Happy Father's Day!

Ask my kids to describe ‘father’, and the answer that you’d get would be something like this:

The father is a person who is mostly away, supposedly working at a place called office. While at home, he is mostly dormant and could be found lying on the lower bunk in the other bedroom. During the last KeYoberfest, he gifted us a bunk bed with the ulterior intention of getting us banished from the Master Bedroom, but in turn got himself banished! Ha ha ha! What a loser. Our father doesn’t snore; he roars. If he is not sleeping, one can find him on the computer playing games or socialising on FB. He is a mood spoiler, for as soon as he returns from work, he fiddles with the TV remote and changes channel to the boring news or cricket. He is also the person who drives us around the city and, using a plastic card pays for all the stuff that we shop. He does play football or basketball with us for some time during the weekends, but fakes to get tired and dozes off on the sofa in the living room. If he is awake, and roaming around the house, one should be vigilant and should constantly monitor his position, for one, you might have to jump in and rescue our mother from whom he might try steal a hug and a kiss, which rightfully belongs to us or even to vamoose away from that vicinity as he dissipates one of his slimy greasy ones. He is most active and animated during Saturday evenings, when he has this usual five hour skype chat with his best friend from across the globe, during which he downs a couple of drinks and display’s to them on camera what our mother has cooked. He then eats his food sitting in front of the computer looking into the webcam and intermittently commenting “Wow, it is tasty…. Wow, it is tasty”.

Ask them to describe ‘mother’ and they’d give you enough feed to write a 1000 page book.

For a child, the mother is everything, starting from bearing them in her tummy to giving them birth to feeding them from her breasts and to attending to their daily needs as they grow up, a mother is always around joined to the child with an imaginary umbilical cord.  She takes them to the park every day, plays with them, cleans their potty and helps them bathe, patiently tutor’s them through their daily homework and bakes their favourite cookies and cakes, whatever hour of the day it may be. A mother understands the kid best. I am sure, if my two and half year old son came to me and asked “vava won oop-oop-oop ba-na-na” I would have no clue of what he is saying, whilst his mother would instantly decipher that the kid wants to eat ‘Upma & Banana’ and although he’d not mentioned it, she’d know that the lad wants sugar too along with it.

Yes, a mother is a kid’s everything, and irrespective of whatever he thinks about himself, a father is just someone who is there somewhere in the background and more often than not, he is a pain in the ass. That’s how kids think, and that’s a fact.

The toddlers hate him because this man is their biggest enemy. He tries getting cosy with their mom and more often than not, fails. Ha ha ha again. Loser! He is a jealous guy and therefore hates kids in general. He slaps their bum and tosses them up in the air trying to intimidate and scare them. The little ones retaliate by defecating on his office bag, peeing on his favourite rocking chair, chewing on his original blackberry leather case and stashing away half eaten pazham poris and fruits in his favourite handmade leather shoes.

As the kids grow up, this man devices new ways to punish them and vent out his vengeance. He cuts allowances and imposes curfew on them resorting to silly excuses stating that he‘d spotted them wasting all the allowance money treating samosas and pani-puri to some silly girls at that unclean kiosk and that, he had found them loitering next to a paan-beedi shop outside that cinema which screened adult movies and then gets angry and deducts further when you question him back as to what exactly was he doing outside that cinema in the first place?

He spoils your meticulously planned outing with friends to watch the latest bollywood flick with his program to visit the planetarium. As you grow adolescent, all that you want to do is to be left alone with your GF in your own private and cosy room so that you can peacefully revise your subjects, but he forcefully drags you on boring visits to his factory shop floor and tries to teach you how a steam loco or a diesel generator works.

A father is also the person who unnecessarily meddles with the kid’s wardrobe and gets fussy if the kid deliberately tears up his jeans at the knees, wears motif bands and faded T shirts bearing pictures or symbols of his favourite rock band. He is always out of fashion and thinks that the only best coiffure that suits a boy is the crew cut.

As the kid grows, the father gets more unpopular, firstly when the lad demands for a motorbike on his sixteenth birthday and when he is denied on the simple pretense that the he has not come of age to own such a thing. Later, although he eventually buys him a bike after a couple of years, he messes up the lad’s life with unnecessary questions like “Where were you the whole night?”, “What have you planned to do with your life?”, “What profession would you like to take up?” and instructing “Now that you are dating, find a job, earn a living and get married” and all the other blah blah blah. Anyways, irrespective of how it reads in print, what the dad intends to say is “This is my house and my rules prevail. If you can’t follow them, get out of my house and fend for your own?”

Mother’s are so cool, they never question the kid. If the kid is stuck in rain, the dad would reprimand him for multiple reasons, firstly for not carrying along an umbrella, secondly for getting wet and then thirdly for spoiling his expensive shoes; a mother would just welcome her kid into her warm embrace, towel him up and curse the clouds for raining on that odd day when her son forgets to carry an umbrella. If ever there was a contest of popularity between parents, I am sure the mothers would win hands down.

Ask any kid, what he thinks about his dad, and most of them would, behind him, in a whispering voice say “Oh! That fussy old fashioned man, he is Hitler’s reincarnation” ask a man and he’d say, “My dad is the world’s greatest dad. He is my hero”

Isn’t it funny that you don’t realize how great a man your own dad is unless you have your own kids and get into the fuss of raising them as responsible social beings?

Suddenly you realize that:

all his life your old man has had only three pairs of shirts and two pairs of trousers, which he used to wear alternatively to work till it faded beyond all recognition and disintegrated while washing, while your mother had a vault full of jewellery and two cupboards full of silk saris from all over India and then for you he got the best cloths, whatever you asked for, which you eventually tore and mutilated to look trendy.

he had only one pair of sweater and a monkey cap, whilst you got new jackets every year and your mother’s suitcase under the bed was full of furred garments and shawls made out of exotic pashmina and embroidered with intricate needlework.

while at home, he was always in that ‘pingg chex’ lungi and that banyan you despised as ‘very country and malluafied’ and that how much you hate yourself now for passing on him that snide look as he sat there in the living room reading his newspaper as you got your trendy friends home.

little did you realize then, that all your hard rock music cassettes, that guitar which you hardly practiced on, those themed birthday parties and expensive gifts to your girlfriends were all funded by this country mallu dad, who sat there reading the newspaper in his ‘pingg mallu lungi’

And finally you realize that, if ever there was a contest of popularity between parents, the dad would lose, not because he wasn’t as good as your mom, but because he would have himself wanted his wife to win. That is what a true father is; He epitomises sacrifice. He is someone, who through his own unique means and style teaches his kids how to live life. Fathers are powerhouses of knowledge and wisdom.

A dad is like that three storied Library building in my alma mater, which had all the best books and which I must confess, I hardly visited. When it was freely available, I didn’t borrow any books, and when I started working, I ran helter skelter from one end to the other of the city checking out all the book stores looking for that one book. I am sure, most of my readers would relate to this. As for me, I didn’t have the library either, as my dad was mostly away working in the KSA.

Although my dad was mostly away, there are innumerable wonderful things that he did for me, some which I capitalized on and the others which I wasted away. Anyways, all of them I’ll never forget, and if I went on to list them all I would end up writing a book. These are just a few, which I can fit in here:

From a very young age I used to write letters to my dad and through his replies he used to encourage and mentor me a lot on my writing skills and it is solely his mentoring and genes that reflect through my pen now.

During his first visit to my college hostel, he got me a thick mattress, thicker than what would’ve been all of my roomies mattresses put together. He ensured that I had more than a good night’s sleep for all the four years that I was there.

In one of my letters I had wrote to him that I was taking part in an intra-collegiate football tournament through a team called ‘Bloody Vampires’ Although our participation was a mere joke and we lost all our matches miserably, he followed up our performance keenly through his letters and finally, through a friend of his, sent me a pair of original adidas football shoes, something that even my college team captain did not have then. He did the best he could, from a place some 3,500kms across the Arabian Sea. I was still a kid, and I failed him by not using it and letting our then college football captain to hijack my boots. My dad was kind. He forgave me.

When I was in the final year at college, he doubled my monthly allowance, just so that I could go around, visit places and enhance myself. Instead, I spent most of it to make phone calls to the Ladies Hostel, organize p* movie nights, buy booze and sleazy adult magazines. I am sure, if he read this blog post today, he’d be upset at me for breaking his trust, but being a great dad, he’d still forgive me.

My Daddy’s vacation breaks used to be around Christmas and every year as he visited, we made it a point to visit our hometown, Kannur. He is the eldest in his extended family and I must mention here, that he is a true dad, not only to me, but to all his siblings and cousins and their kids too. My daddy was not a rich dad, but whenever he visited, he made it a point that he brought gifts for one and all in his extended family. One of his trademark gifts was the exact same shirt and pant pieces that he got for all the kids including me. Come Christmas and we’d all be lined up walking to the CSI Church dressed in uniform. Whilst everyone, including I joked and made fun of his choice to gift the exact same cloth pieces to everyone, we kids failed to see his love and his effort to unite the family hidden behind that gift.  I think that’s how we are when we are immature and childish; we just don’t learn the lesson. I hope that like me, my cousins too realize that sooner than later and at least acknowledge it. My dad is indeed a great dad. Thanks Daddy for all the teachings and the many more to come.

My life is made up of innumerable such experiences gained from my dad and through the many father figures that have been part of my life since my childhood. Some taught me my job, whilst someone else taught me how to survive and excel in a corporate environment.

One such person, who is very close to my heart and whose contribution I will be ever indebted to, is my maternal uncle. I fondly call him ‘Maaman’ and I still remember the days that he took off from work, firstly to buy me a BSA SLR bicycle and then for that all important engineering admission interviews, which eventually landed me at the CREC and which by far was the first instance that changed my life. Later, while I was doing my Masters at CEPT, he fixed me up for summer training with the Indian Oil Corporation’s Project Department, which officially launched my career into Project Management. If it was left to me, I would’ve ended up doing some training with a local builder and by now would’ve been just wasting my life building some nondescript single digit storied buildings in and around Baroda. Thanks Maaman for saving my life.

And while writing a blog on fathers, how could I ever not include my father-in-law and Tara’s Pappa, who guided me through my initial days in the Middle East and watching whom I have learnt some of the best lessons on parenting. Pappa left us for heavenly abode on 19^th July 2007 and continues to guide me and protect our family from all evil. We are blessed to have your graceful shield around us, thanks Pappa. 

Last but not the least, how could I ever forget the guy on whose little shoulders my mother unofficially put the burden of my guardianship after just sharing with him a brief chat of ten odd minutes; my namesake, and my first ever roomie, who, with time grew into a guide and best friend for life. Jacob ‘Jee’ Varghese aka Negu is a father figure not only to me, but to all the CNCians.

He was also the guy who whilst in the final year grew a beard and donned an ochre mundu, which some mates thought he, did symbolically equating the fourth and final year of college life to that of the Sanyasa Ashrama – the fourth and final stage of human life as per the Hindu way of life. One fine day Jee shaved off his beard and disrobed himself off that ochre mundu. I think that was the day when he found his misplaced kit containing his four year old Godrej Shaving Round and the Arial sachet, after which I am sure he must’ve shaved off and eventually put the mundu for washing for first time, which the powerful detergent disintegrated into tatters trying to pull off the dirt.

Jokes apart, he has been a great friend and continues to be my source of weekly dose of enlightenment, entertainment and what not. It’s true, ‘You don’t have to read a book or have to go through the drudgery called life to learn all the right lessons, if you have a good friend who, with you shares all his learnings’ Thank you Jee and Happy Birthday to you today.

This one is dedicated to all the dads. Have a Happy Father’s Day. Enjoy!

Well, just another excuse for the mallu dad to down a couple of drinks! Ahh!!

Operation 'DAD'

THE PARENTS - Part 9/9 – Operation ‘DAD’

His wife Elle opened the door and let him in. Little Vye, who stood next to his mom danced singing “Pappa coming, Pappa coming” as if he were alerting someone.

Jay stood there and turned around, looking if Kay was hiding behind the door, but he was nowhere to be seen. With a guilt laden smile on his face he asked to Kay’s mom “He slept?” to which, she replied “No, he is in the study room. He is waiting for you. He wants to talk to you”

Jay just stood there looking inquisitively at his wife until she pushed him angrily saying “Go there to the study room, he is waiting”

Jay entered the study room slowly with his heart pounding. There he saw Kay on the study table sitting immersed into the property on his desk. As soon as Kay saw his dad come in, he gave out a big smile and called him in, greeting him and calling out cheerfully “Pappa, come ….. come, fast, I want to tell you something”

Jay went and stood there next to his son with a pleading and sorry look on his face waiting for the reprimand to be delivered. The tables had now turned, and Kay’s otherwise ferocious dad now stood there with his chin dropped onto the chest, just like Kay did, two days back. Kay called out his dad again “Don’t stand there back, come two steps front, and look here Pappa. What are you staring at your shoes for? Look here” to which Jay slowly lifted his head.

As Jay lifted his head slowly, his eyes fell on the many little fragments of motley coloured cardboard pieces of various irregular shapes and sizes lying on Kay’s table. As he looked on, his son quickly started arranging the bits into an array like a jigsaw puzzle. Kay was obviously trying to hastily finish it with the intent of showing off his problem solving skills; his dad however, looked on with amazement as the bits fit one into the other and unravelled the pattern that came to life. His heart skipped a beat when his seven year old son finished the puzzle and he deciphered the writing on it. It read ‘V♥U DAD☻’

Jay stood there breathing heavily with his eyes wide open and now turning teary, holding his chin up with his left hand, both to control his amazement and to try holding back his emotions.

Kay explained “You know Pappa, Amma took a white paper and then wrote this and drawed this heart and the smiley face on it, and pasted it on the cardboard and then I coloured it with my colour pencils, and then Amma cutted it with a scissor to make like a puzzle only. Isn’t it cool Pappa”

Jay looked on taking a deep breath and fighting against all odds to hold back his tears. His eyes were now watery and he wanted to tell his lad that “Son it is not drawed and cutted but drew and cut”, but he had a lump in his throat, more than a tear in his eye and a heart pounding with joy. He tried, but he couldn’t speak out a word. He just rolled his hand on this son’s head and blessed him.

Kay continued saying “This is so cool Pappa. Like this, I can make whatever puzzle I want. There is no problem at all and it is easy too. We don’t have to buy anything anytime and waste our money on that. Amma is so cool. Amma just saved the day. No Pappa?”

Jay was speechless. He turned left and looked at his wife, who with moist eyes and a red nose looked on at him smilingly. Next to her, stood little Vye, holding a very rugged and boyish water bottle bearing an overlaying collage of Ben10 aliens and singing “Pappa, see Ben10 na na na”

Jay wanted to spread out his arms and run and jump and laugh out loudly, but he couldn’t. His feet were stuck firmly on the floor and he couldn’t speak out a word. He just looked on at his wife pointing his index finger at her, thanking her for orchestrating his best gift ever as he bit his lips to control his emotions. She closed her eyes for a moment and acknowledged him and little droplets of tears rolled on to her cheeks.

Jay gave the Kinder Joy eggs to his boys, who thanked him, hugged and kissed him in return for the treats.

Without saying a word, Jay walked straight to the Master Bedroom, where he locked himself and got into the shower without undressing. Under the shower, he cried profusely thanking God for bestowing on him this beautiful life changing day.  

Father and Son

THE PARENTS - Part 8/? – Father and Son

As he drove out from the car park at the Villagio Mall, Jay, who by now had enough of head banging, switched from Hard Rock, to something mellower, Urdu Ghazals.

He drove the car slowly, in the rightmost lane humming alongside Fareeda Khannam’s silken rendition of Obaidullah Aleem’s beautiful poetry ‘Kuch ishq tha kuch majboori thi’ as his boss’s last words of advice ringed repeatedly in his ears, ‘If you make a mistake, you pay the price’

Although he wanted that his son would forgive him, he didn’t entirely believe that there was even an inkling of a possibility in that event occurring. He himself had not forgiven his dad for not buying him that gift some thirty years back. Although it was Thirty years since that event had occurred, and although his own mother clarified his dad’s position and stance many times he had neither forgotten it, nor forgiven his own dad to date.

His dad, who worked as a clerk for a small nondescript firm in the diamond city of Surat toiled hard to support and rear their family of four. His salary was meagre and five days each week he moonlighted just so that they could pay off their house rent. Life was never easy, but his dad had worked hard to make it comfortable for them.

Through the year, the parents would cut expenses and drop the savings into their piggy bank made out of an old Farex tin. They started doing this when Jay was just one year old, and continued it ever since. At the end of each month, Jay and his elder sister May, would reach out to the box, shake it and try to estimate its value. They would then contemplate how much money their parents had saved and as to what they could expect to get as gifts the ensuing Christmas.

That year, they had visitors. Jay’s paternal uncle and his family of five had visited them for the Easter and they had stayed on for a whole week. His dad, who was the elder of the two, had to undoubtedly fund their stay and also buy parting gifts for the guests, which included dresses for the three kids, a readymade polyester T Shirt for his little brother and a chiffon Garden sari for his sister in law. Obviously, it was just April and they had not saved enough and Jay’s dad had to take a loan of Three Hundred Rupees from a friend at his workplace, which he repaid bit by bit every month.

That year, he and his sister didn’t expect much as the piggy bank was very light and made a lot of noise when shaken. May suggested that all that she might get this year were a pair of new ribbons and maybe Jay would get cotton banyan, that’s it, nothing else, and that this year Jay should not expect anything more and he had reconciled to that.

Jay’s dad was evidently struggling, trying hard to make ends meet pedalling his Hero Cycle from one end of the city to the other in the scorching sun and then moonlighting by the end of the day. He believed that a promotion at work would change things for their family. If he became the Personal Secretary to the main boss, Mr. Desai he could get some more leverage in the company and also display his inherent talent of writing crisp and clear letters in English.  The current Personal Secretary was a Goan lady, who had to resign as she was getting married by end of November and this was the best time for Jay’s Dad to trawl his net and grab that job.

It was October, and Jay’s dad as usual expected to get his annual Diwali bonus of Seventy Five Rupees.  Once he got it, he used a part of it to repay off the remaining loan and with the remainder of whatever was available in their piggy bank, brought a box of Assorted Dry Fruit Sweets and a Fancy yellow coloured Battery Operated Car, which played the song “mere pass aao” sung by Amitabh Bachchan from the just released movie Mr. Natwarlal.

His dad was a typical family man, who believed that within the family, all happiness and sorrows should be shared equally. After he got these two items, Jay’s dad, opened the boxes and showed it to everyone in the family and explained them as to why he had got it. Jay’s dad knew that Mr. Desai loved his only son very much and so, was planning to woo him by gifting him the sweets and a car toy to his son this Diwali. And, it was only to end Jay’s repeated imploring that his dad had opened the Car toy and did a trial run of it. Later Jay’s parents wrapped in the gifts, and along with it, a letter that his dad wrote in very flowery English wishing his Boss and family Happy Diwali. They then placed the gifts on top of the Godrej Cupboard in their single room apartment.

Through the evening, Jay was visibly upset that his dad had got such a wonderful gift for a boy whom he hadn’t even met and nothing for his only son. Jay didn’t sleep that night. He kept himself awake staring over the cupboard as streaks of light emanating from the zero watt bulb in their bathroom lit up the bright and shiny gift wrapping atop the cupboard, throwing out a beautiful array of sparkles on the ceiling and the adjacent walls.

Next day was Diwali day, and being vacation time, Jay woke up late, only to find that the gift was missing. His dad had himself taken the gifts to his Boss’s house. When he came back, Jay’s dad was beaming with happiness and said that his Boss and family had treated him well, and that they served him Campa Cola and the best Namkeens, Barfis and Pedas that money could buy and that after the meet, he was very optimistic about the outcome.

At home Jay’s dad promised everyone “Starting December everything would be alright” Jay had only one request, he wanted his dad to get him that same toy car, to which his dad promised “I will buy you that son, for Christmas, for sure”

Jay was overjoyed. That day, in the evening as he played with his friends in the street, he proclaimed to everyone that his dad was getting him a fancy battery operated car, which sang like Amitabh Bachchan. All his friends were jealous.

Life went on, and Jay’s dad stopped his part time job. He borrowed a stenography book from his friend and utilized the evenings to learn and master shorthand.

Every day as dad came back from office, Jay’s mother would ask, “Any news” and his dad would respond back “Just wait for a few days, it will happen….. it will happen”

One day, during the first week of December that year, Jay’s dad returned from work sooner than usual. He had a worried and tired look on his face and when Jay’s mother enquired, he pushed her down onto the floor. He later hugged her and cried profusely. That day, Jay’s father had just learnt that the Personal Secretary’s job was awarded to the Goan lady’s cousin and that there was no way that he could aspire for that. The Diwali gift of sweets and toy had gone in vain.

Later, May explained to Jay that this event meant that they wouldn’t get any gifts this year. Jay was sad and turned averse to his dad. That day he took all his old and broken toys to the nearby pond and flung them into the water. He didn’t want any toys anymore.

During the ensuing week, his dad, who was looking for a new and better job attended many interviews and eventually got selected for a Secretary’s position in Libya.  He packed his bags and within a week, flew off, well before Christmas, stealing away whatever room there was available for reconciliation. That was by far the gloomiest Christmas they ever had.

Their life changed after Jay’s dad, moved to Libya and he eventually got a remote controlled car with blinking lights when his dad visited them on his first vacation two years later. But for Jay, that fateful Christmas of 1980 still remained etched in his memory forever and he had not forgiven his dad till date for that.

Jay always believed that his dad’s going away to Libya had to do less with making money and more with actually running away from him that Christmas. And the price he paid for his dad’s going away was immense. He so dearly missed a father figure, who’d hold his hand and take him through his difficult times as an adolescent boy.

As Jay drove his car slowly on the last lane of the Al Waab Street, he cursed himself for being so unkind and cruel to his dad. His dad had sacrificed all his pleasures and worked hard toiling in the Libyan Desert, just to earn a livelihood beyond his means so that his kids back home could have a better future and more than just a gift every Christmas. Jay’s heart was heavy with guilt. And he banged the dashboard as he whispered “Dad, you did a great job” and “I am sorry dad, forgive me”

Realization had struck Jay in the form of his own son, in whose eyes, in the coming few minutes, he would fail miserably. He feared that the same story would repeat, because Kay was his true copy, both in looks and behaviour.

Jay finally reached his apartment block, but feared to climb up and confront his kids. He parked his car in front of the building, reclined the seat and just waited there listening to Ghulam Ali, waiting for it to be 9:30PM, the time by which Kay would go to bed.

At exactly 9:15PM he got a call on his car’s Bluetooth. It was his wife Elle and she enquired “Where are you Jay?” to which he replied “I….. I am….. I am reaching in a moment. I was looking all over the place for the Puzzle thing. It’s out of stock. Don’t know what to do. But I am on the way, I am coming back”

She responded sternly “Come soon, it’s time for Kay to go to bed and he wants to talk to you before that. Make it fast”

Jay replied “Okay” and Elle hung the phone.

As the call ended, Jay slowly manoeuvred his car to the porch and climbed the stairs. He was in no hurry. He stopped by at each floor, reading the various notices that were posted there and finally after some twenty odd minutes reached their third floor apartment.

He was scared to ring the bell, and so stood there with his arms folded, chin dropped and eyes staring the threshold. As he stood there, his mallu neighbour walked by asking “What happened, no one to open the door?”

Jay replied “No, no, no, they are there” and was forced to press the calling bell.

As soon as he pressed the bell, he heard his lads screaming from inside, “Yeyy, Pappa came, Pappa came”

Jay stood there with his body shivering and his heart beating rapidly.

********

PS:   This isn’t the last part! J

       I am someone who likes attention and here’s asking you guys to wait for one more day  thinking about the confrontation.

        Jay has finally rung the calling bell and exactly after 24hrs on this very same web page, you’ll find the bonus part; part 9/9, which reveals as to what exactly happened after the door opened.

Dad's Challenge

THE PARENTS - Part 7/8 – Dad’s Challenge

Jay spent the next one hour recovering from the jolt that he had so deservingly received and thinking, devising a plan to ameliorate him out of what he had become. Somehow, he was not feeling hungry and he trashed his lunch. At exactly 5:30PM, he shut off his laptop, packed his bag and proceeded to the City Centre Mall. The unexpected call from his seven year old lad had worked wonders for him after what he had been through during the second half of his day at work, and he was now more then obliged to buy him that Colouring Puzzle.

It was always almost near to impossible for him to find a parking at the mall, but today he had managed one instantly as he entered the parking. He was happy at finding one and he mumbled “It’s my day today”. He parked his car and jumped out, with a big beaming smile on his face. He rushed straight to the escalator, running over the steps. All he wanted was to go there, grab a box of the Colouring Puzzle, drive back home, gift it to his boys and give them a bonus hug and a kiss to top it up.

He entered the Carrefour Hypermarket and headed straight to the stationeries section looking for the Colouring Puzzle. He couldn’t find one and he ran around frantically looking for it amongst the sketch books and note pads. He couldn’t find one. He then called out the Sinhalese attendant who walked around lazily wearing a blue ‘May I help you’ T Shirt and enquired about the Colouring Puzzle. The attendant looked lost and started looking for the thing as if he had heard that name for the first time in his life. He squatted down and searched inside the lower shelves, and when he didn’t find any, simply stood up and said “Ser, it ees knot their hea! (It is not there here!)”

Jay was getting tense again and with popped up eyes reprimanded the attendant saying “How do you say that? Aren’t you working here? You are supposed to know where the things are kept”

The attendant scratched his head and called out a Filipina guy with a white shirt and black tie, who looked like his Boss and whispered something into his ear. The Filipina guy came next to Jay and said “Sori saa, mae bb pinis, ttry Lemak moa (Sorry sir, maybe it’s finished, try Landmark Mall)”

Jay stood there akimbo and bore a look of disbelief on his face. He then took a step back and ran his right hand over his face trying to relax his facial muscles, closed his eyes let out a sigh and ran out of the hypermarket.

His next destination was the Carrefour at the Landmark Mall and would require him to drive down some nine odd kilometres. 

He turned on some serious hard rock on his car stereo and drew adrenalin from it to finish off the otherwise fifteen odd minutes drive in just seven. A few speeding cameras flashed in the way, but he didn’t give a damn about it. Reaching the Landmark Mall was possibly the easiest of tasks for the day; the tougher job was getting into it. The road leading into the mall was chock-a-block with local lads honking, talking aloud and proclaiming their phone numbers loudly looking to charm local lassies on their way.

As he waited in the car to get the traffic cleared, he called up home and it was his wife Elle who picked up the phone.

He told her “Elle, it’s out of stock. It’s not there in the City Centre. Is it okay? Can you convince him that I couldn’t get it?”

To which she replied “Oh! Don’t say that”

Jay enquired inquisitively “Why? Is he adamant? Is he waiting? Did he mention that he’s waiting for it?”

Elle replied “Yes, waiting”

“Shucks! In that case, there’s no respite, I guess. I am waiting outside Landmark for the traffic to clear and hope to get it here. If not, I don’t know, what I can do”

Elle replied back “Please try” hearing which Jay hung his phone and waited mumbling expletives at the locals.

After some twenty odd minutes of grumbling, Jay finally got into the mall parking. He parked his car and ran straight into the mall, looking for the Carrefour.

He reached the Hypermarket and looked frantically for the Colouring Puzzle in the stationeries section. There was none. He then dashed straight to the Hypermarket management office, and enquired if they had any piece, maybe in their warehouse, to which the Frenchman working there replied “If izz ee no tdhe in ze stoa, izz no tdhe (If it’s not there in the store, it’s not there in the warehouse too)”

But all was not lost. He still had some chance, and he was then directed to proceed to their branch at the Villagio Mall. “Ye sure fine izz zer. Good Luck! (You should surely find it there. Good Luck)” said the Frenchman and Jay pushed off to the next mall, some thirteen kilometres away.

Jay rushed to his car and sped away, but got stuck in the returning traffic and reached the mall after a half an hour drive. His heart was pounding and he was drained and feeling tired. He had absolutely no hope of finding the Colouring Puzzle here. He walked lazily into the mall and then to the Carrefour, where as expected he didn’t find the thing that he was looking for.

He walked slowly dragging himself and stopped by at the beverages section, where he picked a small bottle of chilled rose milk and gulped the whole of it in one go. He stood there between the aisles, with his eyes closed and head facing the sky above as the chilled drink ran down his throat and cooled his burning tummy and tired eyes.

As he stood there, in that position, relishing his drink, he felt a warm hand on his left shoulder and a very English voice which said “Buddy are your meditating?”

It was his Boss, Dean. Jay opened his eyes, turned around and said “No Boss, I was tired, just wanted to have a drink”

“So, is this the place where you do your daily yoga or you here for some shopping too?” asked Dean, to which Jay replied “O yeah. I was looking for something for my elder son”

“And did you find it?” Boss asked.

“No, I didn’t” said Jay with a heartbroken look on his face and continued “I looked all over, from City Centre to Landmark to Villagio, but couldn’t find it. It’s out of stock”

Dean asked “What is it? Maybe you could try the Geant or some other Hypermarket, maybe Lulu?”

Jay replied “Oh no Boss. We had seen it two days back at the City Centre, but then I didn’t buy it for him. My mistake”

“Why didn’t you buy it then? Were you short of money? Is it so expensive?” asked Dean

“No, it is only nineteen riyals. I didn’t buy it then. During the weekend I had given him a task, which he accomplished well and this was supposed to be his reward. He is waiting for it at home. I don’t know what I’ll do now” Jay replied as his voice broke and eyes moistened.

Dean put his right hand on Jay’s left shoulder and tried comforting him and said “You are his dad and you are a man. Be strong buddy. I have always seen you cruise through easily when confronted with the most difficult situations at work. Deal with it like that, with the same spirit man”

Jay replied “Yeah, but this is personal”

“I know this is personal and I know that lad too. Isn’t he the same guy who graduated from Kindergarten last year?”

Jay nodded suggesting that it was the same guy.

Dean continued “He is a great guy. I am sure he will understand. Just tell him that it’s out of stock. He should understand that”

“I hope so” replied Jay

Dean was Jay’s boss, and there was no way that he would close the conversation without giving him a piece of advice and so he added “So Jay, there’s an important lesson learnt here, and I hope that you minute it in your Life Diary” He then paused for a second and continued “It goes like this ‘If you make a mistake, you pay the price’ and mind you, these are not my words. These were told by our local client to the guy who worked at your position before you joined us”

Jay lifted his head and gave a fake, made up smile and Dean responded saying “Cheers”

They shook hands and Dean left the place, leaving Jay to deal with his problems on his own.

Jay picked two Kinder Joy eggs, paid up at the billing counter and walked slowly to the parking lot gazing around and window shopping his way.

Meanwhile, Dad

THE PARENTS - Part 6/8 – Meanwhile, Dad.

Jay reached office at 2:15PM and was late for an important meeting. As he entered the meeting room and apologised for being late, the other attendees made bad faces as if they had smelt rotten fish. Within five minutes, both the seats adjacent to him were empty. They had moved on to other chairs far away from him.

After the meeting ended, Jay’s Boss, Dean, a prominent sexagenarian engineer and a distinguished and widely travelled Scotsman, who had just found home in Bali with his newest twenty three year old Indonesian wife, summoned him. Jay entered his boss’s cabin and they greeted each other. As Jay sat down on the discussion table, his boss locked the door, and for a moment they kept looking at each other and smiling. His boss then hesitantly broke ice and started talking.

He asked Jay how life was treating him, and Jay responded by saying “Great!”

After a brief discussion on the routine works, the Boss asked Jay if he had sensed some stench around him, to which Jay responded by saying “Well it must be the smell of those hundred day old eggs and half cooked fish that these Asian girls bring to office” He paused for a second and then continued “Ahh, Boss, today these girls celebrated some event and I suspect they got that Durian fruit. It smells like dry shit, I must say”

“No Jay, it’s not the smell of Asian food” his Boss intervened.

“Oh Boss! I know….. it must be the gamey smell of that New Zealand Mutton that these Arabs like to have. It’s bad. Today, Areef had got mutton Kebabs from the Al Boostah Restaurant. And I must say, when he farted it smelt awful” Jay replied

Dean let out a laugh and clarified “No Jay, it’s not the smell of anyone’s food or even farting” to which Jay replied “Then, what it could be Boss? I think we have to investigate further. Today morning as I started my station, the Office Boy sprayed in room freshener. I guess the smell must be coming from some cube adjacent to mine or maybe from the false ceiling. Maybe some rat or lizard is dead up there. Let me check it out through the facilities guy. I’ll let you know”

Jay’s Boss looked on thinking if this fellow was really so dumb or was he acting just smart and avoiding the subject, when Jay continued “Or, maybe is it that sewage truck pumping out sewage or is it some pipe leaking….. Ahh, many possibilities”

Jay’s Boss had enough of it. He interjected with an intention to cut short the speculations “Jay, it’s your body odour. I think you have to change your soap”

Jay, who was taken by shock, argued “My soap? Boss, I bathe with OK soap, which is prominent brand in India. And they say in Hindi ‘Jo Ok saabun se nahaye, kamal sa khil jaaye (Bathe using OK soap, you’ll blossom like a lotus)’ There’s no way that my soap smells bad. It has a nice lotus scent”

Jay’s Boss replied “O yes! When I was young, I have worked in India, in a place called Munger, in Bihar, we built a bridge across the Ganges and this soap was quite popular amongst the labourers. But son, it’s not good for this place. For the Middle Eastern climates you require something stronger and masculine, and maybe in your case, even a strong deodorant or antiperspirant”

Jay continued listening with a dumbfound look as his Boss spoke “Back home we have brands like Colliers and Man Go, which are pretty strong and good for those who slog it out in the sun, but these are not available here. You know Jay, I still remember the day when I interviewed you. And you’d said that you were a site man. And you had used an Indian word for that…ahhhh…. What was it? Yes ‘pucca’! Yes, you’d said that you were a ‘pucca’ site man and that you believed that all the work and action took place at the site, and said that you never really fancied office work, and believed that paper work was actually a waste of time”

Jay continued listening with that same dumbfound look as his Boss talked “You know Jay, few days back, someone from the HR came in and asked me to talk to you. She felt that you always reported late to work and that you usually took extended lunch breaks. But I always had firm faith and belief in you and I must say I had just got a feedback from our clients, which said that they were more than happy with your work, so it was hard to believe that you were a slacker. I immediately called for your Time Sheets and proved to her that you were in, always well before seven. These HR people are just silly goose heads. They never go to the site so they never know how people are slogging out there. Now they know that you always come on time and that your first priority is a site visit, which you have been dedicatedly and religiously performing for the first couple of hours each day. You are good Jay, but you know too much of visiting site and exposing yourself to this hot and humid climate can leave you perspiring and smelly. That’s why you need a good deodorant or antiperspirant to cover it up”

Jay’s face turned pale and dull. His heart was beating rapidly and his blood pressure was rising. He slumped in the chair and in a broken tone; he muttered “Okay Boss, I’ll do something” and got up to leave.

His Boss stood up, shook Jay’s hand and said “You are doing great Jay. Well, that’s on the work front, but you have to keep in mind that a little bit of grooming helps. You are Delcroft’s face for the Client and the many contractors’ who work on this project and I hope you understand and take my advice constructively. Keep up the good work Jay.”  Delcroft is the company where Jay worked as a Construction Superintendent.

Jay got up and walked to his cube. He was tense and feeling sick.

Once at his cube, he raised his arm and smelled his right armpit and he got the biggest blow of his life so far. The feeling was analogous to someone unloading a bucketful of liquid ammonia right on his face. In the jiffy that followed, he tripped on his toe and fell down hitting his elbow. As he fell down, his colleagues from the adjacent cubes rushed in. Areef helped him to get up and posited him on his chair. He even offered to call the ambulance or drop him back home, if Jay wanted, while his Asian peer, whom he despised because she ate stinky half cooked fish, got him water, rubbed his palms and made him a nice cup of green tea. He was ashamed and disgusted of himself.

After his peers left his cube, he buried his head in had hands and sank into himself as realization dawned. He was feeling low and wanted to kill himself, for cheating his employer, which had built so much faith on him and his colleagues about whom he had harboured negative feelings. He sat there for a long time still, not realizing that his phone was ringing. After some ten odd rings, Areef came in from the next cube and tapped him saying “Ey Zay, yarr bone ring ring, Habibi you okey? Any brroblem? Shore? (Hey Jay, your phone’s ringing. Are you okay mate? Are you sure?)”

Jay removed his head from his hand, looked at Areef and lifted the phone.  It read ‘Home Calling’. He smiled at Areef and gave him a thumb’s up sign indicating that “All was well”. Areef left, and Jay picked the call. It was his son Kay and this is how their conversation went about:

Kay asked “How are you Pappa? Are you busy?”

He replied “I am okay son”

Kay continued “Okay Pappa. You know today Amma made a new cookie jar and I helped her”.

He replied “Okay, Good”

Then Kay asked “I am a good boy no Pappa?”

“Yes you are” Jay replied in a tired voice

In his usual innocent style, Kay asked “Did you buyed the Colouring Puzzle?” to which Jay let out a smile and said “It is not buyed Kay. We say bring, buy or brought. There is no word buyed”

Correcting himself, Kay then asked “Ok Pappa. Did you buy it?”

“No I didn’t. I shall do that on my way back from the office” said Jay.

“Okay Good Pappa. You are my hero. I know you can save the day like Ben10”

That brought a little cheer onto Jay’s tired eyes and he smiled. He was recovering and replied “Thank you Kay”

Kay then enquired, “Okay Pappa, what time will you come home?”

“I’ll be there before seven” replied Jay

“What is the time now, Pappa?” his son enquired, to which he replied “I think it is around half past four”

Finally Kay instructed “Okay Pappa. Don’t forget to bring the Puzzle, Okay”

“Okay Kay I will not” Jay confirmed

“Thank you Pappa. You are a Super Hero. You are strong like Hulk and no one can ever kill you. You can do the Hulk smash and save the day” said Kay, which infused more life into his dad.

“Thank you Kay” he said and disconnected the phone with a big happy smile on his face.