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As I said the other day, Hyderabad is a great place to die in if you have a bit of spare cash. Everything here operates on a turn-key basis...you just dial the number...they are a phone call away.
After the turn-key cremation of my wife was over, we made an appointment with the Chief Priest (the Lion) and traveled to the Parking Lot in the Necklace Road where we found him standing beside his Bolero waiting for us. After sizing us up, he asked us to leave everything to him and follow his instructions periodically given to us over his cell phone. He said he would book rooms and arrangements for the rites from the 9th day to the 12th day in the Bharat Sevashram Sangh (BSS) premises. And asked us to report there on the morning of the 9th day when the backlog rites of the previous 8 days will also be cleared.
As soon as I got down from our cab I was astounded to see a real Go-daan going on. A well-fed cow and her calf were being washed and turmeric paste and vermilion marks applied to the face and hind parts of the garlanded holy cow by two tonsured brothers reverentially.
The first indecent thought that crossed my mind was that we were in for a big hole in our pockets...the cow looked worth as much as Rs 50,000 and I was resigned to our Lion chalking up that hefty amount on our account when our turn came. And I was almost on the point of rushing and telling him to go easy on our own Go-daan but, as usual, a mixture of timidity, hypocrisy, and politeness prevented me from broaching the topic of filthy lucre then and there on the very first day of our engagement.
The Go-daan was over duly and the cow and calf were led away by the recipient of the cow-charity.
I sat down outside on a plastic chair watching the goings-on while my son was kept busy with the rituals in one of the rooms booked for us. A couple of hours later, another party came up with their Godaan nearby. The cow looked freshly washed but remarkably similar to the earlier one. As a teacher having had to teach hundreds of students, I acquired a phenomenal skill in recognizing faces (though I have a weak memory for names). So, on a second look, I discovered that the new cow and calf were not just similar but identical to the earlier one. And so did their minder.
Here I would like to mention something with faces that all of you also must have noticed: a counter-face (I mean the friendly face behind a counter like the one in the Post Office or the Bank) makes a very distinct impression on you by and by and you recognize it wherever you see it within the premises of the Post Office or the Bank. And then you meet it on the street one evening and it smiles at you...and you smile wanly back and start wondering where you had seen it earlier...searching among your friends and acquaintances and even your distant second or third order cousins. To absolutely no avail. You go to bed with the problem and wake up as seething as when you went to bed. Till you meet it next time behind its counter. But it doesn't help...
So it was the same cow and calf (there was only one pair) attached to the BSS that were being cycled and recycled for all the Go-daans held there...including our own forthcoming one.
This reminded me of the lone incident in my sojourn at my University when my name was read out and I was called up to the dais.
I was then in the 3rd Year of our 4-Year B. Sc (Hons) course and was attending the Farewell Function of our seniors. As usual I was seated in the back row of the Gallery. It was then announced in the mike that a well-off alumnus of our Department had recently instituted cash prizes for the best student at the end of the Second Year (Rs 100) and the Third year (a whopping Rs 200). None of these existed earlier on since the marks at these prelims never counted for the Degree...it was only the marks in the Final 4th Year Exams that decided the classes and ranks and the prestigious Sripati Medal.
And my name was announced for the best third year student and I was called up to the dais to receive the prize from the Chief Guest of the Function. I fumbled but reached the podium and was thanking God for sending me the windfall of a cash which was badly needed. But what I received from the Chief Guest with much background clapping turned out to be a book...oh well, I thought... a book is the next best thing. On my way down the dais I flipped the first few pages of the book and found that it had no Certificate attached to it nor a Dedication. On the other hand the first inside cover had the Call No and Access No of our Physics Department Library. It was a book I loved to possess...the Theoretical Chemistry by Samuel Glasstone.
Before I could relish my prize and get down from the dais, the Secretary of our Phy Society was waiting at the steps to snatch it away from me, saying that it was needed as the Prize for the best student of the Second Year (Kameswara Rao).
So, I could see that Glasstone was being recycled like the BSS cow-and-calf combo.
And at the end of the function I went to the Secretary and asked him what about my Rs 200. He asked me to come to his Hostel Room (315 of the Vinaya Vihara) tomorrow.
When I duly went there, he was smoking and partying with a dozen of his classmates (he was in his outgoing Final Year). And when I accessed him timidly, he said that there was a crunch with the Society Funds just then and asked me to come back after a month.
And I went there precisely after a month to find the Room 315 locked and allotted to a student of Chemistry of the next Final Year batch. When I met our G Sec on the road, he said that he was handing over charge to the next Secretary along with the funds and why not I take it from him after the summer vacation.
And the very first day after the summer vacation I caught the new Secretary and asked him to give my prize money of Rs 200 pronto.
And he looked at me puzzled and said:
"What prize and what money are you talking about?????"
...Posted by Ishani
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After the turn-key cremation of my wife was over, we made an appointment with the Chief Priest (the Lion) and traveled to the Parking Lot in the Necklace Road where we found him standing beside his Bolero waiting for us. After sizing us up, he asked us to leave everything to him and follow his instructions periodically given to us over his cell phone. He said he would book rooms and arrangements for the rites from the 9th day to the 12th day in the Bharat Sevashram Sangh (BSS) premises. And asked us to report there on the morning of the 9th day when the backlog rites of the previous 8 days will also be cleared.
As soon as I got down from our cab I was astounded to see a real Go-daan going on. A well-fed cow and her calf were being washed and turmeric paste and vermilion marks applied to the face and hind parts of the garlanded holy cow by two tonsured brothers reverentially.
The first indecent thought that crossed my mind was that we were in for a big hole in our pockets...the cow looked worth as much as Rs 50,000 and I was resigned to our Lion chalking up that hefty amount on our account when our turn came. And I was almost on the point of rushing and telling him to go easy on our own Go-daan but, as usual, a mixture of timidity, hypocrisy, and politeness prevented me from broaching the topic of filthy lucre then and there on the very first day of our engagement.
The Go-daan was over duly and the cow and calf were led away by the recipient of the cow-charity.
I sat down outside on a plastic chair watching the goings-on while my son was kept busy with the rituals in one of the rooms booked for us. A couple of hours later, another party came up with their Godaan nearby. The cow looked freshly washed but remarkably similar to the earlier one. As a teacher having had to teach hundreds of students, I acquired a phenomenal skill in recognizing faces (though I have a weak memory for names). So, on a second look, I discovered that the new cow and calf were not just similar but identical to the earlier one. And so did their minder.
Here I would like to mention something with faces that all of you also must have noticed: a counter-face (I mean the friendly face behind a counter like the one in the Post Office or the Bank) makes a very distinct impression on you by and by and you recognize it wherever you see it within the premises of the Post Office or the Bank. And then you meet it on the street one evening and it smiles at you...and you smile wanly back and start wondering where you had seen it earlier...searching among your friends and acquaintances and even your distant second or third order cousins. To absolutely no avail. You go to bed with the problem and wake up as seething as when you went to bed. Till you meet it next time behind its counter. But it doesn't help...
So it was the same cow and calf (there was only one pair) attached to the BSS that were being cycled and recycled for all the Go-daans held there...including our own forthcoming one.
This reminded me of the lone incident in my sojourn at my University when my name was read out and I was called up to the dais.
I was then in the 3rd Year of our 4-Year B. Sc (Hons) course and was attending the Farewell Function of our seniors. As usual I was seated in the back row of the Gallery. It was then announced in the mike that a well-off alumnus of our Department had recently instituted cash prizes for the best student at the end of the Second Year (Rs 100) and the Third year (a whopping Rs 200). None of these existed earlier on since the marks at these prelims never counted for the Degree...it was only the marks in the Final 4th Year Exams that decided the classes and ranks and the prestigious Sripati Medal.
And my name was announced for the best third year student and I was called up to the dais to receive the prize from the Chief Guest of the Function. I fumbled but reached the podium and was thanking God for sending me the windfall of a cash which was badly needed. But what I received from the Chief Guest with much background clapping turned out to be a book...oh well, I thought... a book is the next best thing. On my way down the dais I flipped the first few pages of the book and found that it had no Certificate attached to it nor a Dedication. On the other hand the first inside cover had the Call No and Access No of our Physics Department Library. It was a book I loved to possess...the Theoretical Chemistry by Samuel Glasstone.
Before I could relish my prize and get down from the dais, the Secretary of our Phy Society was waiting at the steps to snatch it away from me, saying that it was needed as the Prize for the best student of the Second Year (Kameswara Rao).
So, I could see that Glasstone was being recycled like the BSS cow-and-calf combo.
And at the end of the function I went to the Secretary and asked him what about my Rs 200. He asked me to come to his Hostel Room (315 of the Vinaya Vihara) tomorrow.
When I duly went there, he was smoking and partying with a dozen of his classmates (he was in his outgoing Final Year). And when I accessed him timidly, he said that there was a crunch with the Society Funds just then and asked me to come back after a month.
And I went there precisely after a month to find the Room 315 locked and allotted to a student of Chemistry of the next Final Year batch. When I met our G Sec on the road, he said that he was handing over charge to the next Secretary along with the funds and why not I take it from him after the summer vacation.
And the very first day after the summer vacation I caught the new Secretary and asked him to give my prize money of Rs 200 pronto.
And he looked at me puzzled and said:
"What prize and what money are you talking about?????"
...Posted by Ishani
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