The Number Game

From admission to application, Travel to telecommunication, banking to business, deficit to defence, mathematics to materials, ration to registration, and population to politics, this one thing is inevitable.
It is like the soul - invisible but powerful. It had even recently appeared in a news item along side the soul, when a poet compared the square root of minus one to a soul.

The name of the soul, if one is permitted to name it, is number. Even then it is not so simple – whether it is odd, even, prime, and real or imaginary number has to be taken into account , before venturing to invite relatives & friends for the christening ceremony!

Truly the number has spread its wings wide and farther – shrinking, in numerical value to the size of an electron and growing to the size of the universe! It is as fascinating to the number crunchers (mathematicians) as the heaven is to the star gazers (astronomers). One is searching for the largest prime number and the other is focused on the farthest point of light & life

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 It has not left even the statisticians and psephologists from its influence. They have a field at the 24X7 TV stations, during worse economic times and during elections, though both may predict nightmares but use numbers as their props.

The number is not afraid of the endless human manipulation it suffers - square, cube and up to nth roots - a tortuous path in division and subdivision. On the other side, square, cube and up to nth power - it explodes like a bomb!

It takes to square roots   or  squares to spreads wings with equanimity, never grumbling and not getting carried away at the claim of some one finding the largest prime number or weary of accommodating the possibility of some one coming with an infinite number  and immediately another disputing it with a  infinity+, a never ending game!

In its mind it is very clear that an attribute to a positive number applies equally to a negative number- real or imaginary.

It is not afraid of unknowns and knows fully well that they too will get resolved in to mere numbers. Meter long equations do not bother it: knows the out put will again result only in numbers!

Let us count the numbers we come up with. But before that we shall meet a special one – the fancy number. Like vastu, numerology and Feng Shui, the fancy number commands a premium and goes to the highest bidder.

 Every citizen’s life is touched by the number- literally from cradle to grave. DOB and DOD are the foundation and capstone in the human life. Like pre-natal care, the number takes hold of a human life as a serial number, ward number, student roll no, exam hall ticket number and finally as the marks scored.

As life continues, the number still follows – number of digit in the salary, savings & taxes,  ticket number, seat number,  route number,  PNR number and flight number. Bank account numbers, token number, debit/credit card number, phone number, passport number…. The Neanderthal humans were blessed ones - a million times!

In the form of figures, they play an important role in  Nation’s economy - GDP, CAD and inflation index. Numbers are plain speaking and do not fit when a little attraction or distraction is needed. Frightening numbers are reduced to percentiles and presented as lines & curves in graphs – numbers taking the avatar as figures!

 It leaves an indelible mark in the population and electoral front too. State or central government cannot be formed with out its help – a magical number or a simple majority in the House. In serious law making, it plays a vital role in the form of statutory strength of a 2/3rd majority. Here the number is used as mighty tool!

Even the .net domain is not free of its influence – bit, byte and so on. The surfers have taken a fancy to use the number as part of user name or the pass word! Numerology plays the number game to the hilt, by adding & subtracting alphabets from one’s given name, assuring a positive direction in life.

They have gained influence of astronomical proportions. Evolving from the human minds, it had reached the very origin of this universe-counting & numbering the galaxies on the way, for good measure!

The politicians who are not afraid of anything get scared at the hustings. Counting, recounting, wafer thin margin – all boils down to the number!

The sports persons are not far behind – the number of moves, runs, winning by a whisker, photo finish – all result in only numbers.

Whatever be the method of calculation, it remains unwavering in its direction & magnitude – a figure you can’t argue with. If imaginary numbers are made up to bury the truth, the real number will haunt every second of the rest of life.

It is very attractive in the good times or the opposite in bad times – a Jekyll & Hyde in numbers.
The number is so unique – it precedes, stays or succeeds you with an equal ease. Digs up the past and displays it as history.

In the present it leaves the majority puzzled, pleased or downright distraught - the modus operandi is by presenting problems, delivering a rosy economic picture or by ushering in an economic melt-down.

Not to leave the future untouched, it paves the road you have to take, dangling the dream of the future!

Finally as the day of departure comes, age of the deceased is counted and DOD is remembered, again as numbers! The spirit of the numbers cannot be contained.

Dear number is Nemesis thy name!

The Horlicks jar … Man!

The one pound glass jar with a nice printed cardboard packing still remains fresh in memory.

The content, Horlicks, was jealously guarded from the prying nature of air and moisture till it reached the consumers. A cardboard seal bonded on the mouth of the container ensured it.

It occupied a prominent place in display- in General and Medical stores. Once in the house hold it had a guaranteed a niche to reside.

The Horlicks, in glass jar travelled wide and far and was a permanent feature near hospital beds -to nourish the patients back to health. Doctors prescribed it, orally, along with a list of prescription medicines.

A visitor to a house hold, where children and elderly people are sure to be there, never forgot to bring this glass jar along with fruits, nuts and flowers.

In the household, the jar, full or empty, was carefully preserved by the home makers. Used the contents judiciously and found multiple utilities when the jar became empty.

Kids were attracted by the noiseless way the lid cap can be unscrewed to help themselves with spoonfuls of the tasty powder.

The opportune moments were carefully chosen, when the elders had their afternoon siesta, to effect the heist.

Their philosophy was very simple - hungry stomach & craving taste buds should not go unrewarded. If caught red handed, they were ready to quote from the scripture - Krishna stole butter to show His affection and in the same way, we are also showing our affection for the Horlicks powder.

What the elders could do, except to admire the quick wit?

The kids did not like the other health drinks – Bournvita or Ovaltin. They did not go after them for a simple reason. They came in tin containers and made hell of a noise while opening the lid – definitely not suitable for a clandestine affair!

A jar of Horlicks gave the women folk an edge in grading & dealing with the guests visiting the house. The most welcome got a drink of more milk, less water and liberally added Horlicks powder. The least welcome guest got more water, less milk and a sprinkling of Horlicks powder.

In the house, the empty Horlicks jars were treated still as precious. The jars got a religious warm water bath, a sun bath and towelling before being appointment as storage containers in the kitchen. The transparency, maintainability and hygiene must have appealed to the natural motherly instinct!

They organized the filled glass jars like soldiers in formation. Liquids, semi-solids, powders, granules and nuts clamoured to get stored in them, literally.

Home-made pickles and hair oil found a container which allowed them to see the world. Nuts, raisins and assortment of grocery items were stored with a facility to periodically inspect the contents.

The women folk being innovative assigned another role for the empty glass jar. They used it as a “churner” to separate butter from the skimmed cream.

The empty glass jars, became a special purpose vessel/container, in the hands of kids. They built an aquarium to keep river fishlings; converted them to arable land to grow seedlings, used them as a green house; as biological parks to rear (or to inconvenience) insects such as grass hoppers, gadflies, spiders and butterflies.

Times changed. The packaging changed- attractive plastic container replaced the glass jar. These plastic containers, finding lesser utilities, started fearing the recycle bins.

Many newer brands entered the market share of Horlicks began to shrink. Feeling the heat , it gracefully accepted the inevitable.

The TV opened up opportunities, for the health drinks, to promote & compete with each other. They turned the spotlight on infants & kids, coming out with 1-2-3,Jr. versions, -23- and -32- varieties. Aggressive marketing began….

Models, as brand Ambassadors, stood by extolling, measuring and sporting a Mono Lisa smile to ensure that the message captured the target audience’s imagination. To add ‘Zip’ and ‘Zing’ to the campaign, white coated gentlemen were roped in to give expert opinions.

Newer brands, different models and to up the ante all the health drink packets carried free gifts worth almost the cost of the product. Some even went crazy – offered free gifts that were attractive on the print and disappointing on hand.

Many brands and many claims – neuron activation, growth stimulation, strength & stamina fountain etc; - repertoire was truly amazing!

The rest is history – kids telling moms to buy this or that health product!

Now, only the semi-retired & retired old bones will be fondly remembering the content and the glass jar of Horlicks powder. The very mention of the name Horlicks will set their taste buds watering and flashing mental pictures of the extracurricular activities they enjoyed, using an emptied Horlicks glass jar.

Vive la the Horlicks glass jar of the bygone era!

Why is it called Horlicks and whether it is a singular or a plural?

May be one you can answer or Mr. Bachchan Jr might have an Idea!

Manju on the Wall.

This happened decades ago. Manju alias Manjula was about 2 ½ years old then.

She’s the daughter of a friend, who was my colleague. I used to borrow his bicycle for short rides to visit with other friends.

During these outings, before I could even say bye, Manju would be standing near the bicycle, hoping for a ride.

She would hop on to the baby seat, fixed between the handle bar and the rider’s saddle. My wife would be the pillion rider.

Soon our friends became Manju’s friends. This camaraderie was enough for her.

Even at that age she knew the rules of the road, always kept to her left. Every day at around 7 A.M., by keeping to the left side of the road, would come to our house carrying a bucket, towel, fresh clothes and soap.

My wife or I took turns to bathe and dress her up. My wife completed the facial make-up and hair styling.

We used wonder why she did not bring face powder, hair oil and comb! Nevertheless we three were happy with each other’s company.

Evenings and holidays were fun and frolic of an extraordinary kind. After the usual digging, planting and watering the garden, with equal efforts from her, she would declare it was time for play.

Manju liked the thrill of jumping off from the compound wall in to my outstretched hands. This was how we played ‘Manju on the compound wall’.

She stood poised like a swimmer on the diving board on the 4’ high garden wall. I stood back, with hands on my back, at a distance of about 3 to 4 feet.

I would start the count down from ten and then came the critical stage of acrobatics. With her supreme confidence in me, she would leap up.

And in a split-second operation, I would stretch my hands forward to catch her in mid-air. My sheer reflexes and her unassailable faith in my abilities made the game adventurous. This act would be repeated many times before she called it quits only wanting to engage me in the next equally dangerous act.

Yet again we used the compound wall to play this game. Manju would stand erect, with arms close to the body.

I would then hold her ankles together and lift her up head high. Instinctively she knew how to maintain the balance, by slowly spreading her arms sideways like wings of a bird in flight.

The downward trip would be faster and I managed to place her gently on to the wall. Her appreciation was based on the maximum time I could hold her aloft.

We named the next game, in the series, as the “flooring exercise”.  

All that I was called up on to do was to lift her vertically, holding the sides of her face between my palms, till her eyes came level with mine. Practically her entire body weight was being supported by my gripping palms. Her ears became red and it did not bother her at all.

All through these adventurous games, my wife stood guard, behind me, holding her breath.

She was worried that these games might injure the child and her parents might not allow her to come to our house for playing.

It turned out to be unfounded. All that mattered to Manju and me was the fun that we had with our acrobatics.

Thirty five years later, we met again in a marriage reception. Manju had come with her husband. We got talking about old times.

Obviously she might not have told her husband about those childhood adventures. He listened with rapt attention and a gleam of awe appeared in his eyes.

Carried away by enthusiasm, I went further and said, “Had I asked her to jump from a high rise building at that time, Manju would have simply done that!”

Hearing this, Manju’s husband mischievously said, “Uncle you should have just done that and I would have escaped this marriage!”  Laughing, Manju said, “It would have been just fine with me too!”

' How quickly time has passed by', was all I could muse about looking at Manju who stood smiling and poised.

Her poise roused in me the poignant memories of her father. I knew him, though for  a brief period, to be a considerate family man, an accomplished sportsman, an extrovert and an extraordinary culinary artist. These passing thoughts choked my emotions and thoughts about them lingered for a long time, that day.

The case of the vanishing ladder.

In a process facility there will always be the need to arrange catering ,transportation, entry-passes for visitors, mail-room etc;.

When the dim-wit joined the organisation, these were taken care  by the concerned in-charges. Years later,another dim-wit joined the facility. During this time too, the above arrangements were being made on the signature of the concerned in-charge.

When a third dim-wit joined, the situation became little different. By this time the first dim-wit has become the in-charge and he was happily forwarding the requests without authorising them. The second dim-wit was under the impression that this is being done to please the Boss who has been elevated.

After one such incident, the second and third dim-wits asked the first “why are you not signing as the authorising officer?”

The first dim-wit replied calmly “It is the case of the vanishing ladder. As my boss got elevated, he has taken the power to authorise also with him”.

[The narrative though set in a specific environment , could have taken place in any private or government section office. This setting helps the reader spin their own yarn :) ]

The Magic Show.

The new equipment has been erected and was to be commissioned by a “who is who”. Lots of preparatory works were diligently carried out. The D-day approached. Then realization dawned that the control systems will not be ready in time.

 At the stroke of midnight a bright idea was thought up. Like in festival celebrations, colored festoons were arranged. The moment came and so also the VIP. Unaware of the hood-winking, the VIP switched ON the equipment to the accompaniment of thunderous applause. The beaming VIP saw the colorful festoons flying madly in the induced air draft.

The gentlemen surrounding the VIP explained the features and functions of the equipment just declared commissioned. It was a great photo opportunity for one and all. The man who thought up the idea could be seen sporting a smile. 

This is not the end of the story. Three decades later history repeated itself for another - equipment but in a different location. Except for the fresher from the 1st commissioning drama, the man “sporting a smile” has happily retired. The situation was well managed by a different set of people.