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Saturday, December 03, 2005

the boss is never wrong

The Boss rules our lives – right from the first kindergarten day to the day when we are laid to rest in the grave or on the pyre. It is the personality of the Boss that undergoes transformation. The basic philosophy remains – namely, to prove that we are inferior beings compared to him and have committed the greatest of blunders by disturbing the balance of Nature in trying to make our presence felt.

In school, the class teacher was the Boss – the words that came out from her mouth were as sacrosanct as the words of the Bible or the Gita. When she said – ‘Mary had a little lamb, its fleece was as white as snow’, we repeated. We accepted it in all humility – the name of the child could just as well have been Jerry. The fleece of the lamb could very well have been ‘as black as coal’ – that would have maintained the rhythmic character of the rhyme. But, no one ever dared to revolt, the tradition has been going on from the days of our grandfathers – and will continue.

When we entered the portals of higher studies, we had one Boss for one subject – his was the final word in the particular subject. He never tolerated arguments, in case you were stubborn and gathered up sufficient courage to cross-question him withy facts and figures, he would take it out on you during evaluation of exam books. Normally, at this period in a person’s life, he meets the girl – once again, she becomes the Boss. If you make an appointment for the six o’ clock show and you keep her waiting, you have plenty of explanations to do.

By the time you graduate and land your first job, you finally meet that gentleman who will be an integral part of your life for nearly half your life. He does not know how to laugh and hates those that do. He is always serious, is a stickler for punctuality, expects obedience at every step and, when he sees the moon in broad daylight, he heaps praises on others who share his vision. This part of one’s life is the most exasperating – one Boss at work, another at home.

As you arrive at the beginning of your twilight years, the baton passes on to your son who takes over the reins. He tells you what to do and what not to do. He admonishes you when you venture out in the night without your muffler or the monkey cap. He chalks out schedules for your medical check ups. He even gets annoyed at his wife if she does not give you your meals or medicines in time. Of course, there is a catch – you should have a reasonably healthy bank balance to expect such specialist treatment.

The Boss has always been a superior entity and will remain like that till doom’s day.


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