The grumblings at the airport:
It was a sight to behold and capture with any type of photographic equipment. It was a scene of a lifetime, for those who got stranded at the airport and had nothing else to do to keep their worried minds occupied. The arrival departure boards played the role of mute spectators, indicating in unison that all flights have been cancelled. The unmade announcements kept an eerie silence, probably afraid to compete with the din of the battering rain, filtering through glass panels.
He imagined hearing the conversation that was taking place between the wingtip to wingtip parked aircrafts (his sitting ducks). He fine tuned his auditory system so as not to miss even a snatch of that conversation, which he wanted file as a verbatim report. Later at home, he typed out the report entirely from his memory. He titled it “Grumblings at the airport”.
A wet lease craft said, “I know it is outlandish now, but I am reminded of my maiden flight from the factory to the airport and the water-cannon welcome I received”.
A dry lease aircraft, not exactly liking the wet lease, said, “It is a common thing and why you should recollect the nostalgia when we are all stuck like pins on board!”
A turbo-propeller said, “Literally my feet is becoming numb. Do all of you feel the same?”
A wide body aircraft complained, “My legs and joints are paining like a arthritic patient’s and added to that, this icy cold water swirling around them! I need some leg movement at least”.
A new acquisition felt, “Knowing the worsening conditions, they could have landed us in another airport. Or they could have flown us out of here the moment when there was a chance for a takeoff”.
The wiser old aircraft replied, “What kind of business sense you are making? Which airliner will operate on an ‘empty’ flight? Which pilot will risk his reputation just to have pleased you?"
The old craft continued, “Once airborne we can dodge and fly over the weather. On the ground it is payback time. In the bargain we are all getting a non-stop water wash!”.
The new acquisition meekly murmured, “Recently I had a water-cannon bath and since an opportunity is on my head now ,let me enjoy this shower bath”.
The logic in soap:
It is prime time! Tempers flare like sun spots, hot words fly like surface to surface missiles and individual activities get switched on and off at predictable intervals. Ringing cell phones are silenced, turf wars are fought to possess the TV remote, sports addicts are kicked out, news watchers are allotted slots after prime time is past, an icy stare welcomes hapless visitors. The whole atmosphere resembles a boiling pot for 2 minute’s noodles.
There is no other medium that holds an entire household in rapt attention - the idiot box. Being an inanimate object, it has managed to turn all most all persons in the house into couch potatoes or sofa potatoes! The center piece is the TV stand and somehow everyone in the house finds space and time to be present at this one single point, like a halogen lamp signing off in to a single spot. In this case it is not the signing off but the signing in, to watch the ever growing episodes of soaps or serials! The most cooked menu is ‘the Onion bath’ (misery) or ‘the blood bath’ (revenge) and the menu for the next meal is either in the freezer or will be got made in installments, during the commercial breaks.
Misery or otherwise no compromise in showing it in opulent settings, only one character has to go out of the way , even out of the serial, to help others, the characters delivering neither eloquent nor inspiring dialogues without even getting a single facial muscle into the act etc;. The helpless episode director resorts to jarring back ground music or zooming on to the expressionless faces to create an impact in the viewer’s mind. The director need not have worried so much as this will become a little clear later in this ‘episode’.
This is the story of anytime serial. Watch it for months; take a break for a month, rejoin to find that, the story has not even progressed further by two pages of the script. For the ones just joining in, the twists and turns given in that one episode is enough to cause a neck pain and the remedy is, obviously, to sit for the next episode, even if there is something worthwhile to do. Such is the tempting aroma of ‘the Onion bath’ or ‘the blood bath’. For the die hard viewers, the option of repeat telecast in the lazy afternoons provides a bridge between the episodes of yesterday and today. This lot refuses to accept that nothing of substance would have happened in that 30 minutes they missed on the previous day. Such is the of the soaps, even during natural disasters, these viewers might have worried more about those missed episodes than about the real personal miseries at that point of time.
The viewers are so engrossed in the soaps, they fail to notice even episodes that double as recaps for the past week's news editions.
The never ending serials act somehow as the super conductor for evacuating logic from the mind. Like Socrates, if you go around the streets of your neighbourhood asking for a person who does not take TV serials seriously, you will be evicted from the neighbourhood! Acting like Solomon, the wise, if you pass a judgment that the ads, appearing after each segment conveys more substance and showcases better acting skills than the serial…..
Keep your visa stamped passport ready, you may have to emigrate!
With such a commanding popularity, it will become clearer to the episode director that none of the things he was worried about matters anymore!
The hold of a maidservant:
The mushrooming apartment buildings in any location has resulted in increasing the density of population per sq. Km. This situation has resulted in a manifold increase on the demand side. The supply market already stretched to burst at the seams gets into the driver seat of a F1 racing car. The short supply is the domestic help. The need has become acute is offshoot from the vanishing joint families and economic necessity for both the man and woman of the house to be in employment.
Gone are the olden days, when a prospective maidservant carried out a due diligence before signing in. Snacks with tea (with menu specified), free T V viewership, off days per month and of course the quantum work that will be done as per her whims and fancies. Now with the changed job market, the prospective maid-servant does not waste her valuable time in haggling. She comes with a fixed agenda and the employer is directed to get the nitty-gritty details from a list of references furnished thoughtfully for this specific purpose. The only oral information directly exchanged is that she has a 2 years old kid. This tidbit lands the techies in “Alice in wonderland” and leaves them perplexed as to where to fit in this nugget of information!
The worst affected are the techies. Travel long distances and spend long hours only to return home exhausted. These are the people chased by the second hands of a clock. The maidservant takes full advantage of this hurry to hop, skip and jump through the accepted chores. If the couple is not the sports loving type, she then employs this never failing formula to cover up the shoddy works for the day – lapses into her local language! When survival is managed by swiping the cards, shopping in malls and guided by GPS, neither the madam nor the gentleman felt the pinch and did not buy a ‘ learn to speak in 30 days’ book.
The arrival of one of the parents started throwing up a conflict a day. The first day, it was the mother who complained about dust still being seen at every nook and corner. Oozing sarcasm, she looked at the maidservant and gesticulated ‘whether she has to walk in the house wearing slippers?’ The father tried to save the situation muttering ‘the broom cannot reach the sharp corner’ and got an icy stare from the madam. The maidservant came in slippers to work on the next day to show that she can also be sarcastic!
The serious bone of contention arose because of the incorrigible kid. Getting down from his mother’s hip, he ambles along on an expedition tour of the house, not leaving any blind spot. Then he pulls out a cell phone and a remote and starts to play a game of ‘race cars’, to spend his time usefully. The whiff of aroma from the kitchen is all that is needed to activate his hyperactive digestive system. If something is not offered, he starts a high pitched wailing, which is worse than his appetite. The techies used to give him something not out may be out of compassion or merely to switch off top the siren.
Two days later, the father tried to show the maidservant, how to neatly stack and leave things in the proper places. She did not react to the suggestions but left him to do it as per his liking.On the third day, he chose to chastise the kid for not showing proper behavior, when in another person’s house. The look on the face of the maidservant conveyed that the old man also was in another person’s house and the unsaid words implying, “mind your words”.
Fearing an adverse reaction from the maid, the techie wife politely read the riot act: (1) the maidservant might wantonly start coming late (2) she may quit without notice and (3) your return journey tickets can be booked.
This unsettled the nerves of parents, and settled the supremacy of the need for the maidservant, shoddy or not!
The hold of a maidservant:
The mushrooming apartment buildings in any location has resulted in increasing the density of population per sq. Km. This situation has resulted in a manifold increase on the demand side. The supply market already stretched to burst at the seams gets into the driver seat of a F1 racing car. The short supply is the domestic help. The need has become acute is offshoot from the vanishing joint families and economic necessity for both the man and woman of the house to be in employment.
Gone are the olden days, when a prospective maidservant carried out a due diligence before signing in. Snacks with tea (with menu specified), free T V viewership, off days per month and of course the quantum work that will be done as per her whims and fancies. Now with the changed job market, the prospective maid-servant does not waste her valuable time in haggling. She comes with a fixed agenda and the employer is directed to get the nitty-gritty details from a list of references furnished thoughtfully for this specific purpose. The only oral information directly exchanged is that she has a 2 years old kid. This tidbit lands the techies in “Alice in wonderland” and leaves them perplexed as to where to fit in this nugget of information!The worst affected are the techies. Travel long distances and spend long hours only to return home exhausted. These are the people chased by the second hands of a clock. The maidservant takes full advantage of this hurry to hop, skip and jump through the accepted chores. If the couple is not the sports loving type, she then employs this never failing formula to cover up the shoddy works for the day – lapses into her local language! When survival is managed by swiping the cards, shopping in malls and guided by GPS, neither the madam nor the gentleman felt the pinch and did not buy a ‘ learn to speak in 30 days’ book.
The serious bone of contention arose because of the incorrigible kid. Getting down from his mother’s hip, he ambles along on an expedition tour of the house, not leaving any blind spot. Then he pulls out a cell phone and a remote and starts to play a game of ‘race cars’, to spend his time usefully. The whiff of aroma from the kitchen is all that is needed to activate his hyperactive digestive system. If something is not offered, he starts a high pitched wailing, which is worse than his appetite. The techies used to give him something not out may be out of compassion or merely to switch off top the siren.
Two days later, the father tried to show the maidservant, how to neatly stack and leave things in the proper places. She did not react to the suggestions but left him to do it as per his liking.On the third day, he chose to chastise the kid for not showing proper behavior, when in another person’s house. The look on the face of the maidservant conveyed that the old man also was in another person’s house and the unsaid words implying, “mind your words”.
Fearing an adverse reaction from the maid, the techie wife politely read the riot act: (1) the maidservant might wantonly start coming late (2) she may quit without notice and (3) your return journey tickets can be booked.
This unsettled the nerves of parents, and settled the supremacy of the need for the maidservant, shoddy or not!
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