Ducks are Blind

Chapter 1

Wait … don’t try to comprehend the title just yet. I suggest you let the rest of this narration do it for you.

The tale starts off on the very first day of my career. Naturally, just like all the other college blokes who had joined with me, I started with the most important thing you do when you first enter any IT workplace… yep … That’s right .. Ornithology!!… Bird Watching.. Chick Scanning.. or in utter layman terms .. Scouting for Babes!!

Me … ?? … I was “searching for beauty” ..

Yea, I’ve always liked being the philo-guy type. Beauty, a word with so many meanings, the usage of which makes you seem like a “refined person”, unlike those savages around me who refer to it as ‘babe’. Yea, that’s me, always trying to put on the philo hat .. When all the while I know that my definition of beauty is closer than a stone throw from their definition of ‘babe’.

U know …. that’s the most difficult thing with beauty, its definition !!! … That is one thing which never remains the same as time passes. So I thought, lets take the path, that most students take to solve Probability problems. If you can’t find the items that belong in a particular set, find all the items that don’t belong in it and deduct them from the total.

So lets try to identify what is NOT beautiful … according to me … along the years ..

• School => Oil factory in her hair .. yucky

• High School => dark skin .. ( Gals …I know its not fair … isn’t that the reason why they call it dark ? )

• Junior College => Non Jeans … dresses like a priestess…

• Proff College => Calista-Flockhart body … Too much makeup … Too much skin to flaunt (surprisingly true) …

Guys notice.. and eventually classify … gals all the time … It’s a perfectly normal thing for a guy to do … and we guys have pretty simple thoughts and simpler reactions … no subtlety present … pretty simple to understand .. I mean … imagine you spot a group of guys gaping at a hottie … even if you cannot actually see this girl .. you can easily gather intricate details of her anatomy by just observing the reactions of the on looking guys.

Like for instance …

• If 60% of them raise an eyebrow … She’s got a stunning face

• If 65% of the guys take in their paunch, pump out their chest, fix their tie, broaden their shoulders … she’s got even more stunning curves … capable of making them forget their wives

• If a guy actually chokes on his coffee .. She’s got a JLO body … and she accidentally looked at him .. and smiled!!

• And … well … if the guys take a look at her … and go back to looking at their PC screens.. well … you kno .. they saw something .. Which made their spouses look like beauties in comparison.

What can I say … all of us guys are born like that… Vishwamitras .. with inbuilt .. invisible.. Chick scanners … if you are a guy… its in you by default !!

As the years go by .. Guys mature in their outlook towards beauty.. (at least they try their best!!) …

So .. With such beauty filters over my eyes .. I set forth into my new office. Now, there we were, all scuttling into the training room, grabbing PC’s , and that’s when I noticed a threesome … Wait.. Wait … Stop jumping to conclusions already, Man!! I saw them , 3 ladies walking by the ‘training room door’ , just 2 feet wide, but that 0.4 sec time shutter was just enough for my trained eyes.

The 1st one, A real Aphrodite avatar. Cheerful face, excellent eyes.. No… Divine eyes! Body? … Befitting the dancer in a Hindi-pop-Album-video and top it off she’s in Jeans!!! .. My right eyebrow shot up to the ceiling, just like my heart beats!!!

The 2nd damsel, well she was pretty simple looking. Pony tailed, Formal ladies wear.. Hmm.. Not bad!!

As the 3rd and the last one passed by the door, one look at her and my eyes returned back to the PC screen. But subconsciously my eyes registered something. Other than her oily face and the too-tight-almost-overflowing-jeans something else too, the color of her hair … its RED !! A fleeting thought passed my brain … “red hair dye … Girlish vanity!!” .. the thought fades away just as soon as it had risen !!

So in a week’s time, I began working on my 1st project. The 1st thing I notice “DAMN … An all boys team!” …”Alas BeteJaan, Tera number kab aayega” .. i consoled myself somehow…

Three months down the line, my CRM [Customer Relationship Manager] calls me to his office, as he starts speaking, I somehow ignore his other words like “working with client PM on client side .. “ ..

“VC++ development … SQL…”..

The only words that jump started my grey cells sounded something like …

“…and She’s gonna assist you. She has a good experience in SQL” …

That’s my Green Signal!!! … The feeling was like finding life on Mars .. Female life.. To be exact. Of Course I jumped to the offer. Next day , at the client PM’s office visitor’s section, my eager eyes scan every other female life form that enters through those doors … and then she arrives … and my heart sinks. Reason?? … 4 words !!.. Training-Room-Red-hair !!

I recognize her “Hi Miss … What a pleasant surprise”.

Her eyes search me “Ohh yea .. you must be Mr.S” .

“yea”

And we look away … i have just a single sentence in my mind .. “Betejaan .. Number kab aaayegaaaa???”

She turns abruptly and asks “So .. when’s the Hitler arriving?”

I turn to look at her with bemused eyes … “Excuse me”.

She bats a mischievous eyelid … “Abey yaar .. I meant the Client PM !! .. The gr8 khadoos … His command on profanity is legendary .. they say he alweyz wears a grimace on his face .. which looks like a week’s worth of constipation !!”

I couldn’t suppress a silent laugh “You gotta be kiddin me .. Anyway .. I think we are supposed to wait for our CRM to arrive”

She looks at me patronizingly “My dear rookie … Brace youself … and … just wait and watch” !! Then she flicks her hair … a graceful flick … (i notice that) … a whiff of perfume … (I couldn’t help notice that too)… and she’s continues awaiting the CRM…

That’s how I met … Moti !!!

Chapter 2

Well as the day continued we got introduced to our project manager. Once we got all the niceties out of the way, it was time for the non-niceties. I never understood what the “Project Manager’s Tech Assistants’ actually meant, but the next few words from the PM sorta cleared things up.

“Your job is to make sure that the developers don’t screw up the project. So here’s the deal … You catch their bugs, slap it on their faces, get them to fix it in time and I let you keep your job”.

How many times, in your life, have you felt the urge to swear, one which is just loud enough for you satisfaction and silent enough to be heard only by your buddy. As the PM turned on his heels, just before I could relieve my urge, she said it.

“Budda Khoosat Saala”

Like the goose who just found out that her latest egg turned to be golden, I felt both stunned and relieved at the same time. I gave her that ‘Not Bad!!’ look and she shot back “You have you orders, Private. Get Cracking!!”

I used to think that such Nicknaming was simple, till I heard her views on it during lunch.

“Of Course Not!! It’s like a mole on your face. You don’t get to choose one, you just end up stuck with one. Moles can be cute and they can be disfiguring. If you are the one giving moles, then you gotta deliver the right kinda mole, dude. If it’s for a friend, you gotta make sure it ends up as a beauty spot”

I’m silent. She eyes me “You are thinking of Cindy Crawford, arent ya? .. Sheeesh … Boys !!”

I get jostled outta my reverie “Are we still talking about Nicknames?”

“Yes … Basic Principles …

1] Everybody is aware of their nicknames, even though only at a subconscious level. Learn to select from that list.

2] Never be too jazzy with a nickname, it should seem so casual and natural that the listener feels that he had this nickname all his life.

…Wait.. Here’s a good example”

Joe was getting up with his plate. She gestured in his direction and called out “Abey Petu, get me a glass of Chass,will ya”.

Our Good Ol’ Stocky Joe turned to gape at her for a moment ……. shrugged ……. grinned ….. and then got her the drink.

“See?? … It’s an art. Most of the times the specific word might seem harsh on some people, but all you have to do is to choose the right time and pour the right amount of casualness into it, Samjha Dookarr”.

At times when I’m called a pig, I am rarely amused. I protested “Hey, I’m not this sloppy at eating, all the time, ok!!”.

She grinned back “I never said so!!”.

I sighed “Ok, Ok, I get your point!!”

“So you admit it’s an art??” she quipped.

“Oh .. Yea … sure …”. I wasn’t finished yet “If you are getting up , get me a glass of chass too, will ya?”

“Sure Dookarr” she said, and she hadn’t got more than 2 meters away, when I added.

”..and while you are at it ,Moti, get me a papad too”.

“Sure Dookarr” she said, and she hadn’t got more than 2 meters away, when it struck her.

I enjoyed watching her turn, slowly, and look at me in disbelief, and slowly a smile curled up “You are quite a fast learner, Dookarr”.

And that’s how she got named.

Chapter 3

Moti always reminded me of those key-toys we used have. You turn on the key, non-stop clickety-clackety, till the key runs out. The only difference with Moti being that the key somehow never seemed to run out. I never could find where she found all this energy. Never would there be a dull moment when she was around. Even if it’s the most mundane thing, she’ll strive to drive all sanity out of it.

For instance, there we were, all stuffed with a huge coding assignment and a subsequent mail explanation to the client, and she’d go

“Ok Dookarr, We shouldn’t forget teamwork now. So here’s wot we gonna do. U do the typing and I’ll do the talking”

“WHAT??”

“Kiddin !! … Dude … You do the coding and I’ll do the mailing”

“Excuse Me for repeating,… but WHAT??”

“Ok .. ok .. Fine .. You do the VB and I do the SQL”

“But there isn’t any SQL in this”

“That’s my problem; you stick to your side of the deal, Buster!!” And she’d go chuckling at my exasperated face.

Once I, and our good ol’ Frustrated Joe, were plotting against our PM, to be precise, thinking of ways of clamping his vile jaw.

And she sways by ……. “Why clamp it when u can drop it?”

“Why drop the idea, I’d love to see his jaws clamped” I shot back.

“Pfft, Uninitiated One, you won’t understand. Anyway, Tomorrow’s the weekend, hmmmm. Well I’m off for the day, catch you both tomorrow” as she hopped off.

Nothing prepared mine nor the other 90 pairs of eyes, on our floor, for the next day. There our PM was, minding the morning mails, and then Moti enters.

My eyes gaped; others’ bulged and strove to leave their sockets.

What entered, through the glass doors, was a stark rendition of soft cotton top and a symphony of bare legs accompanied by a micro-midi around them.

Good ol’ Aghast Joe had his mouth wide open.

“Holy Barb Dwyer !!!!”

“Dwyer who??” i whispered.

“Shut up and Gape !!”

She sashayed towards our PM, who had temporarily lost the motor functions of his zygomatics. She spoke to him at length about the previous day’s issues, stole a quick smile and then came to our bay.

“So Dookarr Gang, Did it drop ??”

Good ol’ Where-Am-I Joe “Du-uh!!”

“Drop ? IT BOUNCED RIGHT OFF THE FLOOR, MAN!! MOTI U TOTALLY ROCKED !! “

Our entire team rewarded her with the High-Fives.

Nothings impossible (or sane) when Moti takes over.

Chapter 4

Moti was not a typical mentor at work, but she did have her own way of imbibing values into her team. There was this new joinee from Chennai who was supposed to be a champ in VC++, but I could never ever get through to him. I would tire myself trying to get an idea into his skull, while he would waste all that time trying to express his to me. In the end I would end up frustrated.

“Hey Dookarr, come … Lets have some coffee”

“No use”

“Come On, I’ll make you some … “

As we reached the pantry, she asked “Ever owned a Leather Sandal?”

“Err.. Yea …. Some years back .. why?”

“What happened the first few days you wore them?”

“Bloody hell … tore the skin right off my feet … damn irritating nuisance those things were”

“So I guess you threw them away.”

“No .. Mom helped me rub out some hard leather on its underside and then applied some ghee on it … After some days the irritation stopped”

“Why ??”

“Well … the rubbing of my feet against it and the ghee actually ended up polishing the sandal from inside”

“And…”

” and … err … It was no more a pain … now that I recollect .. I actually enjoyed wearing that pair cause it was so comfortable”

She sported a broad grin as she prepared coffee.

“What?” I demanded.

Her smile kept curving on; it almost broke into a giggle. “I thot the dookarr was a quick learner, would it disappoint Moti?”

Then it struck me .. “Ohhh … Uhuh .. so you mean …. i mean .. that means …. wait … You mean that guy’s my sandal???”

“Shadap Dookarr … You very well know what I meant … Now Drink this … I put in some extra cream on as a compliment to your non-existent smarts”.

That was just one of the few ways that she polished us.

It wasn’t just me. I could see it in each of the team member. She affected everyone of us. We’d be all working, slogging hours on an assignment. But when Moti’s around, not one of us had a weary face on.

Good Ol’ Optimistic Joe had once said to me “Man, i hope to God that I never see a tear in those eyes of hers”.

Joe turned lucky, ………….. ……….because God had chosen me.

Chapter 5

She never spoke of her love life, not once to any of us, till that day.

I knew something was amiss, since that was the first day that she tried hiding her face from us. Sometimes I used to escort her till the train station, mostly because I would be in the middle of an elaborate narration of yat another exciting new action thriller that I had watched.

But that day was different.

Eventhough that day had started normally, but it just wasn’t the same. She wasn’t the same. Good Ol’ Concerned Joe did try to ask, but felt that she might resent it and backed out. Even I was at complete loss of words, not knowing how to tackle a completely emotionless less face, a face which usually pumped life in all of us, on each day, till now. So I just waited.

When it was time for her to leave, she stopped by my PC “Done?”.

“Just some 15 more mins or so, I’ll be ready” I said.

“Good, I’ll be waiting near the side-gate” which I knew faced the way to the station.

I finished up for the day and ran to her, anticipating some explanations. She simply beckoned me to walk and we ambled on towards the station.

“Would you do me a favor, dookarr?”

“Of Course Moti, name it”

“Would you listen?”

I had no idea what she meant, but I nodded anyway.

“I got dumped today”

“WHAT THE…”

“Please ….. Would you just listen?”

I tried swallowing my rage, kept mum and nodded.

“I was never good in the looks dept, always got branded as the non-attractive one, right from childhood. I knew myself and hence was never too surprised about that. I also stayed away from all kinds of cosmetics, since I always felt that it was a bit vain to use them. The opinion about me continued unaltered all through my education, even in my Grad college days. Not that it ever made much difference to me; I never expected anything else from the people around me. So I wasn’t too worried about the fact that my hair had suddenly started to go silver. I had to get it dyed just to appease my parents.

Obviously, under such circumstances, I was totally shocked to find this guy proposing me, at my first workplace. This was new to me, and obviously, I was flattered and elated. Somehow I decided to trust his love, since this guy was definitely not falling for my looks. All my life, I was convinced that falling in love was never meant for me. So this invitation into a love life stood out like a sweet pie in my life, like a beautiful paradise, which I’d only dreamt about.

Imagine one day seeing that same pie smashed right in front of your eyes, the dream dissolving into nothingness. That too done by the same person who had presented this lovely vision to you in the first place. Imagine getting a call from that person’s mother, who asks you to leave her son since you don’t ‘look fit enough’, that she has found a better ‘looking’, more befitting person than you. Imagine standing there, listening, seeing your whole paradise fall apart, helplessly wondering why your beloved is not even attempting to stand up for you.”

She tried but she could not complete that, she was already trembling with emotion. She just held my shoulder and slowed down, almost came down to a stand still. The proud Moti still not showing me her face, just standing there crying out for the first time in the day, for the first time in my life.

I don’t know who this bloody man or his heartless mom was, but I had never experienced such pure hate, the way I felt for those two.

I started protesting “Bloody Imbeciles!! How the hell can they dare say such things to you? …”

“SHUT UP Man, LOOK AT ME, JUST LOOK AT ME !! WHAT ELSE DO YOU EXPECT WITH SUCH A FACE??”

and then I saw her face.

What followed was a complete new revelation.

It was as if I was seeing her for the first time. Now, for the first time, I noticed the details of her face and I had no idea why I felt that these features were not present on her face a second before. It’s only now that I noticed her oily skin, slightly uneven lines on forehead, slightly uneven cheeks, slightly receded hairline, and uneven colored reddish hair.

It felt as if, all these months, I was watching her face through a misty piece of glass, which had just got wiped clean. Like an image gaining sharpness. The face which I now saw wasn’t Moti, not the Moti we knew, it belonged to someone else, still it bore a resemblance to something I had seen, some time back.

And then it struck me.

This was the same face that I’d seen from the training room door. The features were the same that I had noticed then,

and there followed another revelation.

For the second time that day, I felt that same form of pure hate, this time for that person in that training room. The ‘old’ me, who had felt those feelings for Moti. Did I call her hair ‘girlish vanity’??; I wanted to kick myself. I wanted to bash myself black and blue. I couldn’t believe I had thought such things about her at that time, now it was simply unpardonable, a sin.

I look at her teary face. No, she hadn’t changed since then, but then why doesn’t she look like the Moti I knew. The Moti, who was cheerful, full of life, simply beautiful. What had changed?

I left her at the station; neither of us had spoken anything all the way. As she ascended the steps, I kept looking on. Things started making sense. It was me who had changed. Me and other guys like Joe. Moti was always beautiful.

It was Moti and her wonderful ways that had filled our glasses with mist. We stopped noticing the silly details of her skin and saw the real ‘her’. I couldn’t believe it, but Moti had showed us how to look ‘through’ skins. She gave the right blur factor to our vision which blurred out the nitty-gritty of one’s appearance and showed only the stuff that mattered.

This feeling was of freshness, of novelty, a whole new different experience of sight, perhaps similar to opening your eyes underwater for the first time. Its not that people appear different to us anymore, we actually start looking at these people differently. As I retraced my steps that night, I saw a lot of ‘uninteresting’ faces and personalities on the way. Somehow each of them, every single one of them, beckoned my attention and interest. I couldn’t suppress a smile as I thought, who knows, there could be another Moti hidden behind each of those faces.

Defining beauty is still not easy. But now I understood that defining beauty is a way of restricting it. Beauty is not what we see; it’s just what we feel. For that matter, we need not even use our eyes to feel beauty. The concept of beauty is too vast for just our eyes to comprehend. Eyes are just a medium which helps our minds decide. Beauty goes much beyond that.

Its not the first sip of wine that fills our taste senses with bliss, it’s the aftertaste left in our mouth, which lasts longer. There’s a bit of beauty everywhere, it’s the beholder who has to adjust his vision to enjoy that beauty.

What our eyes see, is similar to looking at the cover of a book. What matters most of the time, is the stuff hiding behind the cover, inside the book. Once we have read the book, it’s the stuff within the book that enthralls us, that thrills us. Having read a good book, would you discard it because it has got an unattractive cover? I guess not. Covers may do justice to the content of the book, or they might not. The covers won’t matter for those who have learnt to ignore its appearance and respect the book based on its content. There would be others who don’t even attempt to read the book, simply because the cover did not appeal to them. There is a simple feeling of pity that the book’s ardent readers feel towards the people who missed reading the book.

I felt similar pity for that stupid boy and his mom.

“Covers don’t matter,”
“What matters is the stuff behind.”
“Gaze beyond your vision,”
“Its only beauty that you will find.”
“Remember…”
“The Duckling was never Ugly.”
“The Bloody Ducks were Blind !!”