==========================================================
"When we do not know a person -- and also when we do -- we have to judge his size by the size and nature of his achievements, as compared with the achievements of others in his special line of business -- there is no other way".....Mark Twain
***************************************************************************
In my SDM Homage I had mentioned the predilection of the SDM generation to seek to know as soon as an acquaintance is made (or about to be made) of his achievements.
If it is not impertinent, they would directly ask: "What are your achievements?" Otherwise they would like to get the lowdown somehow or the other. This could be due just to idle curiosity or to peg the pecking order that would make it easy to deploy the proper courtesy decorum and business demand.
In the Armed Forces, this is made obvious and imperative by the size, shape, color and texture of the Uniform, ribbons, insignia, epaulets, medals and so on and so forth so that it would be immediately obvious who should salute whom and who should report to whom, I guess.
This is perhaps very necessary wherever there is a 'Command-Control' Protocol. Otherwise there nay be chaos.
But, when some Army Officers used to be deputed for their M Tech courses to IIT KGP and were living in our Faculty Hostel, they would first approach our Manager and get to know the designation and salary structure of all of us inmates so they could follow their Army Protocol habits implicitly. This led to hilarious situations when a lowly Associate Lecturer whom they looked down upon in the Hostel turned up as their Teacher of an important subject. Perhaps they had to ring up and get instructions from the Army Headquarters what the correct Protocol was in such anomalous situations: maybe come to attention and salute him in the Department but brush him aside in the Hostel: but that won't do; the Ass Lecturer brings their Answer-scripts to the Hostel to evaluate and grade their throbbing hearts {;-}
With 3 growing daughters and no hope of promotion, MSS used to offer himself as the Civilian 'Major' (for which voluntary post there was a perennial shortage in our NCC Unit) in order to earn those few extra bucks for spending 6 hours weekly on the NCC grounds in his Army Uniform supplied by the NCC. But the Head of NCC, a 'high' Lieutenant Colonel deputed for a couple of years at KGP on a punishment posting, would be upset if MSS didn't come to attention and salute him on the KGP roads as well. And demand it not so discreetly. MSS, being MSS, apparently told his Colonel reverentially that while in civilian clothes he tends to forget the proper Army Protocol; and that the Colonel should remind him to salute him as and when he forgets. And the perennially 'high' Colonel agreed to this mutually satisfactory arrangement gleefully.
During my early years at KGP, I had to visit the Writer's Building at Cal a couple of times on some personal business . I was surprised to note that everyone there from the lowly Writer to the CM was dressed in impeccably white Dhoti-Punjabi, chewing paan and smoking Charminar and inhaling nosshi to boot; and a visitor had no way of knowing 'who is who' till the Bhadralok Officer enters his Plated-Office guarded by a proud Peon who was the only one in Uniform. Maybe the Vidyasagar Effect.
The Bureaucracy everywhere else insisted on their own pecking order. Everyone was aware who was the Under- or Joint- or Principal Secretary and who should report to whom. During my son's Baptism Ceremony, my father-in-law (a simple Railway Employee) happened to be sitting beside my IAS brother-in-law. My pop-in-law was at that time very proud of his family connection to the Chief General Manager of State Bank of Hyderabad. And he cordially invited my Madras-Cadre IAS b-i-l to Hyderabad so he could escort him to the CGM of SBH and introduce him to the eminence. All Hell broke loose in my b-i-l's bosom. It was only courtesy demanded by age that prevented him to let my p-i-l know that one phone call from the PA of his sub-junior in Hyderabad would fetch the CGM of SBH flying to his Chambers, and stopped peremptorily at his doorstep by his liveried Peon with his Brasso-polished embossed dawal.
But by and large in IIT KGP everyone was 'dada' to everyone else. My upcountry colleague V about whom I wrote in the blog-post: "A Nondescript Face" didn't know this in the beginning. He used to address every faculty colleague of his: Professor Khanna, Professor Chatterjee et al whatever Khanna's or Chatterjee's designation was; and expected to be addressed Professor V in return. But he was somewhat abrupt with non-faculty.
Soon after we joined, we used to visit the Co-Op Canteen for Tea and a fag. And when the Tea was not up to his cultivated taste, he used to shout: "Manager!" and when he came down, curse him in public. After a couple of these indecent incidents, the youthful Manager got to know the designation of V, and on their next encounter shouted back: "Coming, Ass Lecturer!" to the mortification of V for the rest of his short stay at KGP (He flew to California where the Protocol hopefully suited his taste).
*******************************************************************************
Our Anonymous Frost addict 'Posted this Comment' on: 'Post a Comment' rather aptly:
Revelation
We make ourselves a place apart
Behind light words that tease and flout,
But oh, the agitated heart
Till someone really find us out.
'Tis pity if the case require
(Or so we say) that in the end
We speak the literal to inspire
The understanding of a friend.
But so with all, from babes that play
At hide-and-seek to God afar,
So all who hide too well away
Must speak and tell us where they are.
-Robert Frost
*****************************************************************************
Tailpiece:
.............."We were in VS Hall then, segregated from the seniors. Two of my friends, one of them from my alma mater, were ogling at some of the lady visitors, and passing comments. Imagine their shock when they heard a deep voice behind them and turned to find it was Professor Arora, "Nice, isn't she?" Professor Arora proceeded to put them at ease, and began discussing one of the women in greater detail, much to their initial embarrassment, but soon my friends joined in thinking this guy is so cool, and so on. "Nice, isn't she?" he repeated. "Has to be - she's my wife"..................
........'Anonymous' from 1994 Diwali Illumination Contest @ IIT KGP
========================================================================
No comments:
Post a Comment