The Anniversary that coincides with India’s Republic Day

Today, on the 12th Anniversary of a great event in my life, the time has now come for me to officially document it in this blog. Some of you have heard me narrate the story and for the benefit of the few who haven’t, here is that very interesting event.

We first rewind to India’s first Republic Day of the new millennium – 26-Jan-2000. I was well into my 2nd year at work and it was also just more than a month since my family had purchased our first car – a Cyprus Blue coloured Maruti Suzuki 800 DX. I hadn’t gotten my permanent driving license as yet and was still on my learner’s license. Also, my car driving experience by itself was only 2 weeks more than my car owning experience. Given this situation, I used to drive the car at every opportunity, within my neighbourhood, to gain more experience and confidence.

On the date indicated above, two of my friends from school had dropped home. We then decided to go to the beach. Though the beach is barely 300 metres from home, I opted to take the car. And for reasons I just don’t remember or fathom, those two guys decided to take the bike and not come with me by car.

For such a short distance, it is always faster by bike and those two reached the beach first. I tried to get a parking spot near where they were standing, but couldn’t find one. So I had to drive down a little further, take a U-Turn and park on the other side of the road. When I reached the other side, I was driving slowly, looking for a parking spot. Also, I had my windows rolled down, probably because I didn’t want to use the AC for such a short distance.

Even as I was looking for a spot, some 2-3 guys ran across the road into the lane and appeared to be headed towards my car. One of them reached my car faster than his friends and punched my face! I just had no clue what was happening. Then they all asked me to step out of the car. I did and in a completely disoriented and nervous state, was asking them why there were hitting me. One of those guys was holding me by the scruff of my shirt/t-shirt and another one gave me one more slap.

I was barely aware of what was happening, when a crowd gathered around us. The 2-3 guys were hurling abuses at me and primarily accusing me of trying to run over them! I tried reasoning with them, but I think my voice box refused to pass on to the world, the words that my brain was sending to it.

All this while, the crowd around us was just enjoying their free entertainment for the Holiday. Thankfully, mobile phones especially those with cameras weren’t sold for dime a dozen, else, I would by now be on You Tube.

Anyways, out of the blue, two policemen, on a TVS Champ, came towards this gathering. The crowd finally swung into some action and dispersed. The 2-3 guys also ran away. Being the major சமத்து (innocent) guy that I am, I suddenly got worried that the cops would ask me for my license and on seeing my learner’s license, would probably take me into custody. So, I ended up doing a non-innocent act and fled the scene in my car. 

While you may be engrossed in the narration, feeling sorry for me (or more likely be ROFL), your attention should now be directed towards the two friends of mine, who have been absent from the narrative for the past 2000 words. They now make a re-entry.

When I reached home, I stopped a few meters short my gate, primarily to examine the damage to my face. Just then, my two friends came nearby on their bike and asked me what happened. They patiently heard me narrate the incident. With their support, it was now easier for me to enter my home. My parents obviously got the shock of their life seeing their son with a big blue patch around the right eye and a completely reddened face. We went over the story once again and that is where, I found out more about what happened.

Apparently, after I crossed my friends at the beach, they saw some 2-3 guys walking near the road in a very inebriated condition. A blue coloured car had gone past them and they were miffed by the proximity it had with them. These guys had seen the car go further down, couldn’t track where it really went and when they suddenly saw a similar (similar; not same) coloured car (mine) in the opposite direction, the alcohol in their blood stream made them decide that it was me who had almost run them over.

You would still be wondering why my friends didn’t come over to help. Basically, they first saw me go by; then saw this near-accident and then, they were just chatting and looking elsewhere (at someone I suspect). They saw the crowd gathering a few seconds/minutes later and had no clue that I was there in middle. In fact, they seemed to be looking out for me in some other direction. Only when they saw the crowd disperse and spotted my car also speeding away, did they realise that I too had something to do with that gathering!

Needless to say, they were continuously chuckling while narrating their side of the story.
I was then taken to the Doctor, who gave me some medicines and did some basic cleaning of the external wounds. My colleagues at work had a tough time in accepting that someone as innocent as me could get such beatings, though my boss strongly suspected (in front of my colleagues) that I got whacked by a girl’s sandals.

So there it is; Yours Truly has been a victim of a public beating also known as தர்ம அடி. 

The Iron Man

This has nothing to do with the superhero published by Marvel Comics. Nor does it refer to the great Sardar Vallabhai Patel. I am referring to the ubiquitous laborer found in Indian neighborhoods – the guy who irons our clothes.

When I was probably like 5 or 6, we used to give clothes that needed to be ironed, to a guy named "Ramesh" whose "shop" was a little far away. I have no recollection of the details, but somehow that guy moved out and we started giving our clothes to this other guy near the corner of our street. And for some vague reason, we used to call him "Suresh" for many years. The best part of it was that he never corrected us and it was quite a while before we knew his real name – Vittal.

Vittal was one guy whom I sorely missed during my stay outside India. One can narrate a whole lot of things that people miss while staying outside our country – starting from our family, to the home cooked food, to riding motor cycles etc. – but the one thing I always dreaded was seeing the pile of washed clothes that needed to be ironed, because I suck big time in ironing. I used to spend some 20 minutes on a T-Shirt and yet manage to create more wrinkles then what it picked up in the dryer.

Anyways, Vittal passed away a few years back and his spot was taken over by a young couple. In what was the smoothest transition of business/clients, everyone who was with Vittal was now with his replacement. I still don’t know this guy’s name but at home, we refer to him as "Jerry" and his wife as "Harihara Saasthrigal" since they apparently resemble people with those names, or so think my parents.

Even while Vittal was around, there had been a couple of days when he didn’t turn up due to illness. On those days, we used to seek out other service providers in the neighborhood. But one such guy who runs his business out of the next street, once told my father that he is not into one-off assignments. He was keen on taking up only long-term business. That was our first exposure to the business strategies of these Iron men.

A few months back, Harihara Saasthrigal had approached my parents for some financial help – basically, they are trying to get their kid educated in an "English Medium" school beyond their reach and are obviously struggling to meet the financial requirements there. We were not into that deep a relationship with these folks and we politely refused to heed their request. One thing we did tell them that since they were earning a respectable wage, they shouldn’t spoil their reputation by asking around for money ("gouravamaana thozhil panni sambaathikkireenga, ippadi ellaam kaasu kaekkaadheenga"). Obviously she didn’t take it that well and has been kinda avoiding our house. However, we were still giving our clothes to these folks.

Like most of us do every Deepavali, we procured sweets and savories for our domestic help, the people who deliver the milk packets, the garbage collector etc. and this year too was no different. But on that day, the Iron man and his wife didn’t come to our house like they normally do. We thought that perhaps they’d come the next day, but they didn’t. On the third day, since there was a pile-up of clothes, my father went to the shop and asked Jerry to come home and pick them up. He came after 5 minutes and after giving him the clothes, my parents asked him to wait and collect the Deepavali gift.

The guy very bluntly refused to take it. He said that since we had insulted his wife a few months back, he was not going to accept such gifts from us. He claimed that we had told his wife not to beg and ever since, he didn’t want our business. And it was only because my father always went to his place that he collected our clothes.

A mini scene was getting created and even our domestic help pitched in our support. At the end, the guy took the clothes and delivered them in the evening. It was obvious to us at this point that we had to look for a new Iron man. If this couple were taking a distorted view of what was mentioned, simply because they didn’t get what they wanted, then there is no point in engaging them for our help. Moreover, that woman is also well known in the neighborhood for being a big gossip and we now had to worry about our reputation as well.

Anyways, we now decided to take our business to a guy who was the brother of a lady who used to deliver milk at home. So my father went over to his shop and asked him to pick up clothes from home. This guy and his wife started asking where we lived. My father told him and their next question was "Why are leaving your current Iron man?" My father told him that we’ve had a misunderstanding and want to move on. Pat came the next question "Is that Iron man ok with me picking up your account?". My father said that since we are having a misunderstanding, it shouldn’t matter whether the old Iron man is okay with it or not. But the new Iron man clearly said that he wouldn’t come to our home and pick up the clothes, since it would be like intruding into that Iron man’s territory. So if we had to get this new dude to iron clothes for us, we’d have to bring it to him and pick it up later.

This was obviously not going to work considering the number of clothes that go for ironing. We invariably have some 15 or so in every bundle and lugging it around for 4 or 5 streets isn’t going to work. So, we decided to try another guy closer to our residence. This is the same guy whom I referred to in an earlier paragraph; the same guy who said that he’d do only big business and not one-off requests.

Here too, my father was questioned a couple of times as to whether the Iron man was okay with his business moving. After a couple of repeated clarifications, the wife of the Iron man said that she would come by in a short while and pick up the clothes.

So my father came home and was waiting. But there was no sign of this lady. He was loitering around our balcony when he noticed that the lady was now in the vicinity of the Iron man who had fought with us. There seemed to have been some sort of discussion and my father then observed this lady walk back to her shop.

Some 5-10 minutes later our door bell rang and when my mother opened the door, Harihara Saasthrigal was standing at our door step. Slightly bewildered, my mother asked her why she had come here. This girl then went on apologizing profusely for what she and her husband had said. When we opened the grille gate, she continued her apologies and said that she didn’t tell her husband that we had asked her not to beg. She said that he’d misunderstood what she reported to him and as was his habit, had talked to us in a rough manner.

She went on to request us to ignore the whole episode and continue our business with her. At one point she even fell at my parents’ feet asking for forgiveness. At that point, we had no choice but to forgive her and once again, Jerry and Harihara Saasthrigal are back in Fort Knox’s business.

But the main point to note in the whole episode was how these Iron men seemed to demand a No Objection Certificate from the previous vendor before we selected them as the replacement vendor for providing the ironing service. Perhaps they have an association or guild or an organization of some sort that has passed rules about these things. Otherwise in this day and age, I find it hard to believe that people are actually living by unwritten rules covering business ethics. It is tough to envision a similar approach from big corporate houses!