Newspaper Nuisance.

Reading a fresh print-news paper is a pleasure.

The smell, crisp paper between fingers, perfect fold between sheets, turning to the subsequent pages, in sequence, is a blessing in itself. But the blessing comes with a rider, if you travel by train (or) a long distance bus.

Straightening the edges and folding the paper to that page is an art. This type of a reader is a paper folding (or) origami expert. 

Wait... Wait; there is another type of an expert who can fold the paper column wise even when a gale is blowing around him. 

Yes you guessed right, both the types never travel, even for a short distance, without the news paper!

There are others (Ying balanced by Yang), who take immense pleasure in reading the news paper brought by someone else. Not that this type of reader can ill afford to buy his own, but has belief that someone else will always bring one. 

This way he gets to enjoy more than one daily paper. In the bargain he also saves a little change.

You will certainly meet such characters in any air-conditioned chair car of any inter-city train. A careful observation, will reveal that “you buy I read” type is restricted to the He-man category of passengers only. 

Our womankind does not indulge (or) entertain this habit. A noble principle, the other gender can emulate!

Having watched this “You buy I read types” (YBIR) from close quarters, you may have come to the following conclusions, in general. 

They will, walk any distance to go to, a salon (or) a consulting room (or) a tea stall if they subscriber to news papers and magazines. 

Alternatively, this could be the reason why the above places buy news papers and magazines, to hold on to the clientele or may be to compile statistics and pass on to the circulation mangers to reduce the number of copies printed.

Imagine such a type of passenger occupying the next seat next to you - you have a guaranteed, memorable journey in store. In addition, if, you are an origami expert, then experience a cultural shock and surging blood pressure.

The modus operandi begins like this: You open the Newspaper, he gets interested in it. When you turn to the second page, he will just show a mild displeasure. 

When you turn to the 3rd page, becomes restless as he is yet to complete the 2nd page.  At this point, he will turn towards you and give you a look and mildly snort like an impatient Bull – implying what is the hurry?  

You fold the news paper to read the centre page, he starts to fidget, pulls up his collar, flexes his fingers with loud crackling sounds and snorts like an aggressive bull. 

This body language resembles that of an aggressive batsman, in a T-20 match, taking guard to tackle fast bowlers!

If you can borrow Lord Shiva’s 3rd eye for a moment, you can actually see a pair of horns rising from the sides of his head. 

If lucky, you might even get a glimpse of pawing, with his non-existent hoofs, the floor of the compartment -indicating a bull readying for a showdown. 

On the other hand if he beats you to it, you will vaporise on the spot!

Beware! He is passing down a message “you can as well give me some pages, and try to manage with the rest”.  

A Hobson’s choice (or) a Shakespearean dilemma.  “To be or not to be” (to be patient or impatient)! A point of no return is now reached. A weak matador (you) surrenders and parts with his newspaper - in part or full.

A strong matador confronts the Bull with a scorching look and continues with his reading. A clever and strong matador has his own doosras and theesras to let stump the Bull – he simply reads his paper upside down! 

The miffed Bull hesitates, retreats and withdraws from the engagement. He wearily, eyes another greener pasture. Here the law of averages caught on with him.

Spotting a vacant seat and a gentleman with a folded newspaper, he decided to migrate to the greener pasture. Nonchalantly, dangling his arms by his sides, he started walking in the aisle way.

For unknown reasons, the speeding train came to a screeching halt. The forward momentum made the bull to lurch and stumble. Loosing balance, his fore head hit the edge of an aisle seat.

Co-passengers helped him to regain balance. YBIR man was in intense pain and gingerly ran his fingers over his forehead, to feel the cause of the throbbing pain 

When he turned around, the passengers had a darshan of Shiva’s third eye – albeit a sightless one! A marble sized bump had neatly formed, at the centre of his fore head – sans the eye lids and iris.

If you are not geared up for this sort of experience, better read the news paper at home (or) practise reading it upside down. 

This will insulate you and keep your blood pressure within limits.

A stray thought just occurred in the mind of Bystander:

Railways can ask the newspaper publishers to distribute complimentary copies to Chair car passengers at every station. 

In turn, the newspaper publishers can request Railways to share the cost fifty-fifty!

Bystander wondered whether the Bull will collect all the free issues and sell them to make a little on the side lines, as travelling allowance!

Ails of Aisle seat.

Even with fewer luggages, the rail journey, in a chair car, will not be a comfortable one. Co-passengers may not be aware of this age old adage of the Railways and board the train thinking it as the last “Ark of Noah”.

Unfortunately, the Railways have not come up with any restriction on the size & weight of the luggage accompanying a passenger. Even if, some restriction is enforced, the intelligent passenger will co-opt other passengers to beat the weight rule.

This leaves out the size of the luggage, as the Railways being a Terra fir-ma transport, has not contemplated regulations in lines with air travel – volumetric & weight specifications for cabin & “hold” luggage. We are aware that the air lines charge excess baggage, as a deterrent!

The absence of such a regulation results in ….  Please read further.

The luggage pieces brought in by the passenger, sport an airline’s stickers to proudly announce their just landed status. May be they are glad to breathe air-conditioned air, a relief from the stifling transcontinental flight, in the aircraft's’ belly.

The passenger bringing in such a luggage himself gets carried away by the feeling that he has just flown in. How many actually hold on to the security tag, for a false sense of superiority, is something that we would not ponder about today

The struggle to maneuver the pieces through the narrow door, drag it in the aisle way and stow it on the over head rack, if successful, is tougher than a ballet dance (or) an Olympic gymnastic event. All through these exercises, the owner of the luggage gives a damn for the inconveniences caused to fellow travellers.

At the door he will hold other travellers from getting inside, while trying to squeeze the tightly packed luggage, broad side. It never will occur to him to take the piece sideways – a logical move!

Once inside the compartment, he will start a visual survey to find a suitable spot for setting down his precious luggage. Passengers who managed to get in will stay blocked as long as this gentleman is satisfied with the luggage placing arrangement.

On the way, he will target the body parts of the aisle seat occupants. Eye glasses get dislodged, noses are smashed, shoulders are crushed and toes are scrapped.

The inconvenience caused by this sort of out-sized luggage pieces, on the aisle seated, is to be experienced to be believed. It increases as the train stops at intermediate stations, taking in more passengers & more heavy luggage’s. Absence of the tell tale stickers makes one wonder if the man and his baggage are in a “ready to fly” status.

These aisle passengers get a firsthand experience on force, weight and impact – a physics class on wheels!

The aggravation increases if the maneuvers are carried out when the train is on the move and the lugger shoulders a free–to- dangle bag. He exempts none of the aisle seaters.

After these exercises - if he does not find a suitable place (or) the luggage does not fit in to the rack – he simply leaves it in the aisle. All the time, it will be left a little away from his seat such that he can maintain a visual contact with it throughout the journey.

By the time he settles down, the train will reach another stop and one more passenger will enact the episode one more time (or is it an encore?).

You pray that the coach gets filled only with point to point travellers. If inevitable at least let it get filled with in two or three scheduled stops.

Wait. This is not the happy end. There are others to torment the aisle seaters – passengers using the aisle as thoroughfare to move from one compartment to another, the interminable procession of catering staffs from pantry car, the unauthorised vendors en-training /de-training at will.

The catering staffs deserve a special mention over the unauthorised ones. The catering staff will rest the plastic tray of eatable on the back rest of the nearest aisle seat. He does not ask for permission nor can be told to set the tray elsewhere.

In dispensing eatables, with chutney or sauce, some liquid may spill on your shirt and pant. He tenders an apology and a paper towel. The picture that flashes in your mind will be one when you ducked bird droppings from heaven – being alert and taking the best evasive action possible is the only solution.

You are right in concluding that the inventor of the vestibule is the root cause of all these troubles – aisle being used as thoroughfare and pantry car becoming part of the vestibule train.

Being observant, nothing of this sort escapes Bystander’s attention. He already carries a grudge on the Railways and its’ passengers. On the spur of that moment, his agitated mind framed the following suggestions for the Railway Authorities. .

The Railways should come up with standard size for the luggage – (1) Aisle width- 3” (or) (2) door width-3” with a conditional clause “whichever is less”. Alternatively change the size of the over head rack and ban keeping luggage's in the Aisle. To take matter in hand, the Railways can attach a mini luggage van for each Chair Car and on chargeable basis. This will add to the revenue too!

He suddenly remembered his school teacher saying that “every theorem has a rider” This put the fear of the Railway authorities in him.

What if..What if?  He shuddered to think what will happen if, in their over reach, the said Authorities decide to levy a “comfort surcharge” exclusively on aisle seat passengers?

Bystander started to think about alternate strategies. If you have any, please contact him.

The Onion strikes back !

The bulb makes you to lachrymate, in all seasons, for various reasons. Dressing it up for cooking or bringing it up from the market – you cry.

Conditioned taste buds demand seasoning of food with onions, as otherwise the taste is ‘woody’. To satisfy these taste buds, someone has to peel, snip the tuft on top and hive off the dried roots on the rounded bottom of the onion bulb.

The onion bulb comes in many shapes and may have a single or multiple bulb lets. It is a class apart – asexual in vegetative propagation, ardhanareeswar in veggies kingdom.

That is why; it does not show a gender bias. It has to be brought to the market in well ventilated, jute suits.

If not handled carefully, onions go bad and you have a hell of a task on hand in segregating them from the ones that might go bad! At this point it is the trader who cries.

Take heart! The onion’s wrath is not selective, as neither chef nor farmer is spared. The former cries on a bumper crop or over an inundated field, at harvest time. The latter, chopping it for dressing or cooking.

The process of cutting onions for use is done with a surgeon’s precision and a knife as sharp as his scalpel. Too shallow, the malady survives and too deep the patient suffers – therefore you got to be careful with your dear onions.

After conveniently positioning it on the cutting board, the vivisection starts – parting and chopping. All the while, the onion is not taking it lying down – it rebels.

Lachrymal and nasal glands are sympathetically excited to produce tears and a running nose – as if to mark its demise.

This twin attack might remind you of a soldier facing gun shots from two different directions. They rest not before extracting their obituaries, in instalments!

Finally, it is time for you to wreak your revenge – by boiling or deep frying the chopped onions, a fitting and tearful farewell.

The ordeals undergone & obituaries to be written are electives. The first choice falls on the home maker or on the willing assistants.

In the worst case, there is no option given here, the owner of the craving taste buds gets the mantle – to peel, snip, cut and chop with or without crying & sneezing!

The onion is a contended species, willing to spare the limelight space with heavy weight s like gold and feather weights like tomato.

Media and agitated parliamentarians discuss the onion crisis – stagnation, shortage and soaring commodity prices.

Though tomato might get to share the limelight with onion – the onion has the last laugh. It is the only vegetable that is capable of making you cry while buying as well as just before use in the kitchen! Telemarketers will not help.

 If allowed to go unchecked, this crisis has the potential to vote-out an incumbent government or at least to manage and find space in election manifesto.

It does not even spare men, who work away from their houses, depending on hotel-wallahs for food. These men shed more tears for onions, than while chopping them in the kitchen.

Onion containing dishes cost more or the men are advised to bring the needed onions, by themselves – a “you -bring-I-cook” syndrome.

The pity is that nobody has come up with a dried and ready to use onion powder like the 2-minute noodles. Are our botanists, not contemplating to genetically modify the onions?

They can solve two problems:
Avoid the tearful ceremonies in the kitchens. Make the shoots to grow drooping towards the ground or parallel to the ground. This may bring down the artificial & seasonal fluctuations in onion’s price.

A Nobel thought:  Only the biologists can help to wipe off the onion tears. Genetically modify it - to yield crop in 100 days, to survive even under submerged conditions with out going bad, to make it grow in all types of soils and if possible to remove the tear causing chemical substance from the onions.

Even if this mega GE project achieves only a partial success, at least the tear part would be removed from the eyes of the users!

The onion has immortalized itself in life and death - many dishes like French fired onions, French onion soup, Indian raita, onion vada, onion dosa etc;

In addition it has a great but a simple philosophy to teach.

Keep on peeling the layered skin; you are left with nothing (regional languages have such flavoured sayings).
 
If you cause suffering to some one, you will either be boiled or fried.
 
If you let your taste buds rule, you will end up crying and sneezing.
 
Governments are elected basis onion prices. (Isn’t this true for Delhi elections?)

Tears or no tears, tear into the succulent onion – my fellow brave hearts!

Mongrel in the hall.

The students suffer, if a dry subject is handled by an unimaginative lecturer. A witty lecture will thaw out even a frozen subject.

Further complication arises, when one of the unimaginative lecturers himself had authored the prescribed text-book also.

This episode occurred decades ago .The hapless victims were Muser and a class of thirty five students. The driest & frozen subjects were handled by unimaginative lecturers.

The lecture hall had a stadium like seating arrangement ensuring the back benchers with a balcony view. Attendance was mandatory and that preempted the students from doing a vanishing act.

Forced to sit through the drone, the class endured the punishment – many enjoyed even that, counting the minutes and developing the art of doodling!

A nearby burial ground paved way to the joke - that they could experience the ‘life after death’, then & there. 

The harried class held a snap poll and voted the Physics lecturer as the “Atacama Man” They cursed him for having authored the prescribed text-book and pitied the proof reader – probably a research scholar availing the lecturer’s favors?

Force, Friction, Heat, Light, Sound, Magnetism - the indexed chapters gave them a fright. However hard they tried, they could not stay focused with the lecture or the lecturer.

That bred ennui and some of the “go-lucky” students decided to enliven the proceedings. On a particular day, they got together during break and seriously discussed the strategy. It was truly amazing to the rest of the students that these fellow students could come up with so many ideas for a single act of playing a prank.

They chose the first lecture on Sound as the D-day. They entered the hall and occupied their seats well in advance. Later it came out through the Lab Attendant that these pranksters had brought a jute bag in to the hall.

The “Atacama Man” started the lecture on sound propagation and went head long into corpuscular & wave theories. The focused wish of the students must have made him to go to the black board to elaborate on the theories, as they were waiting for such a signal to stage their act.

One of them, noiselessly, untied the jute bag and set that on the floor at a distance. Students in the nearby desks saw a dizzy puppy – a mongrel looking like a Dachshund with a Bull dog’s face lazily opening its eyes to take in the surroundings.

It might have been woozy due to a heavy breakfast (a treat) or a mild sedation in the glass of milk it slurped before being packed in the jute bag.

The sound of a dry lecture might have aided it to get proper bearings and started to slowly amble down the amphitheater.

Unaware of these happenings, the lecturer was straining himself to lead the students, who were listening and unaware of the puppy’s presence, to understand the characteristics of sound.

Getting enough of it, the puppy decided to take further matters in its hand. Playing the gallery to the hilt, the mongrel misjudged the steps, stumbled, regained balance and continued its’ journey towards the podium.

The swagger of the puppy evoked a mixed response. Some of the dogo-phobic students lifted their feet off the ground. Others reacted by tightly sealing their lips to avoid giggles/laughter from escaping. The pranksters maintained their cherubic faces in masked innocence.

It was like watching a Laurel-Hardy act, in pin drop silence. The mongrel, coolly, approached the podium and squatted right in front (at that moment the back) of the lecturer.

Gathering its vocal cords, the mongrel started to whimper, yap, whine and yelp in that order. Probably it was communicating its’ disagreement with the content of the lecture.

The mongrel’s concerto of cacophony taught the students all that the lecturer was trying to teach – pitch vibration, sympathetic vibration, frequency and modulation et al.

The lecturer was startled out of his wits (?) and rushed down from the dais. He misjudged the step, stumbled and somehow held on to his balance - to stay upright. At that very same instant, the mongrel also ambled towards the steps, as if to meet the lecturer, halfway, probably to discuss its theory on SOUND!

The whole class erupted into a thunderous roar of laughter. It took him a few seconds to understand what had happened. Livid with anger, he let loose a barrage of verbal bullets and marked the entire class as absent, threatening them with dire consequences.

Few students noticed that the lecturer also sounded like the mongrel – whimper and all.
The matter went to the Principal and he tried his best to get the names of the pranksters. None opened their mouth and all pleaded that the mongrel might have come, inside the class, on its own.

Getting nowhere, the Principal chided misbehavior and warned the mischief mongers. Mainly that sermon was delivered to placate the agitated lecturer, who happened to be an influential and senior faculty.

The Lab Attendant cashed in on the opportunity to avail small comforts at frequent intervals. The pranksters had no choice but to part with their pocket money, by rotation.

University exam time - the class held its collective breath and waited, at the office of “Atacama Man”, HOD of Physics to collect the Hall Tickets. The college had that practice of issuing the hall tickets through the offices of the most teased lecturer.

Students were milling around, mornings and evenings. “Atacama Man” ignored them and went about his works.

The meek students (read studious students) started murmuring and separated from the main body. One of them suggested that they alone could meet the lecturer and request him not to keep them on tenterhooks, at that time when the next step in a student’s life might begin.

Taking help of other lecturers of the department, they somehow managed a grudging audience, a verbal cleansing and the Hall tickets. The fate of the other students was hanging in the balance.

The principal finally intervened and called the rest of them for a few harsh words. Initially he insisted that they come with one of the parent or a guardian. Relenting later on, slapped a hefty fine for indiscipline and disbursed the Hall tickets.

Those who had undergone the agony of wait heaved a sigh of relief. Little did they know that the “Atacama Man” had the last laugh – the question paper had been set by him.

They got the shock of their life when they started reading it in the examination hall. As if to rub salt in their wounds, each question carried sub-questions covering all the chapters in the syllabus. Pranksters and topic-skippers were swept under tsunami waves of confusion and consternation.

A question mark hung over them all - “how many of us would be reappearing for that examination?” 

Type Writer.

In what capacity am I emboldened to write about the type writer?  What did I know about this machine?

I came face to face with this machine when I joined a type writing institute. Completed two thirds of the required attendance, to appear for the Lower Grade Exam, and then discontinued. Would that suffice?

This mechanical contraption had a cavernous mouth. Scores of tongues and teeth adorn the persona, if you care to open the front cover to admire the panorama of dental works.

The keys did not bite you and allows “pecking” at-times or finger-walking all over them as a piano player did.

Conveniently provided space bar, Shift and Tab keys allowed setting of margins, line spacing and selection of Upper (or) lower case of an alphabet. But the type writer gave no freedom to select a font of your choice – the only option provided was ‘take it or leave it’. The machine did not believe in shrinking -had no provision for super-scripting or sub-scripting of alphabets and numerals.

The space bar helped to maintain a healthy distance from each word appearing on the monitor. The machine rang a bell to warn the user that the set margins are about to be breached. How considerate!

You could scroll the monitor by using the lever on both the sides of the machine. In that aspect, the printing roller would also lend a helping hand.

The printing roller generated friction for the scrolling of the monitor, line by line. That was the reason why the type writer used flexible paper as monitor!

Wonder of wonders, the machine was so advanced it used a disposable monitor to give the view of your handiwork - typing. This monitor could be used on the reverse side also. The typed text what you on the monitor stayed for ever as a print!

These disposable monitors can be stored (mass storage) and simultaneously, up to four, copies can be made in real time.  From the personal health point of view, these bio-degradable, paper monitors did not emit harmful X or Y rays! At your bidding, the monitor could change display from portrait to landscape.

The machine boasted an inbuilt printer – a spool loaded with ribbon, on the left hand side, and an empty spool at the receiving end, on the right hand side. You pressed a tooth, the tongue swung in to action and struck at the ribbon.

Presto! The alphabet or numeral appeared on the screen. It used a rewind and reuse technology as far as the ribbon was concerned. Color options were limited to Black, black & red (top half red, bottom half of ribbon in blue).

In the company of learners and speedathon typists, the machine gave out “clack” “clack” sound. Lower speed typers did produce the patter of rain drops on a tin roof. The higher speed typers took you to a battle field where loaded guns were firing with non-stop staccato sound. To the master in the Institute it is sound of tongues getting him business.

This machine had helped many great authors to deliver manuscripts, at a prolific rate.

This contraption was so clever; it had abdicated the memory storage & operating software to the typist – the external CPU. So, was free from virus attacks and booting problems! Did not like pen drives, so did not think of including it. Mundane functions like spell check, delete, cut & paste were left to the human CPU.
Then how did it work? You simply removed the dust cover, wiped the machine with a cloth, insert the monitor, set margins, spacing and start typing. Simplest of all booting techniques totally devoid of any OS to please!  An UPS was not required, as it was running on human power.

For an inanimate thing, it was a great organ donor - keyboard, printer and monitor to the PC. It took birth as a lifeless mechanical machine and is struggling to live amongst the supercomputers’ of this era. May its’ soul rest in peace, when the time comes!

Peeping Tom.

It is a common sight; in air-conditioned chair Cars of any intercity trains, to see some commuters bring in Lap-tops and some others note-books/tablets.

Few of the Lap-top wallahs’s, plug-in and hammer away their keyboard. It would make one wonder if their very existence depended on it.

The Lap-top wallah’s would set the laptop on the food tray for their convenience. The inconvenience caused to fellow traveller's, seated in the aisle and window seats is of no concern, to them. This is office on wheels for you.

The Note-book/Tablet wallah’s play games for a while. After some time, both the creed would start viewing, stored or down loaded movies. One that can be agreed upon is that – they come well prepared for such occasions. Now we have movie theatres on wheels!

Serious family dramas clash with English action movies. Songs clashing with the music score of 3D movie avatar or some such kind. Dialogues from Indian movies mix with dialogues of English films. Oh! What a wonderful way to bring together East and West.

According to the activities, the passengers on board the train can be grouped as (1) seasoned (2) serious and (3) curious.

Among the former type there exists a demarcation: some run offices and movie theatres, the rest simply ignore the happenings.

The passengers in the next category mind their own business of chitchatting, reading or simply sleeping off. The sound mixing does not have any effect on them.

The last mentioned type is like a super hero in a blockbuster movie. However, in this type there exists a further classification- super hero (SH) type and the curious fans who note every thing the hero does.

Whether SH wants it or not, he gets unwanted attention from the fans. One wonders if SH is aware of the piercing eyes of his fans from side and back row a seat is a question.

Now let us see why and what for there is this special attention. The super hero cranes his neck, slides sideways, sits erect and then unwinds himself. The objective appears to be the monitor in the immediate front row or in the aisle seat- two rows in front and slightly across from him.

This self positioning would go on till the time the movie gets finished or the monitor wallah closes shop, preparing to get down at the train stop coming up. If any other movie hall is functioning the hero would strain and strive to establish eye contact with that monitor.

If unsuccessful, then he might try to read a news paper or a magazine held by a co-passenger.

Oh! I forgot to tell you, using their super powers, some of them try to read others’ news paper with or without permission.

If they get permission they read it right royally, if not repeat the antics of the movie watcher.

I know you have a puzzling question in your mind – to what type do I belong? Read the text again and find that you are also a partner in this crime of watching people with out their knowledge!

To keep our conscience clear let us call ourselves “keen observers”

Is it okay with you?

You are the reason - MD.

The Muser joined a private company owned by a friend of twenty odd years. In the nineties the company was manufacturing elastomeric products and later diversified in to the production odd aerospace components as well.

The MD wanted help in developing new applications and products. He requested Muser to spend his retirement time to oversee the efforts. He might have been sizing up Muser for all those years.

Muser started organizing the Lab where the pilot study would start. He was dismayed at the next to non-existent facilities and wondered at what he was hoping to accomplish there.

In his professional life, prior to this assignment, he had developed new applications but was bitter that none of them were implemented whole heartedly.

He grabbed the chance, thinking that here was an opportunity for immediate industrial application for the hoped-for developed products. However, he had to acknowledge, the spirit of doing difficult things and to do it better than others was mutually shared.

Being a private company, the MD had to shift focus from one development to other on the basis of emerging bottle necks.

This forced the Muser to shift priorities from development to application techniques & solutions for technical problems. It was totally new and Muser resented interruptions. But he bit back the resentment as the technical problems were affecting established products plunging MD’s reputation toward land of disrepute.

Any solution had to be worked at lab level and in quick time. A cycle of investigation followed by a remedial action and proof testing would be a tall order for a well equipped lab – needs only thinking & execution.

Just imagine such a situation being handled in an ill-equipped lab and with slovenly staff. Even in that quest, the M.D would insist on no interruption in regular production.

This might seem paradoxical to anyone else but what do you expect from a lone head thinking of grandeur products and ending up delivering them half cooked.

Surely, the cause lay within him (MD). He was allergic to expenditure and welcomed any initiative not involving spending. He expected magic in coming up with a technical solution in minutes.

The MD possessed consummate skill in painting untrue picture as real to any one (customer) calling over phone. Might have become a successful screen play writer, if he had chosen to become one indeed!

The causality was always the developmental works, in various stages of advance. An avid reader of patents, he gets easily fired up in imagining his capability and sells the idea to some gullible customer. The dangled carrot is easily taken.

Both the M.D and the Customer did not pass to think that what was being bitten cannot be chewed. At home, he would reroute the development activities, turning it by 180º - the ills of carrying work to house.

Muser found the going tough .in his professional life so far, it was his focus and rigid approach that had paid dividends. Here the situation was opposite to organized attempts.

Many well shaping projects either got abandoned or ended too late. One such development that came too late was in-house treatment of a, manufacturer finished product, to be later converted as a critical space application component. Right from day one, the project had seen only hurdles – improper equipment, insufficient preparatory works and steady interruptions.

The bitter emotion was piling up in Muser’s mind and became a constant irritant. In small doses he vented out this bitterness in discussions with other friends.

One day, the M.D requested Muser to come to the Office. Three gentlemen from another Project had come for a status review. Muser realized that the discussions might have been going on for some time, since one the gentlemen asked the Muser a specific question. This gentleman had earlier met with Muser once or twice and knew of his woes.

As usual M.D might have painted a rosy picture. He introduced Muser to the other two gentlemen with some titles. MD followed this technique, of putting someone else in the spot, to gain maneuvering space.

Of the two gentlemen, one man wanted to know why the developmental project was running behind schedule. He wanted to know the exact reason for the delay. To play the role of an onlooker, MD asked Muser to go ahead and answer, which the MD always liked to do.

All the pent up emotions welled up like a tsunami. Muser spoke in a clear and unmistakable voice – You are the reason Mr. M.D

The readers can now imagine what emotions this would have evoked in those individuals.

The Mouse

Hats off to the genius/geniuses, who fashioned the most essential computer peripheral, of course we are talking about ‘The Mouse’. They shrank the size of the biological mouse, after removing its vital organs. The organs were replaced with miniaturized electronic circuitry. Many heads must have, sat together to find a way to replace the brain.

A blue eyed boy developed a software program thus breathing life into the mouse – effectively uniting Atman with the physical body!

He was careful not to give complete control of the system to the mouse. He allowed it to function only as a navigational aid across drives, folders and files!

After this enlightenment, the next task in hand was to give mobility to the mouse. The solution was simple – navigate the mouse using the human hand.

The next vexatious issue was what to do , regarding the external appearance?

Most of us dislike the look of the biological mouse and its’ furry, grey endodermis (outer skin). Contact by human hand was a predicament, though it was only a synthesized mouse. This consumer concern was cleverly overcome with a tortoise shell shaped plastic cover.

There still remained three unused parts from the biological mouse – the eyes, teeth and tail.

One by one the issues were sorted out (Isn't the divide and conquer approach best used here).

The eyes were merged as one and were placed on the belly of the mouse. Two of its teeth were put up on the front side of the shell, in order to aid in providing limited functions by obeying human commands, for example: positioning the cursor, selection etc on the PC.

The genius/geniuses did not forget to give a “real mouse touch” – they provided a knurled wheel to allow their mouse to scroll up and down.

The tail of the mouse was thoughtfully extended and plugged to the CPU as a two way communication appendage. What a metamorphosis!

Probably owing to the pressure from activists, a tailless (wire-less) mouse was introduced, may be, by a rodent lover.

Are you not happy to use the Mouse?

Don’t you reserve tickets, hotel rooms, transfer funds, send & reply mails with a mere click of the Mouse?

But for the Mouse, can you manage these complex tasks?

Now, humanoids take off your Hats and salute the genius/geniuses who fashioned this essential computer peripheral – the Mouse.