Shenanigans

So, there's this sardarji in office.. he's the PS to the JS, and he's entertaining. And resourceful. But always entertaining. He has these fascinating eyes, which I suppose could qualify as hazel, for they are almost but not quite green.

Sardarji thinks he's smart, and therefore dresses smartly, carries himself well, and does all kinds of smart things. He also has a very smart wardrobe. All nice suits and stuff. None of your regular sarkari slackness about it. There is one, in particular, that knocks you out. It has these jazzy stripes, and the trousers and coat when worn together seem to be but one flowing tribute to a jailbird. Whenever he wears that I can Not concentrate on anything he says, for I am spellbound by his sartorial statement.

And he has the most fascinating way of talking to a person. He'll just sidle over and before you know it, he's passing on some information in the best spy-thriller manner. In the whole salary shebang, he did more than anyone else to get up some kind of rebellion to force the paymasters to dish out the good stuff. Every day he would stride over and with a conspiratorial air ask if the good comrades (us) had spoken to so and so about the money. Or, more often, he would just come to tell us the progress that he had made so far, in keeping the pressure on the recalcitrant paymasters.

Today he even imparted a pearlie of wisdom. He made me call up the people who were supposed to pay us for Dec and Jan, and after other lengthy negotiations, it so happened that we actually found ourselves most unaccountably wealthy at the end of the day... the long awaited cheques were in our hands! That was when he nodded sagely and said 'Ladies ke bolne se soft ho jaate hain sab... isi liye mein bol raha tha aapko... ' Now we know. How come it doesn't work that way in all these other situations?