A STRANGE FAREWELL

It is said that farewells are tough times for the near and dear ones. Here is one such for a friendship which had its foundations in contradictions. One loved to live life kingstyle. He adored every material wealth and aspired to acquire them. He also stood by anyone in the time of need and his weakness was an ego which refused to deflate under any circumstance and of course its handmaiden the liquor. The other was a teetotaller who believed that he could be a better influence than alcohol. The battle royale was fought over years. Acrimonious arguments laced with wit and humour formed the foundation of this strange relationship.

In the interim period, the alcoholic taught the values of visiting hospitals and attending funerals. He taught him the value of cultivating friendships. He demonstrated that goodwill was the only thing that lasted beyond one's lifetime by taking the teetotaller to funerals. On all occasions he justified his intake but not even in jest did he offer him a drink. Time passed and the habit turned him into a compulsive one followed by addiction. Desperation set in as doctors roped in the services of the teetotaller for extending his lifetime. 

There were others who believed that the "king" should not be deprived of any luxuries. Another battle front emerged. This post commenced when the teetotaller had to with a heavy heart accept the inevitability and brief the family. A valediction was found to be in order. But...

the "king" had his way! He turned critical and the post was abandoned in the works. By the end of the day, he is became he was. An attempt to give him a farewell tribute during his lifetime also failed. The man who had mastered so many things had become a slave of one which led to this moment. The wait ended. 

People streamed in armed with floral tributes. The teetotaller stood empty handed. No wreath. No garland. No tears. His attention turned to the family. He apologised for failing in his endeavour to wean the man from his master. He did not wait to cast a glance at his dear friend. Admitting failure, he started his search for a new mission. His take, the battle was not won by both it was the alcohol which lifted the trophy (pun intended)!

WARREN BUFFETS OF INDIA

The art of giving has been debated topic. The print and electronic media have placed the Warren Buffets of the world against the Unca Scrooges of our nation. as yours truly was skimming through one such report, the mind skipped merrily to a conversation a few days ago. The young boss had pointed out how miserly he had appeared in comparison to his chauffeur. Quite unlike Mr. Dithers of the Blondie strip. 

The chauffeur had apparently a distant relative who had acquainted himself on his arrival in the city. The distant relative had, thereafter, succumbed along with his spouse to a cylinder blast leaving two children who were battling for life. The grandparents dismissed these grandchildren as ill omens. This fellow who was there for the last rites could not leave them and left no stone unturned for their survival. One child survived while the other continued to be critical. A TV channel which covered the story sponsored the treatment while he adopted the kids. Neither the channel nor he made a fanfare of it. Naturally, he assumed the role of the poor Brahmin who gave away the flour which was meant to feed his family of which a portion fell on a mongoose which turned gold in the Mahabharata tale. 

These tales which strictly follow the golden principle that let not one hand know what the other gives. While the West follows the principle of propagation to encourage values, we probably still give without fanfare. The recent acts wherein the act of giving is in front of cameras, thus, goes quite against our traits. Any takers???