Animal Farm

While driving to work from home in the morning, the radio was  playing an all-time favourite song by Kishore…mere saamne wali khidki mein ek chaand ka tukra rehta hai…instinctively I looked out of my car ki saamne wali khidki and lo what do I see….a minivan laden with chickens. There were chickens of all sizes and shapes but inevitably they all looked alike…sad and low. As I passed the van I found the driver merrily moving his head from one side to another. Surely the man must have been enjoying another exciting number on the FM radio. As I drove the last 2 kilometers, felt bad for the chicks in the van. What a miserable life they have. From the time they are born, the creator knows the end game. The chick is fed, some things good and not so good, made to look healthy then one day carried off to a trader who lets his foster parents make ends meet.

Then it struck me. Am I any different from the chicks inside? They with their red plumes on their heads and me with my Zodiac tie hanging down my neck!  Just that they were in an open minivan with grills to prevent them from flying away and me in my air-conditioned car with doors and windows locked down, with responsibilities of home and work preventing me from flying away into a world I love. The chicken driven away meets her fate sooner than me while I keep driving this burdensome car of life day in and out not knowing what fate awaits me at the next turn. While Kishore was yodeling on the radio, I felt like making a sound cock-a-doodle-doo!

Depressed was I as I entered the office early in the morning only to be greeted by a short and dark lady who in the early morning shift cleaned up the place every day. When I saw her smiling so beautifully at me, as she does almost every day, I realized how wrong I was to feel low despite my being so much more fortunate than the little lady before me. I quickly changed my mood and decided I will be happy no matter what the situation was. So I promptly went to my workstation to begin a lively new day.

One of the first mails I saw was an organizational announcement saying they had added another portfolio to my already heavy and diverse one. Hmmmm…let my boss come. I shall refuse to be the meek chicken anymore. An hour later the boss walks in and goes into his glass cabin. I walked into his room and said,” I need to change my business cards. I want to write below my name Hanuman!”

The poor fellow on the other side almost puked out the water in his mouth when he heard my request. With great respect and dignity he asked me to sit down and tell him the cause of anguish of a quiet good chap. And so I explained.

Tell me Boss, in Ramayana Sita was the wife of Lord Ram. When she was kidnapped by Ravan why did Hanuman have to go to Ashoka Vatika to meet Sita and later agree for his tail to be set on fire. Who puts his tail on fire for someone else’s wife? No one but Hanuman will. 

Tell me more Boss, the only time Lord Ram’s brother took to fighting a man was when he fought Meghnadh or Indrajit and in the fight our man almost lost his life. Again, it needed someone to go to get the  Sanjeevani  buti.  Who do you call? Hanuman, of course, for he brings not only the medicinal herb but whole of the mountain as well. 

Tell me finally, Hanuman and his folks could have lived happily in the forests. Yet in the final war against Ravan, Hanuman first made his people build a setu (bridge) across the sea and then fought shoulder to shoulder with Lord Ram and also lost many of his brethren. Who else would take such risks, but Hanuman? 

In short, whenever Ram was in problem he needed Hanuman. Similarly, whenever this organization needed to get out of trouble, they made me take the plunge. You give me all roles where others had failed in the past and lost their jobs. You keep adding to my work and make me do much beyond a single man’s ability so I consider myself a Hanuman. So please approve my new business card with the new designation even if it sounds funny and outlandish. Saying this I left my Lord Ram very confused and bemused. 

I felt relaxed having spewed my venom before my boss, now it was time to get back to normal work. And as luck would have it a big proposal came our way and I got engrossed in planning how to win the same. 

I suddenly developed stripes and became a tiger on a prowl. Having seen my prey, I started measuring the distance, calculating my speed versus that of the prey and laid a trap all around…this was going to be my lucky day. My gait changed, my looks became sparky and there was a roar in my voice as I made my move. For every problem I had an answer, for every situation the client and the broker pushed, I was a step ahead of them and seemed to enjoy the challenge. The tiger was hungry, the tiger was sure and the tiger wanted to prove his powers and made a dash. The tiger forgot there were other hunters in the forest and just as he made the final leap, a pack of wolves had made their killer move and took the prey away. The tiger was angry but was helpless before the wolves who outnumbered him. The tiger accepted his fate and turned back into his pin stripe suit and drove back home. 

After an exhausting day and a tedious drive, I reached home. Rang the bell and entered home, my sweet home. Then suddenly a barrage of questions was thrown at me:

Did you get the prints I sent you?

Did you pay the bills I reminded you about?

Oh you didn’t eat the lunch I made for you this morning…why had a working lunch at a five star?

Why would anyone want to come home early with young beautiful girls hanging around?

 The gait became unsure, the baritone voice suddenly seemed to have left my side and the tail went between my wobbly legs. India’s tiger population just got reduced by one as the big striped cat became a small domesticated cat. Forget the tiger, save me!

All this in a day’s time.

SS