Saturday, February 1, 2014

Pointed & Pointless Questions

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"Was a new incumbent entertained for the post of the controller of stories and, if so, will the honourable minister quote the public service commission circular in this regard; what is the cost of this post and where are you going to get the money for it and under what head is it going to be charged and who will be the deciding authority and will you place on the table a copy of the auditor-general's remark in this regard," went on the parliament member, trying to get the minister into an entanglement of linked-up questions. The minister was familiar with such tactics and curtly replied, "The answer to A is in the negative, B the government is watching the situation, C the question doesn't arise, D see B, E it will not be in public interest....". He spoke so fast, without a pause, that the questioner got derailed and lost track of his own questions...

...RKN

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...Most of us in the class were hesitant in asking him questions in the first two weeks. He realized this and started asking questions one day to all of us about what he taught in the previous two weeks. This removed hesitation. We all started asking him questions. We discovered soon it is best to ask him as many questions as possible...

...KK

http://gpsastry.blogspot.in/2011/09/sweet-sixty.html



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We were very British when we reached our university at Vizagh in the 1950s. We were coached by our seniors that when we were introduced to one of them and the chap extends his hand and asks:


"How do you do?"

we were not supposed to reply earnestly:

"I had two loose motions last night and a vomit the night before"

but shake hands and ask back:

"How do you do?"

 without undue emphasis on the 'you' there like:

"How do you do?"

That about takes the cake for pointless questions.

And the most pointed question to me used to come from my auntie whenever I met her:

"What is your present pay?"

I used to bloat it up a bit and say:

"Rs 450"

And she would outdo me and remark:

"My son gets Rs 550"

No amount of my bloating used to help.

It used to be said in our homes that a man should never be asked his pay and a woman her age. Well, we were all government servants then, and there was very little secrecy about our pitiable salaries. The 'scales' used to be published in the newspapers and all that was secret was the initial increments one got which ranged from Rs 40 to Rs 60. 

Nowadays I hear that in the corporate world no one knows anyone else's pay...they simply get sealed envelopes on the 7th of every month, hopefully. The pay would be mentioned in a paper there which goes missing when the company is in doldrums. That is ample hint you look for a new job.

Coming to the age of women, there used to be never any agreement on this at KGP. Whenever the topic came up and I ventured that our new neighborani's age must be about 32, my wife would explode and retort:

"32! My foot! She would be 32 to up to her knees. She is at least 40 and perhaps dyes her hair"...which  would be the worst indictment one woman can pass on another.

Then comes the question that a new wife would ask her (new) hubby:

"How is the coconut chutney?"

The answers ranged from a studied silence to:

"Super!"

depending on several momentary factors.

Then comes the counter-question that a new hubby asks his (new) wife:

"How do you like the sari I bought for you today?"

Usually the answer would be:

"Hmm!"

unless...

The most pointless question a man asks his autowala in Hyderabad routinely is:

"Meter ok?"

There was this Raman Nair at KGP who ran the only canteen selling idli, dosa and such South Indian stuff in the 1960s. He didn't have a fridge, no way. So the canonical question one put to him as soon as one takes his seat was:

"What is best in today's menu, Nair?"

And he would smile all over his greying mustache and say:

"Upma is terrific sir!"

And then you order anything but upma, from masala dosa to onion uttappam. The received wisdom was that Nair was keen on getting rid of his 2-day old stale upma...reheated.

Sometimes old folks like me get caught unawares. The other morning my D-i-L, Sailaja, and I were riding down the elevator in a hurry to drive down to her bus-stop. And as usual I was lost in my blog-thought. And she asked what I thought was a rare question:

"New dress?"

I inspected myself and replied:

"No, this shirt was gifted to me by you all of two years ago!"

And she laughed and said:

"No, no! I am talking about the new outfit I am wearing today"

Caught and bowled.

At my age I think it is expected of me to bestow a smile on one and all here and ask, like:

"Raju! How do you do? Has your wife recovered from her surgery?"

Young Raju is my dhobi and he had said that he was late returning my clothes the other day with the excuse:

"My wife had an abdominal surgery and it cost me Rs 50,000"

Raju was pleased with my inquiries and replied:

"She is back home sir...could you please lend me Rs 1000 which I will surely return next Monday?"

This pleasant inquiry of mine about Raju's wife's health comes under the heading:

"Aah Bail Mujhe Maar!"

There is a petrol pump nearby where my son fills up his diesel tank and I my petrol tank...never together but. There is a middle-aged man who fills up our tires after the boy fills up our tanks. The air is supposed to be free but we tip him Rs 10 for every filling, hoping that he will put more air ;)


He routinely warns us about the urchins filling our tanks:

"Watch out sir!...these boys are scoundrels. Look keenly for the set-zero"

I asked him pleasantly today:

"How are you, Gopal?"

"Ok sir! I don't see your son these days!"

"Oh, he is filling nitrogen in his tubeless tires in the Hi-Tec City nowadays"

"Hmm! I just wanted to ask him if he could please find a job for my unemployed B Tech son"

"Where are jobs these days in Hyderabad, Gopal?"

"Bangalore would be ok, sir!"


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