Please stop thinking Scott Adams and i have a tie up to turn all of my blog readers
[2 and counting(since last 2 years)...] into moronic dilbert fans.
Even if we have collaborated, i assure u he isnt paying me.
ok i have exhausted my PJ quota for the morning and count urself lucky if this is my only post for the day.As these days i don't [P]joke in afternoons at all. That's the time MTV ticker runs full of them.
speaking of numbers, i have always been a big fan.
i remember how many
..runs sachin scored in 96 world cup [523],
..marks i scored in my VIth std chemistry test[9.5],
..times tresa wud pass thru the corridors for her labs in college[2,forth n back],
..times i have read sherlock holmes[umpteen],
..days i was sick wen i saw exorcist 3 [7],
..years later dr.license amma allowed me to drive the xing[2,watched f1 thos days!],
..calls IIMs and premier bschools gave me dis season[0],
..times i got employee of the month award[0, easy guess no brownie points there!]
..years I took to mature out [still counting..no stopping nytym soon by d look of it]
..times i bored people into wilderness and other despicable acts[ engineers its an infinite for loop, non enggs.its a vicious circle]
talking of numbers i cannot help but narrate a trivandrum folklore that's so embedded deep into the banking chronicles of the erstwhile princely state.infact his highness would vouch for it with his sword drawn out full length.lets not get up to dat point though..a sword is a sword.the story goes like this...
once upon a time wen customers formed snake queues and bared their banking fangs on a september 1st morning, a manager thought it was time enough to launch his young stud protege probationer[read hero] into the realms of cash counter...
for the uninitiated, the cash counter is a place in a bank wer u sit and thousands of people swarm around you, all wanting their loot of money from that pile in front of you, and would go any distance to get that (options available to them are to curse,abuse,hurl bricks,spit,snarl,bark,disembowelling kindred souls and shoot).
P.S. subject to individual ammunition availability and size of the cashier.
back to the story that reverbrates thru d bricks n souls of every tvm bank...
..in walks our gallant hero, like the trooping salman khan in veer,ther is suddenly a
shhhhhhhhhhhhhh in the gathering, as they eye him curiously from head to toe.hero wonders by the look of it all whether annual tvm gay meet'08 is today and settles in his seat..
hero had never seen a salary day rush at d bank before, and that too from the creepy confines of a cash window.to cut a long story short hero was tossed, wrecked n reduced to a bag of nerves at d end of 2 hours, counting,distributing,system data feeding, counting,distributing..counting...distributing..cash non stop..
sympathetic fellow bankers looked down as hero shut d counter for lunch break at 2pm.
wen he went to eat out at the local hotel, the blinding sunlight exploded into his eyes..he cud see only denominations everywhere..
long tall 1000rs buldings, the 50rs lottery seller, the magazine shop like a soiled 100rs note, vegetable shops full of 5rs coin aloo and 2 rs coin tomatoes...
and cheques of long queues of vehicles at the signal awaiting their turn...
the chapathi n veg curry smelled like mint fresh rbi notes...
and wen he went to pay at the hotel counter, first time in his life he tendered him exact change, smiled at the counter guy and said thank you.
that guys jaw dropped.
i have read somewhere that the last man to do so was M.K. Gandhi.
jaw droppable reason enough!
cash counters are the temples of modern India, said Jawaharlal Nehru once.
our Priest has no hesitation what so ever in agreeing hands down.
later wen hero closed shop by 3.30 pm, w/o further spectatcles the number game remained. he had to balance the days cash flow, i.e. how much came in n how much went and how much is left.
by now the hero who counted notes manually like a 3 year old at morning, was doing so like the black ticket seller by evening...
he found the tally to be a minor issue.
he ws found short of rs. 1,80,000.
means 1.8 lakhs which was shown credited to the banks' system records at his window, was found missing physically.
hero's first reaction was to go to toilet.
after some soul searching n dispersals, he came back and broke d news.
manager fainted.astonished colleagues started counting the mess.hero freaked out.
even the pune [who knew more than the PO hero anyway] joined in.
meanwhile hero went into number theory and probability for solace.
..how much shud i sell? how much wud 7 year old 3 pairs of levis and flying machines wud fetch at current market price...can i trade my grandfather gifted hmt watch under the priority antiques section of ebay...can i mortgage 1 year salary...what rate of speed can a non-athletic human body can sustain if i were to run non stop from TVM to satyamanagalm forests..wat r d alternate career options, do they still recruit naga sadhus....
it was then that aryabhatta and old saints came to his rescue[might be the naga probability appeased their heavenly souls..]
someone told him that he had entered a 0 more to a lady's account.
wow.
instead of crediting 20000 to her a/c hero had donated 200000.
an extra zero added by the sleight of hand in the keypad.
in banking terms, our hero was told, its christened as "oversight".
philanthropic streaks at an young age can lead to ascetic life styles, huh!
now that was the extra 1,80,000 bucks.hero gratefully thanked all.
hero's grandfather, for his erstwhile hmt watch, was probably a relieved man in heaven!
and yes i will remember this number story of our hero too, forever.
hope any unsuspecting reader, who was dumb enough to read dis much, wud remember it too!
hey sorry, u have got company,i forgot to tell u all...
some eminent writers are visiting my blog and emailing me off late.
i will drop u some clues...
he did his engg from dtii and amii..
he writes about different states of our country, showed the courage not to just use one index finger but the whole 5 to point at someone and blame...is always worried abt the mistakes of his life, particularly 3 or 4...and is so broke dat he spends nights at motels,railway sations and call centers...
u got the drift right?
excerpts from a conversation/chat between urs truly and the prominent writer..
PW: ding!
me: hello, u again? [arghh..]
PW: hey need ur help.
me: now what? i told u na, now write abt that investment bank job of urs..
PW: nope i can't buddy, waise hi i already sort of mentioned it in last book..
me: so whats up, heard u sent a pink chaddi to a@m(r k(-)@n?
PW: I had ordered it online 4 myself, but i typed the address field wrong buddy.
me: i've read that's his fav color, otherwise he wud hav tweeted!
PW: talking of tweets, thats my new thread.
me: [saved OMG]..yes yes..what's the grapevine like?
PW: meeting tharoor 2day,it's almost certain- i'm going to do his autobio,in twitter!
me: OMG, Holy Cow!
