TheScientificTriangle

It was in reference to the fact that she had responsibilities, as she thought it might have been. But why on Earth was this topic coming up was not known.

Lest someone was hearing via extendable ears, a mother’s worrying her daughter’s marriage.

She had cried coming home, to her mother not because she felt hurt at the idea of not getting married, she was long prepared for it, but since she had never thought of harming him, nor had any plans to like him remotely that way, nor loved him ever, not even in a single thought.

She cried since it was spoken so loud that each person in every cubicle raised their head to look at her. It was quite insulting for a woman who was struggling through her own pains.

She had a bad habit, since childhood she always shared information with her mother. Her mother usually knew almost all her office people by name and details but as age grew, her daughter’s grew too. A valiant fight against breast cancer did not make her brave when she worried about her future. So, any obvious good note from Bivonte when shared by the daughter, the mother’s expectations rose.

“Does he like you?”

“I don’t know, why would he and I don’t see him that way, I don’t expect.” She would answer.

She knew he was once holding the team together and many were friends to him.

Everyday soon after she would enter office she would put her bag down, ask him about the tasks in hand.

One day, her quality reviewer trainer caught her hand while she was moving out of her cubicle towards his, “Why do you go to him everyday?”

“Nita, to ask him what all needs to be done.”

“He is morning shift. You can ask me.” She remarked.

“Of course, I do ask you too, don’t I?”

“Yes, you do.” She smiled and further added,

“You don’t know what kind of a person he is, the girl who marries him would definitely be drowned or burnt. He is so demanding, or else she has to always run behind him.”

“Why should I know that. How does it impact me?” She found it tough to wade through this commotion always.

Her manager had changed.. one lady gave way to another.

A Reiki healer, who knew the meaning of Om Mani Padme Hum, an enthusiastic woman who lived singly. She was in training with Shrum and once when both were washing their hands in the restroom, Shrum in error asked her,

“Are you married?”

The answer was something which Shrum might have to give some years later.

“There should be something good to get married, something more meaningful, something beyond our words.”

Shrum heard it, smiled her bright smile.

She thought while coming back that she would add one word,

“Love, she would only get married to give and get love.”

Rest she knew she could manage, if she could not manage dying was not a very disrespectful decision on her part. She was never scared to give up whereas I was so scared to give up.

The manager would send Shrum for audit rounds and wink at her Quality review trainer, she tested her.

But, then she gave her a chance to flourish.

She was quality review certified much earlier than people told her would take.

The trainer Biyonte who trained her in the training period was a short stout man, with a gleaming skin. Every woman asked him the secret behind the shine. He was definitely proud of who he was and his knowledge was vouched for, he was also soffit spoken towards Shrum and certified her every now and then whenever she did some huge case or added a note of thanks.

This is what Shrum was looking at, she decided to pave her way through her work.

She did one mistake though, she told that upfront.

She knew Sucheta had an emotional bond towards this man, and she never disturbed her. What enraged her at times, was the thought that Shrum was probably behind the trainer which was never the case.

Her soft spoken words and her soft looks was who she was, and of course a deeply grateful person she would express it to all those who stood to help her on her terms.

But, one day almost a year later, Biyonte for some reason blurted out to Shrum’s new manager,

“Who the hell would marry such a girl.”

She was simple, never judged humans based on what they worked as, she would talk with the same respect to a driver as she would to a scientist. This was a weakness I knew the drivers would soon explore even if not a doctor or a scientist.

Meanwhile she kept visiting places in the city, tourist spots with a room mate who had SLE. Vini was on medication and Vini would take Shrum with her to the hospital for check ups. She was on medication and Shrum had grown emotional.

She would ask Shrum to place her up in her company, but Shrum knew how much slogging goes everyday. So, she would deny her every time showing her the amount of work required.

But, then one day they fought over hygiene.

The girl never got back to her.

Vini left the PG and I knew she was interested in Shrum only for her own selfish sake, and Shrum was very amenable.

Even if she is in deep pain, she would always consider others. Probably she understood pain like her Zongpa taught her in childhood.

When she was not talking to Sucheta, not really talking, the cab one day began picking up only them. So, only two people occupied the cab and though she was now not liking her in entirety, she knew rivalry was closing in Sucheta’s eyes, but Shrum spoke plainly to her. Sucheta was worried about what she did was an easy job and what Shrum did was a little better, as per company standards.

Sucheta might have once thought it was due to her colour, burnt mahagony when compared to Shrum’s golden glow. But, then Shrum knew one thing well. She could keep competition out of her head. When Shrum walked into my life, I too began leaving competing with others behind.

I knew this was the fuel in MNCs which keeps you alive but if you are not a person who is of this kind from within, you would soon tend to outgrow it.

This incident build the first point where I knew they had begun studying her.

One day when no one was watching in August, I called her to a discotheque. With an anonymous crowd you are safe to talk.

Lyra and Lizzy, the threesome of us were together.

Lizzy and Lyra were smoking in the bar when Shrum argued outside with a boxer. He would not allow her inside in a salwar and she would not budge, a stubborn head by nature.

If she thinks, she thinks, end of the world. I loved her like a sister and could understand it to the extent that I found it funny.

I often shared all the funny stuffs with her.

Anything in this world, almost all are surrounded by a rim of tears but when you know it’s core, you know it’s not a rim of tears and fears and pain, it never was. It is then that you laugh out, heartily.

“Leave her Jack, she is with me.” They knew me as the loner.

I never interacted with anyone, even if someone tried I wouldn’t talk. For the past five years, I had only come here since I was in the city. Lizzy and Lyra cam down mostly, so we did not need anyone.

Jack never thought I had ever known someone who’d be so scared to even enter the disco bar. He looked at me, screwed his eyes and shrugged allowing her in.

I had began planning a Ph.D in robotics and I knew I would leave by the end of 2014. I had found my sister some six months back and I was trying to establish contact each day.

She would listen to my voice and cut the call.

One day she told me she was on a voyage.

But that morning she called me up, she did not speak much but she gave me her number.

“How are you? How’s mom and dad? How was everyone? I have a long story how I dropped into this, I should have not trusted that guy. Love you. Call me after ten pm in Amsterdam.” That’s it, I heard from her.

But I was happy, she was safe.

But robotics was hard to get in European countries and I had very few choices.

“By 2015 end I would surely leave. I can help you till then, but then you have Lyra and Lizzy. But, you can always call me, anytime. Physically I can’t help you but I can help you.”

She listened quietly and I had to repeat myself a thousand times. She could never hear sometimes, she said there was a beep, a long beep, short beep in her ears.

Some random person told her once when she had been in Leh, that it was divine intervention to protect her from hearing falsities and falsifying details.

She had specs, she could not see well either.

So God protected her eyes and ears. But, then she was so truthful that often she blurted our truth even when not required.

I told her to not speak every truth so plainly.

I told her to not speak out at all when not required.

A half truth is a lie as per some, yet as per the philosophers of this world, Socrates, Pliny and Plato,

“A truth half is always half and never a lie. A lie is not even a twisted truth, is however, close to it. A lie defies all laws of truth, the four pillars of truth.

It does not have a base, a pillar, a roof and walls.”

I showed her Pliny’s thoughts and made her read Plato, asking her to never budge even when people tell her that a truth half is a lie. I told her it was not. I told her it was the way of the world.

I was surely fond of her. I knew by August 2010 she had not become any of these

A competitor

A follower

She was safe for the month.

Though she faced competition, though her seniors refused to help her learn new things, though she knew she was the scapegoat and she ended up doing big, huge cases. She was under the radar though.

“That trainer, don’t go near him much, stay away. Even for work make sure you sit at a distant. You don’t see me, I jumped off, broke my arm and leg. I can’t take the audacity anymore.” The Konkan women are the most beautiful and as Reanna smoked a smokeless cigarette, Shrum saw why people said that.

The medical college hostel had some who were doing all sort of things, and if she asked anyone they all had one answer. They were trying to save themselves. None said they tried drowning themselves. That was her six months before her job. The hostel superintendent would sometimes ask for money, perhaps twice. Shrum gave her since her son was no longer found or did not support the old lady leaving her with growing women of the medical College and the old lady did not quite like doing what she did.

After coming back from home in July 2010, Shrum just focused on one thing- learning all the ever changing rules. She always scribbled all of them in a notebook. A pen and a notebook soon led her to questions, remarks and taunts.

“You can’t remember is it?”

“Ahh show off, how serious you are with your work. Come let’s go, now a village girl would teach us how to work.”

“The time you spent studying all this, why don’t you wax up a little. You hands look coarse covered in those hairs.”

She did not take that one, “yours waxed one don’t look good either, they are red with rashes.”

The girl went close to her, taunting her further.

“Show me your legs, common don’t be shy. In this cubicle you can just show the legs, lift your skirt a little, I am sure you have a forest down there.”

The girl moved closer, but then Shrum pushed her away.

Poor city girl fell down, tumbling on her back against the girl she liked, Sucheta.

She saw the change the flip that day, she stopped thinking Sucheta was kind and stuffs.

That became an issue, it was inside the office, later she stood and cried when the car guy came up comforting her. He was kind at times, at least not hurting even when not helping.

But then, he left soon. So, a friendly person was soon gone.

She attended his wedding engagement as well. He wanted a better job. He was quite messed up with what he did here.

I told her again not to get into any arguments. That made all eyes stand up.

The other day when she found a fault with a case, done by a senior she knew she was in trouble when someone told her in the cafeteria.

“You are gone. You will also make big mistakes, do you think this is it?”

She blabbered she did not see the name and she had just found an error, it could be rectified rather than taken on the ego.

“You are gone.” The random office guy from the other wing left laughing.

She relayed to me. Nothing seemed much severe till now. But, I knew she had fallen into eyes and that would take her somewhere not so good.

“If I don’t rectify it they will talk wrong about me di, my job is new, they can eat it up. We are told to find if any preexisting fault is there to correct it.”

I told her to correct only those things which can impact her the most.

I told her to further find out which impacts he pr work the most.

The sole source she had was her buddy, the young guy in his cubicle who was too young to approach for everything lest he builds a thought around it soon and the clumsy awkwardly silent man soon to be married and quite rude at times.

She decided to stick to her buddy and she slowly collected information she needed to keep the job.

Her PG mates changed every week, except her Konkani friend, who was soon to be getting married to a man who believed women were socks and shoes. She was just moving forward since she seemed to be suffering from some kind of fear.

Rey as she called her left the job, married in a temple, did not call Shrum for her wedding which was again very small according to the girl.

Shrum thought differently though about the man, hence was not sure if it was taking place, the way she knew her friend she could tell, she was not sure if he was marrying even after she purchased her wedding saree.

There was one girl who seemed to be going around with men and was from Kashmir.

I found out she was not, since I was a Kashmiri pandit.

She would harass Shrum asking her all sort of things about how office was, what she did and how she lived. She would often bring proposals for free parties. Shrum would decline but the girl would pester immensely. Shrum would behave rude at times and would hurt herself calling me and sharing her experience. She is not good at being rude and thus it hurts her back.

There were girls who would often take money and not return.

One of the girls stole her bucket while leaving.

In the previous PG she lived in a room with a message girl, with a girl who suffered from constipation, with a girl who sleep walked.

One of them was a lesbian and mostly used her bathroom whenever she brought her mates inside the PG. Reason: Shrum’s door had no lock and repeated requests to the PG owner fell in deaf ears. It was those times when the city roads were not secured with video cams.

Everyday, she had someone who had no cleanliness hygiene the least sense, at least or someone had run away or someone had maddened her.

She brought a puff doll from the roadside one day. The office was not willing to put it.

All came around her, “remove it, it’s not official.” Sucheta told her.

“Everyone decorates their desk. Why can’t I?”

She did not argue, spoke to me and left the matter and the doll at home after keeping it for two days in her work desk.

This was her beginning but then I told her not to get into eyes.

Except another small squabble about the insignificant topic of marriage, wherein she opened her mouth, rest two months were peaceful.

“Our prime purpose in this life is to help others. And if you can’t help them, at least don’t hurt them.” The XIV Dalai Lama.

“Teaching a child not to step in a caterpillar is as valuable to the child as it is to these caterpillar.” Bradley Miller.

I would say we helped Shrum, since it helped her live. I think that is what we did, yes I am absolutely sure. When you read the quote by The venerable, the XIV Dalai Lama, you may see this fact well. You definitely hurt a person when you don’t help her in a way she desires to be helped.

If a doctor begins tying a bandage on the head, when the heart is ill, do you think you will ever say the doctor helped?

You know the answer.

So, Shrum did the interviews, waited staring through the door size window in her room in the paying guest accommodation. Seven days she spent waiting for the call, but she was quite prompt in beginning to search other jobs on her own.

I called her in between and I am Meher.

“Di, do you think I should go for the other interviews, I can see two or three?”

“Please go.” I told her.

But then she got the call and she decided to go ahead, accepting the offer.

A multi national company.

There was a story she had read once, a column by Veenu Sandal.

The boy did not become a professor of mathematics as his ghost father dreamt him to become, in the story, rather he began working in an MNC and few years later became a photographer.

Well, she remembered the story, went to collect her offer letter.

I instructed her to keep up to her work and not to get into the moist dark spaces of these companies.

She nodded, collected her letter, came back spoke to me.

She was relieved though not happy.

“Di, if things turn out well, I can bring in Mom and sis also.” She shared one day.

She was not here for herself again, she was for them, trying to find a space where they could live in peace.

I decided to help her, I knew the city and the world around. But then, confidentiality was a problem.

So I told her I would always be in the back ground and no one knows me except your tales about me. I also asked her to not share her work related confidential information with anyone, not even me.

I knew her PG owners were a family of three, mother with two daughters.

So, it was not a problem at all.

Earlier she had stayed with a Tamil aunt in the neighbourhood of her institute before moving to the Konkan coast. She had also made some Konkani friends and some Malayali and northern friends there.

One of the girls once gave her a good piece of advice,

“Stay away from your that trainer, he is not intending more than a good loot.”

I knew they won’t harm her.

It’s strange how deep innocence can touch.

She had a power, if she was determined no one could ever snatch the innocence from her. A good skill she had and she was completely unaware of it.

She touched me, a Konkani friend of hers and most of her medic friends from Konkan with her simple innocence.

But with her innocence came her immense faith, she would believe anybody and I knew naïveté was not good, indeed harmful.

I had a sister once, whom I lost to the sting of this world. She worked as a full time pole dancer, she stood in the harem museums and she had completely separated herself from us, to save us. She knew she would be a threat to me.

Off late I speak to her and she has money now.

I have spoken to her boss and he has left her, helping her to have a new identity.

She is brilliant when it comes to physics and astrophysics and she was this naive when she went abroad for her course. I was twenty five then, busy with my life.

Two yearS later we did not know her, and a whole year of search led me to her identity.

She began by working as a life coach and also a trainer for bungee jumping.

We all support her, this being her first year in this kind of world after eight years, she is happy to cry often.

I did not want Shrum to loose, I did not want another sister waiting at home for the elder one like me. I am still a shade and I still help her. But, now she is no more naive. She has crossed that ocean.

I may never be a reality of her life but I am real, as real as she is, in this world.

I work, my sister is happy. I am spending my whole time renovating her mind, body and soul.

Thankfully, she is not diseased and we are keeping a close watch on her,

The doctor says she won’t have it probably. She informed me that she had spend each year six months with very professional and rich denizens who are completely healthy and would be so.

So, the naive Shrum has help, God send probably.

I am one of those friends and the kaleidoscope through which I saw Shrum during the process.

There were millions of women around me since the beginning.

One such beautiful group of women sat smoking when Shrum went for her written rounds. She barely had friends.

So she left her private number with them. She realised later, much later that they actually helped her stand all the while, feeding her with knowledge scary yet essential to survive such bugging loathsome creatures.

“Hey, girl what is the ups and the downs? Don’t you from here? Well, if not, welcome to the well or swamp marshy land, the land of snakes, poisons and toads.”

These were the first introductory words for Shrum that our group told her.

I did not smoke but two of my friends are chain smokers. As an IITian I knew her distant cousin as a senior. That’s how the story began.

But, then by 2013, she sat on the pinnacle of doubts.

In 2015, the pimp, Mr.New Kumar left. The mister here does not indicate respect for him at all but the deepest embarrassment to have ever known a human as such, no backbone creature.

Well, reasons can be millions but there is always a limit to being how much of a pimp you want to be.

Well, then things changed slightly but the game continues once begins when it shows benefit,

The competition strikes and ends all.

Such was the job which she survived.

Now, women led her way into the organisation and women helped her all around.

She had made three friends during this time, all of whom left before her but enlightening her into the process.

Some say they damaged her mind, well, she survived with their views which itself proves they were right somewhere.

In July the most benevolent manager of her life a woman again granted her a ten day complete leave.

The woman who helped her understand the process of filling up the hourly sheets was lovely and strong.

Sadly, none of the strong women stayed.

Women with backbones.

The interview:

Well, the written test and then a week’s wait for the interview.

The waiting area had other people, people who worked, people who were like her amateurs.

The call made her enter a small room, rather a tiny room to call it.

There were four people,

The director and managers.

The three men on one side and the woman in the seat aside me.

They asked me questions

My strengths,

My weakness,

My studies,

Their work.

She answered mostly all. She could read faces.

Except one rest all faces were expressing doubt.

She came back. The last question she was asked.

“What do you do if you don’t get the job?”

She needed the job, but her heart did not sink, she said,

“Well, then it was nice talking to you, I will find another and won’t rest till I find one.”

There were shifts and it was human pain basically. Pharmacovigilance they called it.

The money was not good but life could not offer her more right then.

The first few days were blissful.

Lunch, cafeteria, training and client introductions.

The bunny tooth had not got it and he cried bitterly.

A girl she liked got in and the guy with the car also got it.

One day while in the afternoon shift, Shrum went to collect some munchies.

The manager cum director one of her interviewers asked her,

“How do you like it?”

“Good, very good.” She smiled.

She smelt nothing fishy in giving out that answer.

She followed a few rules to keep her safe in this city.

1) She wore what she always wore, no changes in apparel.

2) She lived and breathed her time in the work, without learning anything else.

She received comments later,

1) Look up sometimes, just looking down at the computer won’t help.

2) Hard workers don’t win the race, there is a friend of mine who is a smart worker…Mr. Kumar’s favourite task was to bug others.

Well, for the first comment she remembered thinking,

“How to bear boring human faces, none to call anything except flatly boring.”

For the second she thought just one thing,

“Bugger. Why on earth don’t you try?.” With a sweet smile spread with honey.

It was March when she walked the floor with everything declared confidential in her life by then,

Clients forever confidential. She was obeying, aye aye even when she ceased working.

Salary confidential

Work is confidential and all stringent rules. Well, don’t worry the work would always go down to the grave even when I tell Shrum’s story lest someone is scared.

During the trainings the manager cum director lets call him, Durjoy John.

He told us about Chinese whispers, a psychiatrist by qualifications.

Hearing about it, Shrum thought the story was perhaps said to avoid Chinese whispers only to realise later that the whole place ran only on Chinese Whispers which ran far and wide.

Note: the story points out the fallacy of human life and the build shows the struggle of a young girl within office and outside office. It does not intend to provoke or uproot any system or belief.

No measures of confidentiality regarding work are broken and integrity of humans are preserved in every aspect.

The story revolves around the wrongs, humans do to other humans through actions and words which need to be often relayed. It has fiction mixed well balancing facts, hence aims no derogatory details.

A story to enjoy, to provoke thoughts. Women are not only festered by incidences of bigger scale but smaller ones which can often explode immeasurably.

No personal grudges and no personal interests are being used as targets by the writer of the story.

The whiskers are long and arched.

Whiskers stands aside watching the purrs.

The cat licks them wet,

Shiny, prickly bows make thin, strong pets.

Whiskers watches them hiding behind a tree,

The eyes are intent and quiet like a bird free.

The cat blinks, pricks it’s ears, sits folding

the front paws drawn inward; looks like a rabbit.

Whiskers wishes to touch him, love him,

Sleep by him, she wishes to feed him.

Some days she even wishes

To play with his tail,

To trim strong whiskers frail,

to clutch the chin tight,

to watch the rays shine on the shiny fur, bright.

But, the cat is pricy,

The cat is not a pet but a wild.

“Humans are not allowed to touch,”

He desires food for his meows mild.

If you try to go near, he hisses,

If you touch him, he glares,

If you try another time, he elopes

Only to return after three days.

Whiskers wants to become another cat

But, you cannot bell this cat,

If you show him a mirror, he sleeps on it,

If you don’t feed him, the chameleons are eaten alive,

The tongue rolls far and wide, strife ends the strive.

He is a cautious cat,

Whiskers is a die hard fan,

Yet, the cat is testing her patience fat,

Singing “what is my food, who is it, in the can?”

The girlfriend searches for him

But he hides behind the beam

Rubbing the whiskers,

Waiting for her to leave the grim brim.

She is lovelorn, carrying his love,

But, he leaves her food like a dove,

She smells him in the food,

Goes back happily, smelling her dude.

Whiskers stands and stares at the wondrous souls,

She tries to imitate them, live their lives,

Yet she could not make him her own,

Whiskers waits to grab him down

one day, if he frowns

Anymore, friendship and the crowns.

There was however one character in Shrum’s life who came around in 2011.

He can be happily called the

Pimp of her life

We can call him Mr.New Kumar.

In India Kumar is a surname like Kumari which means boy and girl if translated into English but strangely they remain Kumar and Kumari even after marriage.

If a Kumari gets married to a Kumar, she becomes a Kumar.

Funny can be names and their origins.

The pimp comes in December 2011, he is the pimp, so he tries to introduce madness in the life of Shrum.

How small things breed into larger things when the world is busy solving the larger wounds, the smaller ones fester and grow to make it big again.

Doctors say prevention is better than cure.

Through this character, Shrum learns a few very vital facts about the world.

1) All bikers are not like her, broad minded, happy go lucky fellows. Travel has not made them widened and outstretched, it has made them cynical. People who fear they would be killed while they are riding their bikes.

Or that pimp was not a biker, a barely thin reed, he posed to be one, so as to dissolve his own inferiorities and insecurities.

2) The world of imagination which ran wild in her mind was hatching in the breweries of some dumb heads, shifted to the pimp to act.

Well, not all imaginations can be channelled into thinking what the world finds beneficial if the protagonist thinks that way. Sorry about that, but then an imaginative mind is creative and not parasitic, growing on the wounds and life of others.

I think the perpetrators confused between imagination and symbiotic parasites.

Shrum was in no way parasitic, their efforts for years went in vain.

As readers, I am sure we all are aware that in India, as well as other lands a name can be given to many.

So in India, pimpish impish New Kumar can be a name to almost a ten thousand which includes synonyms and varied spellings of the same name.

The question was “Dis Shrum love not any?” The pimp could ride bikes, a biker was advertised by one of the managers under whom I worked leaning on the outer wall of Shrum’s cubicle.

The answer was a big “NO”

How can she when she was searching for a face. It does not matter what the face thinks…..outcomes don’t scare choices she makes in life and choices don’t influence the outcome in return.

Love for her was a being she knew she knew.

It did not mean she needed anything from that source.

If he had a life before Shrum would find it, she would definitely not do anything to ruin lives, she would live happily knowing there is another mammoth of her sort, another species.

Well, Mr. New Kumar was advertised by the manager.

New New was the song of the day…..everywhere you go, people were chanting new new new new….Hare Krishna hare Rama would have been better.

Even Jesus Christ!

Bodhi!

Om Naman Shivay or Om Mani Padme Hum.

That does not make a woman’s mind repeat the lines or go to any New Kumar nor even to the pimp of the show, sadly she could not convey.

There are a string of funny incidents which make this story.

Some point to the trappings, human trafficking of minds pulling people on their own will into activities they might not wholly appreciate doing in sane minds.

This happens everywhere and in India it is called

“Trapping of the fly.”

Well, you would see how the trapping was planned for Shrum, funnily and vainly designed.

The means used, the ends imagined and Shrum’s innermost reactions. Hilarious if I could call it. Yet, severely debilitating if you do not know the pros, cons and act out of fear or vanity or anger or jealousy or lust, you my friend would be doomed.

Brace for the impact and learn if you can anything.

Now, there are good girls and bad girls in towns.

In cities no one is good or bad- there is only one genre some are on one extreme a little bit more.

So Shrum was taught some rules and our life is bound by so many necessary and millions of unnecessary laws.

But, then she learnt other rules back in the megacity…..the laws she learnt were mainly how to not give signals that men do not run behind you.

Rule#1) If you do not look straight up while crossing a bunch of men they would think you are scared of them, a sense of domination will lead to further following up and other struggles.

No one told them that girls can also look down if there are gravels or the road stands slippery. If the road is not slippery then they can walk with heads held high.

Rule#2) Do not go in front of a man and tell them you forgot and in that point of time don’t give expressions where people think anything and everything about you.

You can feel nervous, scared or perhaps you don’t like to look at those eyes. What do you do then?

Rule#3) Do not look back.

How discriminating, how can you not look back if some normal human you know walks past, if you want to see a puppy or a beautiful horse?

Do men have no work that all the time they are on the road they keep noticing which girl looked back and which didn’t.

She didn’t think all are doing it, but yes some are and. Who they are? It is often important to know.

What about human sympathy, help that humans need on roadways?

Rule# 4) Do not trust anybody.

The day she was searching for a house and people refused help she knew what those words meant.

She got advices….

1) “Check the yellow pages

2) Go online.

3) Tell your neighbours.”

4) “Our house is already getting good rent you can check somewhere else.”

5) “You need to pay 50000 bucks baby we can’t help you without that, see I had convinced my uncle to give the house to you but then you got to pay him at least. If you don’t have ask from your father sweetie, you pay you enter, you don’t pay you don’t enter. Rules can’t change for friends, how can we trust you, that you will pay it in instalments? It’s a megacity babes.”

She knew she should have not trusted the day the director called her into a room asking her questions which made no sense to her then but she had to bear the implications later in the life.

The day she saw the daughter not trusting the mother in the house next door, she knew what it meant.

Well, then comes rules on how you should talk over phones when you talk to men you are interested in and not so interested in.

How what is done….if the whole world was to run on sign language then why confuse the she world with so many languages and teachings in different language?

So,

Just talk when required.

Just don’t smile whenever you feel something is funny. Laugh only when others find it funny and they laugh aloud. You can always join. Laughing always is a sign of advancement.

What about men and women who like to laugh then, who can find the fun and the pun in everything? What about the sherpas and lamas? Are they always advancing when they laugh aloud? What about Santa Claus so widely known and drawn with his laugh?

What about laughing Buddha? Why is it a good luck charm?

So, jolts and jerks she was set to attend the interview and get a job, she was hell bent on it.

The day before the interview she has the first jolt,

“Are you sure it’s not a call centre?” I had no way to confirm except the HR so I ask her, she says it is not. I am happy.

Next jolt,

The guy had a car and was carrying all classmates together. She asked, “Can I come?”

The big tooth Roukie did not allow, car was his by now and so was the other classmate, Penny.

So the PG mate tells her,

“You try the bus. I will get you the numbers from my boyfriend. Show them you can do it alone.”

Well, she did go, not to show them but to attend the interview, if that can be called showing them. Thanks to this Konkani friend from Mumbai.

Point to think about

If we can help why don’t we?

Given we know the person long enough to know we are no spies, thief, ghosts or witches. We are ordinary humans and ordinary beings, so we do not fall in any of this category. We are genuine normal humans trying to live day in and day out.

Cant help at such times.

Is competition so important? Can you actually win that way?

Question is, what do you win from it?

Not helping a person is in a way derogatory to human growth if there are no visible cons and pros, only assumed pros and cons.

We as humans prefer to come out clean every time, we prefer to remain hassle free, we prefer assumed pros and cons.

“If this happens or if that happens? Then what? How many that’s and this’s we live each day have you ever tried counting?

### You must hear all. But sadly whenever someone passes a comment or says something meant only for her, her ears beep. She though knows something was being said to her meant for her but she could never explain a fact so plain.

Reason: No one believes such trifle, it is often considered a shrouded, evil way to diverge all.

### You must understand eye movements. Eye to eye conversations.

Her vocabulary was limited, sorry about that.

She understood very few crude expressions alone.

Though she could sniff all, but she was indeed short sighted. She saw very less of what lay close to her. It made her a poor contender for spying on others, eyeing on others, she could sniff games and conspiracies but could never see them properly.

She was never fit to be a girlfriend ever. She could do nothing that other girls could do with so much ease around her, Literally after a time, her chances of finding that face vanished and vaporised, given she was not good at any of those things.