'Gorement' teas and loos

‘Tis the season of dolls and The Man from Madras Musings ought to be writing about it, imbued as he usually is with festive spirit. But this year, what with MMM having committed himself to several projects, most with tight deadlines, he is forced to speak of darker deeds. The Chief is not likely to be amused, but to be fair to the Chief, he did warn MMM, rather in the manner of Cassandra, not to get involved in those projects.

Chief among these is one to do with the Government. And as MMM gets deeper and deeper into the innards of bureaucracy, the more he appreciates the way those living north of the Vindhyas speak of the powers that rule as ‘Gorement’, thereby indicating that dealing with it is gory business.

Leaving aside the slowness and sloth, MMM also has much to say about the ‘Gorement’s toilets and teas. Both conform to a certain uniform standard and both are interlinked. Let MMM first hold forth on the tea. He is fairly certain that somewhere deep down in the rulebooks, there is one that stipulates the way tea is to be made. No doubt there is Rule XIII B, Subsection 91, Sub-clause D11 that states that notwithstanding Rule XX G, Subsection 62, the tea shall be of brick red colour, watery and overly sweetened, though at the same time having a bitter aftertaste. This is served over and over again and guests are forced to drink it. To refuse is to incur the wrath of babudom which, as defined in another standard text, has an eye like Mars to threaten and command.

That reminds MMM of a story that is worth retelling no matter that all of you have heard it before. Do you know of the man-eating tiger that hid itself in a Government office? Everyday it devoured a Secretary or two and nobody noticed. But came a day when it foolishly devoured the boy who dispensed tea. By 11.30 a.m. a full-scale departmental enquiry was launched, the tiger found and handed over to the local zoo. There is a version that it was killed but these are more sensitive times and even Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty have different endings for the stepmother. Even Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs is now re-titled as the Light Pigmented and the Seven Vertically Challenged. Moral of the tea story – it is not the Minister or the Secretary but the tea boy who turns the wheels of Government.

Be that as it may, MMM has to say that tea is on tap at these Government offices. Consequently, MMM has been drowning in tea, while waiting for other things to happen. And as you all know once tea is downed by the gallon, nature begins calling and asking what’s up. Which meant MMM had to go in search of the other great Government institution – the loo around the corner. Now if MMM had gone to meet some ordinary functionary he would have been airily dismissed to go relieve himself behind some tree or the other. But here was MMM, honoured guest of the great poobah himself. That necessitated an escort and what’s more a man trained in proper bureaucratese – he addressed MMM continuously in the respectful plural third person. “Sir we would like to go to toilet, yes? Sir let us go.” And so off we went, and by ‘we’, MMM means the escort and MMM.

Loo of the Law

MMM expected no surprises from the toilet. Like the tea, these too are governed by standard codes. The floor is always a watery mess, the taps in contrast will be dry though the pipes will drip. Cobwebs will abound and a broken WC or two will be lying around. Everything will be stained. But life is a great teacher and MMM was to learn a thing or two that afternoon.

The first toilet had its door firmly locked and what’s more, appeared to have been locked ever since the day a Minister inaugurated it. The escort smiled and said that “we” should try the one on the next floor. And so off “we” went.

This loo was open but as to what lay beyond was a great mystery. It was pitch dark and the only sound of life was a roaring torrent of water that appeared to be building into a whirlpool of sorts. Taking one look, MMM quailed and refused to take the plunge (pun intended). The escort was momentarily nonplussed and muttered something under his breath about lily-livered poltroons. He then assembled a regulation smile and said something about how the bulb had fused a couple of months earlier but a tender had not yet been floated for a replacement. MMM did not ask but he assumed that the waterfall inside was waiting for the floating (pun fully intended) of a tender too. The escort thought for a while. He then brightened and said there was one more loo in the next floor and we could try that. And so off we went.

This time all went well. The loo was relatively clean, though conforming to overall regulations. The escort opened the door with a flourish and having sent MMM in, firmly shut it. MMM went about his business and while at it took a look around. He could see that this was a toilet that was rather differently structured as compared to any public convenience he had used. It was not designed for the differently abled but it was somehow different. MMM could just not put his finger on it.

In the meanwhile there appeared to be considerable commotion outside. There were raised voices, mostly in a soprano while the escort’s voice was coming through as a powerful bass. Suddenly the opera reached a crescendo with the escort’s voice moving from A flat to F sharp. He became a tenor in an instant. This was followed by complete silence.

MMM emerged. The escort was nowhere to be seen. MMM went down the staircase and was puzzled to find everyone staring at him with a mixture of awe, fear and hostility. On reaching the ground floor, MMM found his escort, mopping his brow and giving all indications as to having emerged from a trying experience. MMM asked him as to what happened but he would not reply for quite a while. After repeated cajoling he came out with it. He had taken MMM to the ladies’ toilet as it “was the only one suited to men of stature like us.” MMM has since not gone back to that particular office.

Tailpiece

This story is not on loos, for a change. It deals with a job application that The Man from Madras Musings has received. It runs thus: ‘Please find my CV in the attachment. I am looking forward for an opportunity to expose my potentiality to bring forth my knowledge in different dimension in the position that I been placed.’

And so, on that happy note, have a good Dussehra and a happy Deepavali.

– MMM