Street level bureaucrats

 They are functionaries dealing with customers and the public. Police and teachers are prime examples. We can add bank and post employees, front office staff in hospitals and public utility concerns.

Since they deal with a variety of situations, they have to solve problems, react on the spot. They are mostly on their own. They are the final representatives of their respective organizations. It is not possible to anticipate and prepare for everything they are going to face on the ground. Therefore they enjoy a degree of autonomy.

This is a formulation by the labour economist Michael Piore. What are its implications and what change do they lead to in organizational design?

I do not know. Need to think more about this.

However, reading about street level bureaucrats was nice. I used to experience a peculiar kind of fatigue while dealing with students. The variety of human minds I encountered was baffling. Before I developed a deadpan expression and a brusque approach, I used to be conscious of judgmental errors: unnecessarily tough with unknown good students and giving in to false students who cultivated charm.

No teacher talked about it. So reading Piore was a relief.

The wealth creator, part 2

 He used to follow clients around but had his own office. He moved to a better one so as to be near his clients. He was proud of the internal decor of the office, particularly its small conference room. I was invited there many a time and I visited once.

Then there was news of moving to another office. I had retired by now and he made sure that my lump sum retirement benefits went to him for investment.

Then there was silence. Corona struck and for over a year, there was an absolute lull in business. Online work of the son continued. Corona helped ensure that digital work had an upper hand from now on.

Taxation law changed and dividend on equity started getting taxed in the hands of the holder also. I had to change my investments from dividend to reinvestment option. I called him. He said he would soon help me with the shift but he never called. I realized that I had ceased to be further interest to him. I had to send a copy of short story collection to persuade him to take the necessary steps.

Another year was over. I tend to forget past lessons and so I am doomed to repeat mistakes.

I decided to visit him recently at his place. He had invited me and I had ignored the invitation. I thought I would meet him at his place as a relative. However, he took matters out of my hand and diverted me to his new office. A posh office and a very good address. He was to soon move into the same building, top storey flat to stay. His present flat would be soon up for redevelopment, he informed me. He had thought of selling it to buy the new office and house but it was not necessary.

So he had definitely moved up. There were signs of wealth everywhere. The contacts he spoke of were also very well-placed. He seemed content and happy. He was creating fabulous wealth.

I came back clearly dismayed. There was no personal touch; it was all business from now on. I would not even be his client now, the son implied. They had to entertain me as an old client but clearly I was of no use to them.

Does material progress always demand the price of human relationships and contacts?

The wealth creator

 He was very quiet to start with. Some investment by my father brought him over. Then he sensed that I could be his client.

There was no small talk. The few things he said could all be called shop-talk. We had known him when we were young. He used to cultivate sarcasm then. Now it was a bland face he showed us.

However, he was very humble in spite of his well- off background. He would go to visit clients at their homes and he was very punctual. He remained focused throughout the conversation and never forgot any promises he made. He would systematically follow them through. That and his punctuality were impressive. We used to meet in restaurants and he would never forget to get my signature on the dotted line. He brought gifts too: diaries, coffee packets. It was a mixture of family linkage with business.

He helped me fructify my idea of an add-on course for students on his line of work. I made contact with his contacts; he helped me with the course syllabus and suggested guest speakers. The course was a success. He took personal interest in the course and looked upon the students as his potential clients. The course was off to a great start.

His son joined him in business and he was relieved. Succession was not a problem now. It is the bane of nary a small business.

The son naturally had different ideas. He persuaded his father to open an office and expected clients to visit them in it. Going to clients soon became a privilege for older, wealthier clients. The new generation is quite rude in talking to clients, he told me once. He bought an SUV for the son.

One of the faculty members at our add-on course told the students never to make clients of relatives as it invariably led to souring of relations."I beg to differ" he said but did not elaborate. He had approached only relatives in the beginning. The clients start wondering if the advisor actually has, always, their best interests in mind or does the advisor shuffle the portfolio unnecessarily to earn more income. "If you do not trust us, there is no point in continuing." the son would loftily inform the clients.

Shocking incident

 I am used to hearing other teachers talking about their students and how well they have done in life etc.

My experience today is just the opposite. Maharashtra Times of 3 November 2021 has reported that a student of mine with her husband was apprehended by the police at Delhi international airport; they were trying to fly to Sri Lanka to escape. The couple was absconding ever since investors had lodged complaints against their investment company. The amount mentioned is Rs. 3.37 crore rupees.

The amount is not much by today's standards. I have become uneasy because of my student's involvement. She was a bubbly girl, full of beans. She resembled the actress Tanuja and had the same carefree manner. The junior college did not come up to her expectations but in the senior college, she had a nice group and things clicked. She could take part in all extracurricular activities and was popular. While doing M.Com. she did a business on the side of selling her notes to other students.

Then she married her friend since childhood. The hitch was that he was from a different religion and though her mother relented, her father did not. So she eloped but looked happy. Then I lost contact with her but I would see her photos occasionally on page 3. She looked glamorous and different. I had a feeling that she had become different.

And now this!

I am disturbed because a charming student of mine has ruined her life.

Urban living

 The morning yesterday was Sunny but it started raining in the afternoon and continued to be wet. At around 3.30 p.m. I went to the terrace for a minute and my attention was caught by a fire in front of me, in the army institute. I thought they were doing some torch carrying exercise. But the fire got bigger and made an ominous hissing noise. I looked closely. A branch of the jacaranda tree on the boundary had caught fire! The fire was getting bigger. It started raining and it was extinguished. I came inside.

The drizzle stopped and I heard a bigger sound, the branch had fallen. Some young people on the road were shouting but there was no letup in the continuous traffic.

Something had got to be done. I called the fire brigade station nearby. A person sought the details and then advised me to contact the power distribution company. It had three helplines. All were busy. I kept calling. Got through and was met with a prerecorded message. It was repeated in Marathi, English and Hindi. I waited patiently. Then I had to feed my 12 digit consumer number. Then the service got stuck. I fed the number four times but to no avail.

I could not quite turn back now. Kept calling the number. Reached the call center staff and the phone was stopped. Two more tries. Nothing happened when I pressed the option for power supply off (power was discontinued by then) and so next time I chose the option of emergency. Finally got through. Gave the details of what I had observed and told them that the fire was now out due to the rains. Added that I was stuck on their helpline and that at the beginning of the rainy season, I had contacted them to tell them about tree-cutting but I was pooh-poohed.

Nothing more could be done and so I got busy with my reading.

When power supply was restored after two hours, I checked outside. The tree had been pruned. After half an hour I got a message saying that the problem I had reported had been resolved.

Afghan students I met

 The plight of Afghans, particularly girl students, in Taliban rule is making news all over the world. While reading the news items, my mind went back to Afghan students I came across while teaching in college.

There were these three students who turned up in my class towards the fag-end of the first term. I was teaching a good subject which unfortunately was found tough by students and it had no textbook. The three fellows did not appear to understand anything. Their admission through the university had been delayed. They came again only once to the classroom. They had a major difficulty in understanding English. They had rented a place in Nanded City on Sinhagad road. I was surprised because it was very far from the college and the township was very upscale. They had no money for petrol or even food. I decided that if they came again I would carry Shrewsbury biscuits for them. But they just disappeared. I contacted a senior Afghan student in the college and asked him to help these babes through the Afghan student's association. Then I met them straight at the end of the year when they pleaded that I pass them in the examination. I ignored them.

The senior student I had contacted had settled well in the college. He could pick up English reasonably well and he did an add-on course on personal financial management that I ran in the college. He was active and well-behaved. His family ran a duty-free goods shop in Kabul international airport and he told me that he implemented the tips we handed out in the course e.g. write down all expenses, develop a budget for major events etc.

Then there was this girl who was very determined to make the best of the opportunity of studying in India. She attended all lectures and was the first one to get up whenever I asked a question in the class or we had a discussion. In the beginning I liked it, then her response started getting on my nerves. I put her down rather sharply in the class. Another teacher told me that all Afghan students hated her and did not talk to her.

And finally there was this student whom I never taught but who was noticeable in the campus because he took part in all the extra-curricular activities. He was writing his last year final examination and I was the senior invigilator. A flying squad from the university came to check the conduct of examination and caught this boy with copy material on his person. The squad deposited it with me and asked me to take action. I asked the student to leave the examination hall. I had not decided whether the rest of his papers should be cancelled or not. He started crying and wailing. Very surprising as I thought Afghans were very manly. For an hour or so, the boy stood sobbing and pleading with me. My explanation that the squad had caught him and so nothing could be done fell on deaf ears. My simple question: why did you not study and why copy, went unanswered. The college building continued to echo his loud cries.

After half an hour the Principal came to me and said he was a good student. "What if tomorrow it transpires that the squad made a mistake? Where would we be? He would lose a year unnecessarily." She asked.

"What are you saying? The squad had given me the copy material. This is the evidence. How can there be any mistake?" I asked aghast.

It was clear that the Principal wanted him to continue his paper. "He has already lost an hour. If he fails, it won't be on our head."

So the college was to simply carry out examination without taking any routine punitive action. What devaluation. Principal seemed fine with it.

I was disgusted but it was my last examination and I quietly complied with her instruction. The boy went back happily to write the rest of his examination. The saving grace was that he failed in that paper finally.

Thus Afghan students appeared to have major difficulties in their studies. They were casual and not very bright. Yemen students, on the other hand, used to be very sincere and studious. Unfortunately their entry stopped due to the civil war in Yemen.

My experience with Amazon Kindle Direct Publishing

Having done a fair amount of reading on the life of memsahibs in India in the 19th and 20th century, I wrote on it, organizing my information in a cohesive manner. The manuscript was submitted to a Marathi publisher. Their editors called me over and suggested some changes which I carried out and they told me that they would go through it again. I took it as a provisional acceptance.

Then Corona struck and Marathi publishing came to a standstill. My hopes were dashed as the publishers were totally non-committal. 

As a way out of the inactivity and boredom, I started writing a novel on the life of memsahibs. As usual I made a rapid start and then things became slow. Had to push myself and somehow completed the project. It had a hasty ending.

Amazon sent a message about their publishing competition in India and suggested I could enter my new book. Why not, I said to myself and entered Empire in the competition. I had to publish it on Amazon first. The e-book was not a problem but the print version was. Only the e-book was enough for entry.

It did not make the grade. 

Then came another message about advertising the novel on Amazon. I demurred. They offered to run a short campaign for me but I was not interested.

Then one workshop about how advertising works on Amazon was organised online by Bryan Cohen, an American. I enrolled because I wanted to know the details.

I created some five ad copies and ran them while doing the workshop. The online ads are basically about choosing keywords and finding an appropriate category for your work. I settled on historical biographical fiction. Did not choose women's fiction. Had to generate some 100 keywords during the course. Then came the writing of the ad copy. I enjoyed learning all this. Unfortunately, my ads generated some clicks but not a single sale. During the course, it became clear that authors were expected to keep writing - whole series of books or independent books. One person in the community even declared that he wrote and sold low content books!

I was dismayed at the lack of response but then realized that the novel was a misfit. Everything on Amazon is governed by quantitative metrics. Quality did not come into it.

Things became clear after this realization. Also understood then why two libraries whom I had requested to look at my novel gave it a short shrift.

So Amazon KDP has no truck with quality. Indeed there is no editing or curating of the content. I think I will soon get Empire unpublished from Amazon.

Second chance

 

Super excitement of the day had made Kim’s brain overcharged. She could not sleep. This was recipe for disaster the next day as she knew well. Just when – it must have been 2 a.m. at least– she was dozing off, the phone rang.

“Hi baby! I will be passing through your town tomorrow. Can we meet for lunch?”

Stephen was on the line. Wow! Lunch! Barely three months ago, he had disappeared into thin air and did not have time to return her calls. Kim wanted to berate him but did not know where to begin. She just switched off.

Now her chances of sleep were gone. She had trusted Stephen and had assumed that he would have the courage to tell her straight that things were not working out. Why did she trust him? Because of his polished talk and professorial appearance? Or because she badly needed to trust someone? She thought it was the latter. He turned out to be a two-timing sod like the rest. Still they had some great time together in the beginning.

“Don’t think of the past. It is over. Don’t think of unpleasant things that have happened. Think of the future.” Kim chided herself and took a deep breath.

“Think of the fresh air entering your body. The nostril, throat, lungs and heart. Loosen your body and don’t think of anything else.” The newspaper spiritual column had advised. She tried to follow it.

Another ring! Kim was about to ask Stephen to buzz off but it was her step-dad! Honey was dripping from his dulcet voice but she was frightened. Why? How did he get her number? Was Mom alright?

Kim was as tongue-tied now as she had been before she left home.

“I heard the news. Congratulations! Your mom and I will be happy to host a celebration and have you back home.”

Her flesh crawled. No way was she going to spend another night under the same roof with him. He was the reason she left home in a hurry, abandoning her college term.

The only two men in her life had turned her world upside down. She thought she had just been able to distance herself from them and gain a modicum of peace and here they were, one after the other, reaching out to her! Sweet, sweet is the power of money.

     ______________

Sleep deluded Kim that night. Bleary eyed and groggy, she opened the door of her flat for the morning paper and hastily closed it when light bulbs flashed in her face. What was happening? This, after last night, was too much and she collapsed behind the closed door.

Sanity returned as she struggled to get control of her breathing. Five deep breaths cleared her foggy brain a little.

She had become a celebrity although she had not, in any way, done anything to deserve this new status. She had to get a grip over herself and take a stand. How otherwise would she get on with her life?

Kim mustered her strength and resolutely opened the door again.

Newspaper men with their cameras were ready. Nobody had gone away. They knew that sooner or later she would have to open the door.

She looked at them and gave them a sweet smile. Someone thrust a microphone at her.

“Hi. Let me make the most of my fifteen minutes of fame. I had heard of a postman always ringing twice. But lady luck smiling twice on some humble soul? I guess that makes me special. Otherwise I am a below par working woman. The real hero is Ajit Shah. You should be reaching out to him.” Kim said.

Some people tittered.

“What are you going to do with the money?” Someone asked.

She thought for a while. She had not had time to consider it so far.

“Buy a house, quit the job and get on with my studies, I suppose.”

She flashed them one more smile and closed the door.

She had not forgotten the newspaper.

Her news was on the front page. All the details were there. Her old photo from the college admission office had been dug up.

Oh! She looked so chubby and carefree in it.

Now she was all pinched and haggard. But no matter!

     _________________ 

Living on one’s own, in a new town was not easy. It was always at the back of Kim’s mind that after graduation she would move out but she had not prepared for it. It was far tougher than she had thought.

She chose this town because her best friend’s parents stayed here. The friend helped her with a few leads for waitress jobs and got her parents to join her for house-hunting. That was a smart thing to do because otherwise Kim would not have got this flat in a decent locality. It was very small but Kim kept it clean.

The job too, was tough. Kim was tired on her feet every day as she came home in the late evening or mostly, night.

 “Tips would make up for the stingy pay. Otherwise you would have to fold tried out clothes in Walmart and then you’d really struggle.” Her friend told her. That was true enough but of late Kim had started hankering after Walmart rather than face this daily ordeal of keeping leering looks and pawing hands away as she took orders and served.

All that Kim really wanted was being with Mom and attending her Sociology classes in college. Dr. Julia Tomlinson had given the students such interesting assignments that they were all hooked. Kim had hesitantly begun to express her views in the essays she had to write and it literally felt that new vistas were opening before her. Library research, preparing bibliographies for Dr. Tomlinson’s research projects, helping her to put the departmental newsletter together, skimming scholarly journals – there were a thousand exciting things to do!

Kim even managed to bury her sense of dread at home once she reached college. Her step-dad’s behaviour had changed in an unmistakable way. She felt his gaze following her at all times. It burned holes in her back, she felt. She had never liked him but he had not harmed her before. Now she was tense and worried in his presence. Mom seemed oblivious though.

That night when she suddenly awoke with a start in her room and found him bending over her. It was the last straw. She was paralyzed with fear. Her tongue was sticking to the roof of her mouth. Just at that moment, there was some noise downstairs and Mom called out to him and he withdrew.

Even after bolting her room from inside Kim felt unsafe. She had to tell Mom. However, Mom’s demeanor the next morning was forbidding as she dealt with some office problem and Kim could not go on. She had sought Mom out but Mom’s mind was elsewhere. Plus step-dad was in the house.

Kim left for college and quietly stole back home in the afternoon. She wrote a note to Mom, put her things, bank passbook and cards in a duffel bag and left home.

     ____________

Grabbing left overs in the hotel and takeaways on holidays were ruining her health. Kim ate lots and became fat but was always tired. She had thought of resuming her studies after a year but it seemed impossible now. Everything looked hopeless.

She started buying a lottery ticket once a month. Maybe she would win a prize and escape the current troubles. She had to work overtime on a weekday to pay for the ticket.

It was month end and she entered the lottery shop to buy her ticket. An Indian family ran the shop and they were polite people. Ajit Shah greeted her. She was treated as a regular customer now.

Kim started scratching the number on her ticket. It looked different from the winning number which was displayed in the shop.

Of course, what else could she expect? The ticket gave her an evening’s temporary relief. That was all. The price was for those few moments of escape.

Kim did not even finish scratching the number fully. Depression and a sense of futility overcame her.

She thrust the ticket on the counter before Shah and bolted. The effort of scratching, matching it with winning number, plastering a smile on her face to show she did not care was too much!

     ____________

After two days, her phone rang in the morning.

“I am speaking from the corner lottery shop. My name is Ajit Shah.”

“Yes?”

“Your lottery ticket on Thursday…”

“I am sorry I left it on the counter. I should have put it in the bin.”

“No, no! It was not fully scratched, you know. I did it and the number tallied. You have won the lottery ma’am.”

Kim drew in a sharp breath. She could not believe what she had just heard. She remained silent.

“Are you there? I have your ticket with me. You will have to come here and then present it. Do you know, the prize money is 1 million dollars?”

Oh God! That kind of money will solve all her problems! But with her anxiety and nerves, she had botched the chance. There was no way to claim the ticket. Who would believe that it was her ticket? It was in Shah’s hands now. Why had he called her at all? He must be having some designs.

“This is not happening!” Kim muttered to herself. She had to go and find out more. She managed to shake off her lethargy for just a little while.

“That’s right. It is a lottery ticket and it is in my hands. I can claim the prize money.” Mr. Shah was watching her keenly and he had divined her thoughts. “My first thought was that I’d do it. I slept that night thinking that I had become a billionaire and would buy a Tesla car. The next morning however, I was uneasy. It did not seem right.”

Mr. Shah paused here and drank some water. Two other customers in the shop had drawn near and they were listening, fascinated.

“So, I phoned my grandparents in India and asked them what I should do.” Shah continued. “Don’t claim the money. They told me without any hesitation.”

“I reasoned with them. It was just a game of chance, I said. It was not that I was robbing somebody of their hard-earned money. However, they were firm. Whether anyone had worked for it or not was beside the point. The money was not mine. Moreover, I knew whose it was and it was my duty to return it to the rightful owner, they insisted. It was difficult to agree with them and yet after a while I understood the wisdom of what they told me.”

Shah took out the crumpled lottery ticket from his pocket and beckoned Kim.

Others in the shop clapped. One of them took a snap of Ajit Shah.

Kim stood rooted where she was. She was witnessing a miracle!

“I was a billionaire in my mind for one night. It felt nice. However, now I have become famous and people are coming into the shop to congratulate and photograph me. This is much nicer.”

Shah grinned and thrust the ticket in Kim’s hands.

 

 

****************************

 

 

Fate

 

Ira took out her new white dress. Its tunic had delicate pink and lilac embroidery on the yoke and wrists. It made her feel special and gave a spring to her step.

She arrived at Mona’s new flat with two other friends. A small, one bedroom flat but it was freshly painted and tastefully furnished. Mona and her husband stood at the entrance, beaming from ear to ear. Mona welcomed her hostel friends with a warm hug.

“What a nice house! And how happy you look, Mona! Congratulations.”

“My mom said the same thing. Our decision to postpone marriage till we had our own house has paid off. Mom was sure that something or the other would go wrong during this period.” Mona confided in her.

The house was full with guests and gifts and flowers they had brought. Ira was introduced around. She made small talk. She became aware of the intense gaze of one man who was eyeing her steadily. He had medium height and was powerfully built. His mop of dark hair, bushy eyebrows and clever eyes which missed nothing gave him a presence.

Ira picked up her plate and sank down on an empty sofa corner.

Only two months ago, she was in the dumps and had thought that she had no future in this city.

She had lost her college teaching job. It was temporary but she had hoped that her good work would lead to continuation. It had not. There were no employment ads for teaching in the newspapers. Luckily she had had the foresight to pay her hostel fees for six months in advance and so did not have to go back to her brother’s house immediately. She rather hoped that her savings would help in tiding over the break till a new job was found.

                                ______________

She got a phone call one morning. The caller told her about an old life insurance policy of her late father’s. The caller added that the policy issued against one lump sum payment had matured some seven years ago and the money was lying unclaimed all this while. He was phoning from an insurance regulatory office and his job was to clear all such pending unclaimed accounts. Her name was mentioned as a nominee in the policy and so this call.

Ira was intrigued. The mention of her father’s name brought a lump to her throat.

“Which insurance company? How much did he pay? What is the maturity amount?” she croaked.

“The maturity amount is ______ and you will be entitled to interest on it for the intervening period.”

Ira sat down. It was a substantial amount. If she could get it, her money problems would be over for a long time.

She used to manage her father’s meagre finances. She had never heard of any such insurance policy. However, it was so long ago! May be her father had forgotten about it. But he had cared for her. It was her name and not her brother’s as the nominee.

The person at the other end continued. He had a warm, sympathetic voice.

“I know, it is too much to take in. There is no hurry. I will give you my department’s phone number. Please call _______ there and give her this file number. She can verify the details I have given you.”

Ira did so. The lady gave her more details of the case.

“Nobody issues policies of this type any more. If you do not claim the maturity amount in the next two months, the government would forfeit it. So you will have to act quickly. You will have to buy a new insurance policy by paying its annual premium and the old policy would be settled against it.”

It sounded very plausible. 

In half an hour, Ira received an insurance policy proposal from a well-known company. She was asked to read it carefully and if satisfied, open the accompanying payment link. Ira did so and made the payment with her card.

She went to bed in a happy state of mind. She kept remembering her father. His legacy would come at just the right time. She did not have to worry about future now.

At midnight however, she woke up with a start. What if all this were an elaborate fraud? Newspapers were full of reports every day of people being duped through false messages, one time passwords, payment links etc. etc. What proof of her father’s insurance policy was with her? Why did she not wait for a few days? Why did she not verify any of the details?

She had no answers. The insurance story sounded so thin now. She had got completely taken in and did whatever she was asked to.

Ira lost her sleep. She bided time till her roommate woke up and then she told her what had transpired.

The roommate burst out laughing. Then she saw Ira’s white face and checked herself.

“You did not pay the premium?”

“I did.”

“How much?”

__________

“Oh God! Ira, how could you? You could not afford to. Why did you not check with any of us? These bogus calls from so-called insurance companies are rampant now-a-days.”

“I believed them. I still think my father left me that money.”

“What money? Who has seen it? The only real money is what you have paid.” Her roommate told Ira emphatically. “Come on Ira! Not a single pi comes to us gratis in this world. Legacy indeed!”

Ira had to accept that she was right. The roommate contacted Ira’s bank. The bank advised her to file a complaint with the police. It also gave her cybercrime detection department’s website details.

              _______________________

Ira sat transfixed on her bed. She could not move. This was the end of her dream of a career in the city and she had done it herself.

 Her roommate made her file an online complaint. Ira kept making mistakes. By the end of the day, she had finally managed to submit her complaint with all the details available with her. She got an acknowledgement.

Next day, she wrote an application, attached the acknowledgement to it, made a photocopy of the set and trooped down to the nearest police station. She had to wait in a queue. When her turn came, she showed her application to the police inspector. He read it carefully and signed Ira’s copy. “We will get in touch with you.” He told her tersely.

Ira came back to her room and lay down. She had made a fool of herself twice over. She could not retain her job and then she lost almost all of her savings. What will she do now?

She required the last vestiges of her energy to get through the next few days. She did not call her brother to fill him in. she forced herself to hunt for job openings. Otherwise she watched TV, listened to songs on the radio and passed time. She dutifully followed up with the police. Phoning was out of question as the number was engaged throughout the day and night. She had nothing to do the whole day except searching for job openings. So, she went to the police station everyday. She patiently stood in a queue, politely enquired about the progress of her case and came back.

After two weeks, she got another phone call. This time, it was from the local cybercrime detection cell to which her case had been referred. The caller checked her credentials and asked her to furnish a copy of her bank statement. Ira was badly frightened. What if she lost the rest of the money also?

Her roommate checked and said it was a genuine call. She persuaded Ira to give details from her bank statement.

It showed a distressingly small balance. It would be just enough to buy a train ticket to her brother’s home.

Nothing more happened in the next two weeks. Ira had reached the end of her tether. She cast one last look at the bank statement before withdrawing money.

She was puzzled. The statement showed a higher balance. How? Who paid? What was going on?

Then the penny dropped. The previous day there was a deposit in her account. The amount was the same as the insurance premium she had paid.

So the police department had done their job and rectified matters but without any kind of intimation to her!

She could not accept this. It was too good to be true. Her roommate confirmed that it was the refund of her lost amount.

Ira’s depression vanished. She felt charged. The worst was over and things would only improve from now on.

She wanted to be extravagant and on an impulse she bought the expensive white dress in a shop window. She had coveted it for months.

                 ______________________

With a start, Ira came to and looked around. The man with bushy eyebrows was sitting next to her and he was saying something.

“Sorry. I did not hear you.”

“You were totally lost in your own world.”

“Oh yes!” Ira had re-lived her ordeal in the last few minutes and as she came out of her trance, she realised the importance of the present moment. She described the whole incident to the man. He was looking at her expectantly.

“Congratulations!”

“??”

“You got your money back and because you have truthfully shared so much with me. You are a very honest person.”

Ira was confused.

He was not done yet.

“By the way, that dress suits you very well. You look pure and you stand apart.”

Ira blushed and looked down.

“How about coffee this evening?”

_______________________________________________

Word play

 Rumsfeld was a great one for obfuscation.

When it was found that there were no weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, a bogey created by Rumsfeld for attacking Iraq, he was reviled in the press.

Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence, he said then.

Don Rumsfeld

 He died on 1 July 2021.

Funnily enough, he was in my thoughts for the last two months. Reason: I was going through Rumsfeld rules - his famous book of pithy one-liners. It made a lot of sense.

Rumsfeld as twice Chief of Pentagon, was as powerful as McNamara.

He had a habit of editing and reediting his writings continuously. This exasperated his staff no end. On the basis of that and some other irritants, a journalist asked Joyce, his wife, "How do you go along with him?"

Without batting an eyelid, she said," He travels a lot."!!

Delving into the past

 Amma wanted a new notebook. I remembered an old one of mine in which I had made my notes in the last years of teaching. I had abandoned my large files by then. A realization had sunk in that no research and accessing newer and more books were necessary given the low IQ and pathetic application by students.

I thought I had just scribbled some points in short in the long notebook and it was mostly empty. The blank pages would be useful now. So I took out the book with flourish and had a look before handing it over.

I was in for a surprise. The book had notes for two subjects - one from the beginning and the other from the end and some middle pages were blank.

Instead of scribbled notes, I found a printout of the latest syllabus glued on the first page. There were some newspaper clippings, also neatly glued. There were some old, large print advertisements which I had used to show a simple way of analyzing them to the students. One slip of paper had a small exercise of match the pairs. There was a very old Forum of Free Enterprise booklet about the ideal corporate HR policy.

I was thrilled! I remembered those moments of preparation and also the classroom time. Students had found them meaningful. I remain a great believer in assignments and classroom work for students.

I found it difficult to part with those papers. But I had to. The past is not coming back nor will classroom teaching as I practiced it remain there. Still, I had made sincere efforts and their evidence was gratifying.

The way we work

Mindset, the new psychology of success by Carol Dweck, 2006

It is often seen that bright students in school lose their early spark and lead ordinary life while others with average ability in early life become real achievers later. Why does this happen?

According to Dweck, an American psychologist, the reason is mindset. She distinguishes between fixed and growth mindset and says that the former is governed by the desire to look smart while the latter desires to learn. The progress of the two [VJ1]  is as follows.

Attribute	Fixed mindset	Growth mindset
Challenges	Avoided	Embraced
Obstacles	Give up in the face of obstacles	Persist in spite of setbacks
Effort	See it as fruitless	Path to mastery
Criticism	Ignore useful negative feedback	Learn from criticism
Success of others	Found threatening	Source of lessons and inspiration
Result	Reach an early plateau and achieve less than potential. Deterministic view of world.	Reach ever higher levels of achievement. Experience greater sense of free will.

 

I pondered over this. Applied to some puzzles around me and now they are no puzzles. I feel I have gained an important insight with the above.

---

 [VJ1] 

What ho!

 Put the lock down period to some use by writing Empire - a novel on the life of memsahibs in India in the late 19th century. The style of writing is old; developments are few but characters' responses are covered in greater detail. Hackneyed plot of 3 friends travelling to India on a liner. Mixed facts and fiction. Enjoyed myself writing it.

Published it on Amazon KDP -Kindle direct publishing - as both an e-book and a paperback.

How to bring it before people? I have stopped short of running a promotion campaign on Amazon.

Thought I'd recommend it to Arlington Heights Memorial Library and British Library whose collection I access regularly.

AHML used a subterfuge: "We acquire only books of local members with an active library card." Their collection has all the established authors.

From my account of British library, I tried to put in a new purchase request. It did not get forwarded. So I sought a clarification. "Only UK authors." I was told.

The animosity baffled me. I was not trying to influence their purchase decision in any way.

So self-published books on KDP are not taken seriously. For all the democratization of publishing ushered in by Amazon, old prejudices die hard.

Back after a long time

 Thought of copy-pasting all the entries in the blog. My brother had suggested a program for converting the blog into a word document but I could not manage it.

Copy-pasting has taken a long time. Once I learnt that I had to place the mouse on selected blog matter and make a right click on the top most right point of the mouse for copying it, work went fast but before that I had struggled over the issue for 3 or 4 days.

There are 71 posts in all and less than 10 comments. Most of the posts are about new books, movies and some college activities - the sum of my life since 2012.

However, the entries made me feel nice. I felt connected with those moments on the basis of which I wrote the entries.

I had spent some time in designing and beautifying my blog. I used to change the pictures and the layout regularly. That portion could not be copied.

Still, it will be worthwhile going through all the entries, making minor corrections to avoid duplication and prepare a print-out. I will like to dip into it as and when I fancy it.

And of course, I have rediscovered my blog after nearly a year. I will have to visit it regularly.