There was a very popular saying those days going around the clerk community that “a clerk’s life commence with a loan and ends up with another loan”.
Many of us, the Office going lot, usually want days flip through fast. This phenomenon starts normally on the tenth of the month, as the stock will be over by that time. Then on an average he look around for a ‘pick pocket’, i.e another term for borrowing from ‘rich’ colleagues. 10th is no such cut off, as many even start it from day one, for reason that the previous months picks have fully been recovered by the ‘rich’. Those who have other means, or miser to the core, live on resources available or as it comes. But I am talking about the ordinary fellow, who is lost before a type-writer for eight hours, with a break for lunch when the art of prying and bitching takes shape and other news such as power, water and DDA. You know, at times the so called misers are a very respectable community, as these lot provide the pick pocket facility. Though bitching is mainly about these people for they do not spent a pie for socialization, they are the ones in deed when in need. .
I do not know what is happening these days, as I am ‘rich’ now and do not wish the days flip by. Type-writer hardly visible. Nostalgia ! Babus have either vanished or still munching ‘mungphalis’, got pot bellied and polluting and counting days for Gratuity, and left over from PF to be ‘rich’. Things, I am certain, have changed. Youngsters are now well off. Though their spending spectrum has widened, they no more look up for a living bank.
I do miss those days, my friends in need, I remember Shri Chokharam, of DPS, my premier bank who use to freely allow me to pick pocket then K S Varghese, who is now settled in Changanassery. He lost his wife and is settled in his Palatial House, all alone, his children away on job elsewhere. C P Jopseph, was another living bank I loot, I have lost contact, for long. He may have settled in his “Manadan” House in Chalakkudy or his Vikaspuri house. There are many more, but for I do not remember, I can not mention their names.
‘Marayya’ came to Delhi when the Vijayawada stock yard closed. He was a Chowkidar at the Delhi Stock Yard of Tata Steel. I remember Marayya with a folding hand, seeking some help for his son be employed in Tata Steel. Satyanarayana joined the Company, as a Chowkidar at the Okhla Stock Yard. A post, his father, Marayya vacated by retirement. Marayya would have been on cloud nine now, as his son – within a span of 15 years – got promoted as Assistant Manager with Tata Steel. A rare achievement for Son of a Watchman. Marayya left the world, a month or two after his son got absorved in Tata Steel. Tata Steel has got four to five generations working for the Company. The Company in turn, look after their folks well. That is why people from Tata Steel proudly say, ‘ I am from TATA’. Like the Indian Army, Tata men truly belong to the Company. Mind you, it is no Corporate – It is Tata Company, always, any doubt, ask any second or third generation Tata men.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Before I forget
Blogging has given me a wonderful note pad to scribble my memories, as memories may fail to support as age goes up.
I owe a lot to two persons for my being in this city of CWG and Asiad, for the past forty years. I will write on those two souls, who are no more in this world. I will also include my friends in 1971, group of job seekers, whose names I have forgotten, but their youthful faces are still clear in my mind. All that later on.
Yes, Delhi was a sleepy – nick named ‘Babu’s city’ in the 70s. The first time it had some awakening was when the Asia 72 exhibition was held in 1972 (The Pragati Maidan was built for that). That was perhaps the first of its kind in Delhi with a gap of many years, or may be I felt it that way being a new Delhi-ite. The year 1971 ended up with the liberation of East Pakistan – renamed ‘Bangladesh’. The war was for 14 days. Those were power cut evenings–in preparation of a bomb attack from Pakistan. The fourteen days were buzzed with the screeching noise of Knat, the Airforce fighter guarding the Delhi skies. The Hindustan Times was full of stories of the advances our Vyjayanthi Tanks made in the Western Sector and the captures our Army made there.
At the end, I remember, the Hindustan Times photograph with General Niazi the Pakistani General with ninety thousand of his troupe surrender before Lt. General Jagatjit Singh Arora, The Turbened Indian General who fought the enemies in East Pakistan and defeated General Niazi. War cemented Mrs. Indira Gandhi’s seat of power and the decline of Congress. The INC (Indian National Congress) had split in 1969 with Freedom Struggle heroes Kamaraj, Nijalingappa, Morarji Desai, K C Abraham et al staying with Official Congress, and IG with artists of sycophancy forming the Congress (I). Of course, the people, as they are, stood with the more glamorous IG team. Some Historians memoired that Bangladesh was an absolute creation for Mrs Gandhi’ for her own sake. I am no historian. Things were becoming bad to worse in the country and Jai Prakash Narain called for a second liberation struggle. People came out wholeheartedly in support of JP and the movement.
The absolute power got shaken. An unnecessary emergency was declared and the Nation was under complete darkness. Thereon it was darkness in the corridors of power, IG, the sycophants and her son Sanjay ruled Delhi like Sultana and Aurangzeb. Fundamental rights were violated by the very people who was to protect them Morarji, Jaiprakash Narain, and all those seemed a threat to her were jailed and tortured. Many were vanished off the scene by all means.
Then India rose up once again. Thanks to our democratic spirit, roots and values, Mrs IG was defeated in her own pet constituency, Rae Bareilly by a lesser known Raj Narain ( He was the comic reliever in the Morarji Desai Government) in the National Elections. Congress was confined to the South, notably Kerala. Thanks to the good deeds and discipline which came with the Emergency in that part of the country. The Jan Sangh also joined hands with the fighters and formed a united Janata Party.
The rebels (so they were called) could not last long, power hungry, Charan Singh, Jagjivan Ram, Chandrasekhar, all together brought the two years old government under Mr. Morarji Desai, (one of the few all clear politicians in the Independent India). The Jansangh portion of the Janata Party also walked out of the Janata Party and formed their BJP. That very formation has disintegrated to regional parties, who horse trade in the centre whenever there is uncertain verdict. They have learned the art of splitting and staying alone.
I am no historian, hence the dates and exactness of the facts may vary. But the essence of the thing is true to the best of my memory. Back to the Bangladesh episode, much hatred were traded between politicians of both nations for their survival. In the recently concluded CWG, Pakistan contingent got the lasting applause after India. That was really heartening. Indians were not welcoming the sports persons from our neighbouring country. We were welcoming our estranged brethren. I felt very good.
I owe a lot to two persons for my being in this city of CWG and Asiad, for the past forty years. I will write on those two souls, who are no more in this world. I will also include my friends in 1971, group of job seekers, whose names I have forgotten, but their youthful faces are still clear in my mind. All that later on.
Yes, Delhi was a sleepy – nick named ‘Babu’s city’ in the 70s. The first time it had some awakening was when the Asia 72 exhibition was held in 1972 (The Pragati Maidan was built for that). That was perhaps the first of its kind in Delhi with a gap of many years, or may be I felt it that way being a new Delhi-ite. The year 1971 ended up with the liberation of East Pakistan – renamed ‘Bangladesh’. The war was for 14 days. Those were power cut evenings–in preparation of a bomb attack from Pakistan. The fourteen days were buzzed with the screeching noise of Knat, the Airforce fighter guarding the Delhi skies. The Hindustan Times was full of stories of the advances our Vyjayanthi Tanks made in the Western Sector and the captures our Army made there.
At the end, I remember, the Hindustan Times photograph with General Niazi the Pakistani General with ninety thousand of his troupe surrender before Lt. General Jagatjit Singh Arora, The Turbened Indian General who fought the enemies in East Pakistan and defeated General Niazi. War cemented Mrs. Indira Gandhi’s seat of power and the decline of Congress. The INC (Indian National Congress) had split in 1969 with Freedom Struggle heroes Kamaraj, Nijalingappa, Morarji Desai, K C Abraham et al staying with Official Congress, and IG with artists of sycophancy forming the Congress (I). Of course, the people, as they are, stood with the more glamorous IG team. Some Historians memoired that Bangladesh was an absolute creation for Mrs Gandhi’ for her own sake. I am no historian. Things were becoming bad to worse in the country and Jai Prakash Narain called for a second liberation struggle. People came out wholeheartedly in support of JP and the movement.
The absolute power got shaken. An unnecessary emergency was declared and the Nation was under complete darkness. Thereon it was darkness in the corridors of power, IG, the sycophants and her son Sanjay ruled Delhi like Sultana and Aurangzeb. Fundamental rights were violated by the very people who was to protect them Morarji, Jaiprakash Narain, and all those seemed a threat to her were jailed and tortured. Many were vanished off the scene by all means.
Then India rose up once again. Thanks to our democratic spirit, roots and values, Mrs IG was defeated in her own pet constituency, Rae Bareilly by a lesser known Raj Narain ( He was the comic reliever in the Morarji Desai Government) in the National Elections. Congress was confined to the South, notably Kerala. Thanks to the good deeds and discipline which came with the Emergency in that part of the country. The Jan Sangh also joined hands with the fighters and formed a united Janata Party.
The rebels (so they were called) could not last long, power hungry, Charan Singh, Jagjivan Ram, Chandrasekhar, all together brought the two years old government under Mr. Morarji Desai, (one of the few all clear politicians in the Independent India). The Jansangh portion of the Janata Party also walked out of the Janata Party and formed their BJP. That very formation has disintegrated to regional parties, who horse trade in the centre whenever there is uncertain verdict. They have learned the art of splitting and staying alone.
I am no historian, hence the dates and exactness of the facts may vary. But the essence of the thing is true to the best of my memory. Back to the Bangladesh episode, much hatred were traded between politicians of both nations for their survival. In the recently concluded CWG, Pakistan contingent got the lasting applause after India. That was really heartening. Indians were not welcoming the sports persons from our neighbouring country. We were welcoming our estranged brethren. I felt very good.
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