Idhar Udhar Ki Baat

“Sir, gas pass kiya?”The nurse asked me the question in her unmistakable Malayali accent on the morning after my appendicitis operation. In my sixty years of life, I had always considered this a somewhat indecent question. Among friends, it was usually asked only when someone was accused of poisoning the atmosphere. Naturally, my defensive instincts took over. “No,” I replied. The nurse looked worried. Half an hour earlier, a nursing assistant had asked me exactly the same question and had displayed the same concern at my answer. At that time, I had assumed they had planted some sensors. Now a second person was asking. The matter was clearly becoming serious. Fifteen minutes later, the surgeon arrived. His first question was also, “Have you passed gas?” At this point, I became curious. Instead of answering, I asked him why the question was so important. The surgeon patiently explained that after abdominal surgery, the return of bowel function is an important indicator of recovery and g...

  “Saab ji, age saab di plate nun kuttian ne nahin puchhna (Saab, one day even dogs won’t spare the Saab’s plaque).” The do-it-all Havildar said it so casually that for a moment I could not even react. I had just asked him to change the inauguration plaque for the third time because, yet again, the date of inauguration had changed. Somewhere higher up, protocol and prestige were wrestling with each other again. The Havildar’s remark sounded dangerously close to insolence. For a few seconds, I genuinely felt like giving him a proper dressing down.  But practicality often defeats emotions.  The fellow knew every mason, every painter, every welder and every shortcut in the cantonment. The deadline was tight and the event had to happen smoothly. So I swallowed my irritation. The inauguration eventually went off very well. Speeches were made, photographers clicked away furiously, chai and pakoras disappeared with military efficiency, and everyone left satisfied that hi...