuberance, he narratedhow his friend Venky helped his daughter clinch the clerk's post. Then Param departed, chirpily humming the opening bars of 'Dum Dum Diga Diga.'

Venky And The Tigress

To set the record straight, I must reveal that Venky was a office attendant at the co-operative society in question with a reputation for clinging to people like a leech to achieve his ends. "If you want the tigress's milk, ask Venky, " was the common refrain heard on the Society's corridors.

Knowing Venky myself personally, I could well visualise a harassed tigress, confronted by an insistent hustler like Venky, lying supine asking him to squeeze out as much milk as he wanted just to see his back. The President of the Society was, after all, an ordinary human like you and me.

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