Showing posts with label Eve day life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Eve day life. Show all posts

Sunday, June 01, 2025

Ode to common man

**Title: "The Great Indian Stress Relay – Why the Dog (and the Car Wheel) Always Lose"**  
### **The Daily Grind of the Common Man (Kolkata Edition)**  
Our hero, **Mr. Mondal** , wakes up at 6:30 AM to the sound of his wife’s battle cry: *"Ekhono ghumochho? Cha khabe na?!"* (Still sleeping? Don’t want tea?!)  

He performs his **free-hand exercises** (which mostly consist of stretching once and groaning twice), freshens up, and sits down for breakfast—a **single lukewarm roti** with yesterday’s alu sabzi because the maid didn’t come. His wife packs his **tiffin**—two slices of bread with a single piece of omelette folded like a confidential government file.  

### **The Great Metro Migration**  
Now begins the **journey to office**—a test of human endurance.  

- **Option 1:** His **scooter**, which hasn’t started properly since the 2016 demonetization.  
- **Option 2:** The **chartered bus**, where he is pressed against the window like a lab specimen.  
- **Option 3:** **Uber**, where the driver takes the longest possible route while humming *"Kolkata, meri jaan"* in a tone-deaf voice.  

### **Office: The 8-Hour Suspense Thriller**  
He doesn’t know what awaits him—a **last-minute report**, a **boss who just discovered PowerPoint animations**, or a **colleague who microwaves fish in the office pantry**. But he survives, fueled by **three cups of over-sweet office cha** and the dream of **evening freedom**.  

### **The Return Journey: Stress Accumulation Phase**  
By 6 PM, his soul is 60% caffeine, 30% repressed rage, and 10% nostalgia for the time when he thought adulthood would be fun.  

- **Scenario 1:** He **delays going home** because his wife has transformed into a **human complaint box** ("Shobai bhalo kore promotion peyechhe, tumi ki korcho?!" – Everyone got promotions, what are you doing?!). Instead, he goes to a **dingy bar** where the whiskey is questionable, but the company (other frustrated men) is worse.  
- **Scenario 2:** He **goes home**, immediately picks a fight with his wife over **who left the fan on**, she yells at their son, the son kicks the **innocent neighbourhood dog**, and the dog, being the only sensible one, howls at the universe.  

### **The Incident: When the Car Wheel Became the Ultimate Victim**  
One evening, as I returned home in my car, my driver **Gopal** (a man of infinite patience) was reversing near a crossing when **Mr. Frustrated Common Man** (let’s call him **Babu-da**) appeared out of nowhere, like a **ghost from a Bengali horror movie**.  

**Babu-da** (already fuming from office politics): *"Ey! Andho naki? Chokh achhe ki tor?!"* (Hey! Are you blind? Do you have eyes?!)  

**Gopal**, following my strict **"no reaction, only smile"** policy, gave a **goofy grin**, as if he had just been told a bad joke by a distant uncle.  

This made **Babu-da** even angrier. He leaned into my window, veins pulsating like a **dramatic TV villain**, and shouted:  

*"Tomar moto boro lok, gaadi achhe, kintu driver ke shikhoni nai?!"* (You rich people have big cars but can’t teach basic manners to your driver?!)  

I, too, followed the **Gopal School of Conflict Avoidance** and gave him the same **mild, unbothered smile**.  

**Babu-da**, now deprived of his much-needed **stress-relieving fight**, did the only logical thing—he **kicked my car’s front wheel** and stormed off, muttering about **"these rich people and their untrained drivers"**.  

### **The Circle of Stress**  
And thus, the **Great Indian Stress Relay** continued:  

- **Boss** yells at **Babu-da** →  
- **Babu-da** yells at **Gopal** →  
- **Gopal** smiles →  
- **Babu-da** kicks **car wheel** →  
- **Car wheel** (being an inanimate object) suffers silently →  
- Meanwhile, somewhere, a **dog gets kicked** by a frustrated teenager.  

### **Moral of the Story**  
In Kolkata (or any metro), **stress doesn’t disappear—it just gets transferred**. From bosses to husbands, wives to sons, sons to dogs, and finally, from frustrated commuters to **defenseless car wheels**.  

The only winner? **The local bar owner**, who profits from all this pent-up rage.  

**Final Thought:** Maybe the dog should start drinking too. 🍻🐕