Chokkalingam 3.0

Hi! I mean Woof woof!

I write this at a time when all things Chinese are being universally condemned, thanks to the latest Chinese import, the Corona Virus. Being a Chinese import myself, my heart bleeds for my adopted country as it fights tooth and nail, every citizen turning into soldiers (Some voluntarily, some prodded by the Govt and some thanks to the Punjab ka naqsha being drawn on the cheeks of those who violated the lockdown orders, welcome!) Not to forget the health workers, security personnel and the humble hygiene workers from the municipal corporation armed with a good word, sanitizers, masks, pots, pans, thali, gaali and some such apparatus. Never have I prayed more for the victory of my adopted country over the country of my origin. (That I am being called an anti-national by the folks at the Communist Party Of China is nothing but a case of collateral damage which I take with a mouthful of meat-jerky. Also I have a special message for the Idiots at the helm of affairs at WHO and the ‘intellectuals’ and ‘journalists’ in the payrolls of those who swear by Yuan, don’t let me find your dicky between my jaws! Death by Chinese Virus would be a welcome alternative you would imagine, I promise!)

Having laid the atmosphere for this note, let me jump right into the story. One of the unfortunate byproducts of the Wuhan Virus pandemic is what is being described as WFH. WORK FROM HOME I am told. For the uninitiated, what this high sounding acronym means is that everyone in the family, The Home maker, The Foreword Writer, the Dilli -ki-chhori who is now a Hyderabad-ki-potti and most importantly the Credit Card Dude do what I do all the time. Stay at home! Pretend to work. Eat and sleep. To say that a huge hue and cry was being made out of what was just a routine for me was pretty over the top if you ask me. I mean big deal. That is what I thought………! Let me explain why. (For those who came in late, here is the note on the characters mentioned above just to help you settle in Welcome!)

My work schedule essentially was written in stone. Early morning I had an appointment with “Sappadu”. Post which the routine was I visited my regular spot under the master bed, below the stool in the balcony, under the reading table in the living room, near the mostly unused kennel and my favourite spot, the right side of the comfortable sofa. The duration spent on these locations varied depending on when I was woken up by the sheer decibel levels of my own snoring! Another appointment with ‘Sappadu” in the evening and a repeat of my travel arrangements later, the world called it a day. Pretty neat if you ask me. This neat arrangement was too good to last. It didn’t! WFH hit it hard. AND HOW!

The house suddenly started to resemble a war zone. A rudimentary calm of a day or two later (Explained pretty lucidly here by the Credit Card Dude, Welcome again!), the intensity of the Mahabharat increased in its crescendo. The Peace and calm of my life lay blown to smithereens. I have heard people says that a dude called Aristotle said that Man is a social animal. Thou Art Wrong Monsieur Aristotle! Man is an animal! All the ‘Social’ goes out of the window if you make a man do what we Animalkind  do as a routine. I could have still put up with the disruption caused by the ‘social’ kind referred to by Shri Aristotleji but for one major catastrophe. The Credit Card dude, already on his wits end due to the forced inactivity he was being subjected to, took over my favourite spot, the right side of the comfortable sofa!. Sacrilege! Cruelty! Where are the bloody dudes from Peta? Will they only fight for my rights during Diwali when no amount of firecrackers can match the decibel levels of my snoring?  Or will they actually protect me when my right to the right side of the comfortable sofa is snatched without as much as a gentlemanly ‘May I please?” Imagine! Being denied to you what is yours by birthright! Ok! Not birthright but just like those dudes from Bangladesh who are Indian Citizen because they happen to be here. Mamata Didi! Where are you? Are Chinese any lesser being than Deshis?

RIGHT SIDE OF THE COMFORTABLE SOFA UNDER FOREIGN OCCUPATION!

No amount of licking, loving, cajoling, woof-woofing had the desired effect. The Credit Card Dude wouldn’t budge. Gradually the Home Maker, The Foreword Writer and the Hyderabad ki potti also gave up on me. Just like our ‘intellectuals’ and ‘journalists’ who had moved on from Shaheen Bagh to #JantaCurfew won’t work, the three above mentioned characters also moved over to their fight for the remote control, leaving me licking my wounds and nursing my heavy heart.

Finally I did what this family in Coimbatore has been doing ever since the lockdown, pray. Pray like no other family has done. Pray that India sends Corona packing. Like RIGHT NOW! So that everybody can, especially the Credit Card Dude goes back to WFO! WORK FROM OFFICE! And I can go back to THE RIGHT SIDE OF THE COMFORTABLE SOFA! WOOF WOOF TILL THEN!

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PS: Please click on the Welcome and Welcome again words in the copy above. They contain the links to the Episode 1 and 2 of my story. (By Woof! One has to explain everything to you)

Glossary:

Sappadu : Food in Tamizh
Punjab Ka Naqsha: Literal - Map of Punjab. Figurative : Slap of the face.

UFO? No! It's WFO!

Those who have been following my escapades written on these pages know that I am one of those perennially absent from home Father/Husband etc. Belonging to that unique tribe called Salesmen, the days that we sleep in our own bedroom, eat on our own dining table and ………. in our own washrooms is a rarity. Suffices to say that as my Better Half puts it often and succinctly “ The guest has arrived”! That my work profile is such that even on the days I am ‘home’, I leave for office early and return back late makes the few ‘Off days’ worth a treasure in their weight!

Such ‘arrivals’ are often warmly welcomed in the family circles of us salesmen. The Better Half dishes out your favourite delicacy for BF/Lunch/Dinner. The Junior insisting we go out for BF/Lunch/Dinner is promptly shut down with a “Poor Pappa! He seldom gets to eat ‘home’ food. Lets us not deny him the ‘good’ food till he is @ home”. (‘Good food’ is strictly in reference to the culinary skills of Your’s Truly’s Better Half and not generally about one-size-fits-all type generalizing. Those who are not as blessed as me can simply edit out the ‘Good’ and make do with just ‘home’ in the food. Welcome!)
Junior of course melts you with an innocent but not so apt ‘”When are you leaving Pappa?” the moment you have landed your back gently on the sofa. (Out of sheer happiness and to help him chalk out an itinerary/programme for the days Pappa is going to be @ home. Welcome again!) Then there is Chokkalingam who simply floors you with a chest bump and doesn’t leave you till he has licked clean every pore in your tired body. (For those who came in late, introducing Chokkalingam! Welcome yet again!)

Chokkalingam for you!

This was a routine which has been written in stone from time immemorial as I believe the expression is. Month-in-month-out as another expression goes. Year-in-year-out as yet another expression educates us. This as one more expression goes, the last I would be quoting for sometime to come I promise, was too good to last. It didn't. The disruptor came from China. And How! Before we could even gather our wits, the routine lay in shambles. The expressions quoted above blown to smithereens! The unwanted Chinese atithi was Corona Virus. Among other things it introduced to us Paindoo/Pattikkadu types the acronym, WFH! WORK FROM HOME for the uninitiated. Not to be confused with the more universally popular WT……you get the drift I am sure. Till now strictly restricted to the domains of the EMTs in Information Technology and Software Coolies industry, WFH made its presence felt in Salesmanland, from Kashmir to Kanniyakumari and from Kutch to Kohima as we Saleu types often say.

Day 1 of the WFH went pretty well I must concede. The ‘Pappa’s favourite food- When are you leaving- Chokkalingam in full form’ played out as usual. Except for the family outing because all the Hotspots (?) in Coimbatore was locked out.

Day 2 of the WFH was even better. Self took the onus upon himself to dish out the breakfast for the family. (Better for the self. However the jury is still out for the rest of the family.) The Didi-of-the house who till the other day was Dilli ki chhori and in her latest avtaar as a Hyderabad ki Potti decided to try her latest experiments by whipping up Andhra style Pasta for dinner. ( For those looking askance, Andhra style Pasta is nothing but the pasta that you cook with the normal recipe and then sprinkle it with half a kg of the reddest, hottest Guntur Chillie powder. Post the ceremonial consumption of the concoction, the slogan in the family circles goes thus: If Corona doesn't get you, the Andhra style pasta must!)

Day 3 of the WFH is when the seams started to fray. To say the day went like the 1st inning Mohammad Shami would be an understatement. The lady of the house decided that the day should be spent cleaning up the house and everyone must participate in the drill. By the time the exercise was over, Junior thought his math class was a better option, the Potti felt the 2 AM conference calls were easier to mange and yours truly thought achieving the annual target in a month was an eminently suitable alternative.

Day 4 of the WFH is when the war broke out. The regular duel for the remote turned into a battle with more warring groups in attendance. The decision on the menu saw scenario where even the Speaker shouting “Baith jaiye, Baith Jaiye” that would have quietened out Parliament failed to cut much ice. The constant reminders to ‘wash your hands’ falling to deaf ears. An argument on a small lie spoken 23 years ago by Yours Truly threatened to escalate to a nuclear flashpoint. We were witnessing an act of Social Distancing that Modiji’s speech writer would not have imagined. The clapping and clanging of bells replaced by missiles flying in every direction.

At the time of going to the press, Nobody is praying more earnestly than this one family in Coimbatore which wants Carona sent packing. Pronto. Like RIGHT NOW! So that life could resume at its normal self. Like how it has always been. They all want, self included, to WFO. WORK FROM OFFICE!!!!!!!!

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PS: A Lil bit of dramatic license is permitted while writing the script of the period films as they say in Bollywood circles!


Glossary:

Atithi: Guest
Paindoo/Pattikkadu : Villager type (Slur)
EMT: English Medium Types
Saleu: Colloquial Bengali/Hindi for Salesmen
Dilli ki Chhori : Girl From Delhi
Hyderabad ki potti: Girl from Hyderabad
Baith Jaiye: Sit down!