Whoever said you can’t start or end a sentence with and?
So is also one of those words. Whoever said that.
And so, that’s all.
An excerpt from the book:
Speak or Be
A Slave of the Dumb
Not so long ago, a merchant named Jimmy was returning to his home after selling his quick-fire Ponzi scheme in the metropolis. In his compartment on the train was a cagey man who was immersed in a book. After a couple of hours, the man put aside the book and took off the tiffin box dangling from the hook provided by the railways. There were kebabs and rotis in the tiffin. Then the man said to Jimmy who had eyes on the grub, “Please join in.”
That startled Jimmy, and he blurted, “No, thank you. My lunch would be coming from the pantry.”
Then he asked, “What’s your name, Sir?”
The man replied, “Marhaba.”
“That’s a nice name. What does it mean?”
“It’s a combination of two words. Hello and Wow.”
Jimmy smiled and then asked, “What do you do, Marhaba Sahib?”
“I teach,” he replied.
“What subject do you teach?”
“Where did you study?”
He continued with his brevity, “St. Martin High School.”
“Hey, that’s a renowned school. My father used to teach there,” Jimmy exclaimed.
“What’s his name?”
“Mr Dickson.” This time, it was Jimmy’s monosyllabic answer.
“He was my class teacher,” Marhaba divulged his first complete sentence.
“What did he teach you?”
“Why? What went wrong?”
“He shouted all the time, and I always wondered if the son is so noisy what the father would be like.”
They spent the rest of the journey in silence.
Politics is a noble profession. It needs constant attention, selfless devotion, and an abiding concern for the welfare of the people and the State. This takes sparing long hours to address the demands of the public, as well as the machinery. And that does not leave room for pursuing any other vocation in earnest. Till a politician is not elected to represent a segment, he or she has to feed the needed exigencies from his/her sources, and that could be a taxing but handsome amount. Therefore, the remuneration of an elected representative is well worth his/her hard labour.
But Marhaba was not impressed. He was upset because he was angry, for why was he angry?
He was angry because he learnt that Jimmy’s grandfather had sent his son, Dickson, to the best school in town, and he became a teacher, of all the things. And all this while the old man remained well-enshrined in a robust political party that for years was unruly, hence never understood the basics of the ruling. Faced with the uphill task of climbing over a tall order, the think tanks filled up to devise an unthinkable plan. Here the conclave cannily resolved to attach resurgence of communal supremacy with the party’s political fortune. This strategy was implemented with gusto and it worked to scale the wall for the first time, and then there was no looking back. The impressive show struck the political acumen of other nations and they adopted the same method, but with a slight difference. For their people, religion was not an emotive issue, so they attached either racial supremacy or an induced nationalistic fervour to political endeavours. Those who stood against such plotters automatically became racial outcasts or anti-nationals.
Jimmy’s grandfather, Dick, had proven to be a great asset for the party, as he had the inborn talent to shout. At the drop of a hat, he shouted down all challenges, probes, inquiries, in fact, everything under the sun that opposed him.