Adventures of the Common "Middle" Man - Part III

(Please scroll through the earlier two posts)

He put the phone down and shrugged. I gave him a understanding smile that said a million words.

"So whats up?", he asked.

The start of my answer coincided with the arrival of another call on my vodafone. I looked at the screen hoping that perhaps this time it was some salesman trying to sell me some scheme on my post-paid card. That it would give me the pleasure of listening to someone other than myself doing the cajoling and begging for once. But the Gods blessed me with no such luck. It was another call that could make or break the nation.
He looked at me and gave me an understanding smile that said another million words. Thus with our conversation limited to just those three words, he waved and went on his way. When you are being paid to talk, there is no funding for chatting.

"Sat Sri Akaal, paaji. Ki haal hain?", I said.

"Oye, I am verry confuzedd yaarr. Tu menu ye bata, mujhe kya vote karna hain? Kyunki, jaha tak menu yaad hain, Sharmaji aye the aur bade acche se unhone explain kiya ke, ye Nuclear deal jo hain, woh apne desh ke liye kitna important hain. Isse desh ki kitne tarraki hogi. Aur government bacha toh kitne naye economic reforms layega. Kya iska matlab hain ke mein aur Sharmaji forr ke side se vote kar rahe hain?"

"Ji paaji.........dekho aap toh for ke side pe hi hain. Par aaj subeh se Sharmaji against mein chale gaye hain."

"Arre yaar yeh kitna confuzing karte ho tum log. Toh abb bolo mein kiski side pe hoon."

"For ki side pe, paaji!"

"Arre, I am not fooll. Woh samjha mujhe. Par abhi Sharmaji nahi toh aur kaun hain meri side pe?"

"Ji paaji, abhi aap ki side pe Guptaji hain."

"Arre kis jallad ki side pe dal diya mujhe!! Woh kamina mera jaani-dushman hain! Mein uske saath vote karu? Yeh nahi chalega."

A big mistake on my part, I immediately realised. Forgetting about such prejudices is unacceptable in my profession. It was time for damage control.

"Extremely sorry paaji. Par for ki side pe Surinder Singhji bhi hain. Woh toh apke acche yaar hain na."

"Sssh, arre yaar yeh baat kisiko pata nahi chalni chahiye. Top Secret hain. Jab usne party chodi thi tabhi maine usko TV pe bhar bhar ke gaaliya di thi. Woh bhi mera jaani-dushman hain, aisa log samajte hain. Yeh tumhe kaise pata chala?"

Two mistakes in as many minutes! Thoughts of retiring entered my brain. That my organisation knew the deepest secrets of almost all the leaders who ever thought of playing a part in politics was an open secret. But to flaunt it would mean the end. I recognised this situation as the one where whatever you say to put things right they keep becoming more complicated. The solution was to say as little as possible.

"Arre paaji aap aise kyun yaad rakh rahe ho? Sirf for mein vote karna hain ya against mein wahi yaad rakho."

"Hmmmm......okay. Mujhe for mein karna hain. Matlab government ke for mein. Matlab government ko bachana hain. Correctt?"

"Ji, sirji."

"Okay. Toh bolo. Bachau ki girau?"

"Bachao."

"Once more. Bachau ki girau?"

"Bachao."

"One lastt time. Bachau ki girau?"

"Bach....."

My airtel was ringing. I fished it out of my pocket urgently. The conversation was brief.

"Hello sir......yes sir.........Change sir?.........OK sir.........Fine sir.........I'll do that sir..........Thank you sir.........Good day sir."

I put the vodafone back to my ear.

"Paaji, change....................... Girado"

"Oye, teri maa ki......"




....................................................................................This could continue forever.