It's cold.
My hair vaguely resembled straws of salt and pepper, neatly parted to my right. I normally ignore the greys despite my age, but today it stood out almost yelling its likeliness to my mood. The lump in my oesophagus felt like an irritated insect gnawing away at my throat, making it itch. The insect's wrath was felt by my head and eyes, the former aching and the latter watering. My lips were dry and the constant pounding itch pushed my tired legs into the bathroom. My hands cupped the water from the basin and in a swift movement washed it down my throat.
Insects hate water.
As I spat out the gargle, the pain subsided for a mere moment only to itch its way back with renewed vigour and rage. The insect was angered by the sudden gush, and I was paying the price.
I rushed now to the stove and waited with my droopy watery eyes and aching head for the water to heat. As it reached boiling point, I put my numb finger in the water only to find no feeling of warmth. yet, I poured it out into a glass and drank.
Slowly this time. The insect mustn't know.
As the soothing warm water caressed my inner pipes like molten lava, I felt my head letting go of its binds and my eyes sipping in the water. My lips were salivating and the dryness in my throat was gone. As the lava reached my guts, I felt the insect in me burn like a piece of paper subject to the wrath of the sun.
But it lived. The insect lived.
lava wasn't strong enough. The insect had me in its grasp. Although I told myself not to fall prey to its itch and demands, I found my hands go for the refrigerator and take out an ice cold bottle of water.
H2 WOE.
The insect was screaming now. In joy, as it anticipated the bacteria from the icy chills of the bottle to join it. It was to be fed. Like a parasite that it was, it had strayed into a much stronger being and made him fall to his knees.
As I sat kneeling beside the fridge, I felt my head burst again with heat. My throat dry and my eyes watery.
The Insect had won.
It's cold. And I hate parasites.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
"Fuelling" The Fire
You had stock on 30th June, I said. I was in what I refer to as - the Auditor's element!
Diesel prices had just been slashed, bulk orders were on the rise and clients like mine, needed wholesale purchases in these times of global slow down. Yet, my client chose to buy 100.2 Lac Lts from the open market. A clear Rs.5 extra spent per Litre of diesel purchased.
I repeated myself to the finance executive, who looked lost and a little tired. His eyes sunk in, and his shoulders drooped. Poor creatures these finance guys, having to take a lot of flake from all quarters. It was 9 pm. His mind was probably on the canteen that was about to close in the township. Slowly his lips showed signs of movement and he murmured something that sounded like I'll get back to you. My subsequent smile must have zapped out the last bit of energy in him. Sensing this, I pursed my lips and decided to call it a day.
I took the long walk back to the township, with my finance friend for company. He still looked battered, as if the staff bus had just run over him!
Something bothering you? I asked. My theatre arsenal also possessed the gift of camouflaging my intentions. Yes, the devil was at work and there was that wee bit of sarcasm in my otherwise concern oriented question. He looked up suddenly and gazed at me for a couple of seconds and then returned to staring at the more comforting ground. The stone he kicked whacked the gate of the factory and woke the security on duty. The grumpy old watch was miffed and made no bones in showing his anger on my companion. The harsh words from the security guard further dampened my friend's non - existent spirits. His face lost colour and he vaguely resembled a grey lizard with no agility.
I don't understand what I am doing wrong yaar, He said, his voice barely audible despite the cold silence of the night. I smiled the smile that was meant for comfort, but I was certain he took the gesture to be one of victory. Realizing this, I took a more open handed approach. If you're worrying about the diesel, don't bother, the stores department are to answer that, not you.
But I am the one making the payment na?!, he said nearly in tears. At this point, I felt he was taking too much on to himself. Let's not jump to conclusions shall we? It's a valid point I have got. And everyone involved will have to be pulled up. Why are you buying and consuming diesel when the same is with you? Why are you buying diesel on retail instead of bulk? These are not answers a finance guy can give. I then smiled the comfort smile and this time it DID comfort him for a second, he then returned to brooding.
Well, you're a finance guy. And these questions came to you didn't they?! Yet they did not strike my brain yaar. I'm an idiot. I didn't quite get why he was being so hard on himself. Yes I had just stopped over 50 lakhs being paid in excess, but that seriously did not warrant such sorrow.
You are being to hard on yourself, I said. The devil at work was laughing. Here I was, 20, and barely a finance guy, and there he was 26, qualified and married, yet he refers to me as a finance guy.
The rest of the walk was sullen, yet a little more cheerful than before. We bid ourselves goodbye on reaching my room. I smiled to myself as I watched him walk towards his room in the opposite direction, occasionally blowing out air from his mouth is a huff and clicking his fingers in sheer agitation. I walked in to find my room neatly decked by the housekeeper. The aberrations in his performance seemed to have ceased since I had found out he had been nicking the company's gasoline.
As I changed into my night wear and lay down on my warm bed, my cell phone beeped an incoming text message. My friend, the finance executive, thanked me for my "comforting" words.
I laughed. The devil too was laughing. The devil wanted me to reply the truth, but good sense prevailed and I sent a thanks. The truth? Well, what my friend the finance guy failed to understand - was that he wouldn't have required any comforting words, let alone from the person responsible for his present predicament.
Diesel prices had just been slashed, bulk orders were on the rise and clients like mine, needed wholesale purchases in these times of global slow down. Yet, my client chose to buy 100.2 Lac Lts from the open market. A clear Rs.5 extra spent per Litre of diesel purchased.
I repeated myself to the finance executive, who looked lost and a little tired. His eyes sunk in, and his shoulders drooped. Poor creatures these finance guys, having to take a lot of flake from all quarters. It was 9 pm. His mind was probably on the canteen that was about to close in the township. Slowly his lips showed signs of movement and he murmured something that sounded like I'll get back to you. My subsequent smile must have zapped out the last bit of energy in him. Sensing this, I pursed my lips and decided to call it a day.
I took the long walk back to the township, with my finance friend for company. He still looked battered, as if the staff bus had just run over him!
Something bothering you? I asked. My theatre arsenal also possessed the gift of camouflaging my intentions. Yes, the devil was at work and there was that wee bit of sarcasm in my otherwise concern oriented question. He looked up suddenly and gazed at me for a couple of seconds and then returned to staring at the more comforting ground. The stone he kicked whacked the gate of the factory and woke the security on duty. The grumpy old watch was miffed and made no bones in showing his anger on my companion. The harsh words from the security guard further dampened my friend's non - existent spirits. His face lost colour and he vaguely resembled a grey lizard with no agility.
I don't understand what I am doing wrong yaar, He said, his voice barely audible despite the cold silence of the night. I smiled the smile that was meant for comfort, but I was certain he took the gesture to be one of victory. Realizing this, I took a more open handed approach. If you're worrying about the diesel, don't bother, the stores department are to answer that, not you.
But I am the one making the payment na?!, he said nearly in tears. At this point, I felt he was taking too much on to himself. Let's not jump to conclusions shall we? It's a valid point I have got. And everyone involved will have to be pulled up. Why are you buying and consuming diesel when the same is with you? Why are you buying diesel on retail instead of bulk? These are not answers a finance guy can give. I then smiled the comfort smile and this time it DID comfort him for a second, he then returned to brooding.
Well, you're a finance guy. And these questions came to you didn't they?! Yet they did not strike my brain yaar. I'm an idiot. I didn't quite get why he was being so hard on himself. Yes I had just stopped over 50 lakhs being paid in excess, but that seriously did not warrant such sorrow.
You are being to hard on yourself, I said. The devil at work was laughing. Here I was, 20, and barely a finance guy, and there he was 26, qualified and married, yet he refers to me as a finance guy.
The rest of the walk was sullen, yet a little more cheerful than before. We bid ourselves goodbye on reaching my room. I smiled to myself as I watched him walk towards his room in the opposite direction, occasionally blowing out air from his mouth is a huff and clicking his fingers in sheer agitation. I walked in to find my room neatly decked by the housekeeper. The aberrations in his performance seemed to have ceased since I had found out he had been nicking the company's gasoline.
As I changed into my night wear and lay down on my warm bed, my cell phone beeped an incoming text message. My friend, the finance executive, thanked me for my "comforting" words.
I laughed. The devil too was laughing. The devil wanted me to reply the truth, but good sense prevailed and I sent a thanks. The truth? Well, what my friend the finance guy failed to understand - was that he wouldn't have required any comforting words, let alone from the person responsible for his present predicament.
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