e-Nagar

So, I joined a start-up in Ahmadabad some time back. We are trying to do something for the rural sector…and no, it is not going to be another N.G.O. Anyhow, marketing basics taught me that if I am to make you interested in what I have to offer, I have to know what you want, directly or otherwise. So to get our marketing inputs, we keep making trips to the countryside, where our customers are.

During our last trip, we had done a particularly torturous route of 50 km on village road, before hitting the wonderful highway. So within moments, we were doing around 150 kph and still cursing the car to go faster and make up for the last stretch. Then IT happened. The front tire blew up, and took the fender panel out with it. In a breathtaking manoeuvre, we managed to stop the car without any accident. After a few oh shits and thank gods, we got to the damage assessment. We had the following situation at hand -

1 car with a blown tire, no right fender or indicator and hanging electrical wires.

1 fender without a car with broken unknown scraps instead of an inner panel.

4 ‘mechanical engineers‘ with a wtf look on their faces.

1 spare tyre, a jack, some duct tape, tools and bolts we didn’t know about.

We got to work. Well, they got to work and I watched. After they replaced the tyre, they started looking at me. No matter how much I hemmed and hawwed, they made me work on the fender with them. After a considerable amount of time, we ended up taking pics or smoking because the damn thing wouldn’t hold. And then, the genius hit me. India runs on jugaad. So can this car. I took the duct tape and taped the wires and the fender. True, I used up a big tape completely but the fender was in place, a true ta-da moment.

Well it ends on a happy note. We reached a mechanic soon who ripped us for the repair works but we had a satisfying dinner. We made it back without any further incidents and my conceited ego got inflated by another 100 PSI. I realized my superpower of jugaad and decided that this super hero could have his great powers without any responsibility.

The corridor in Ahmadabad’s NDBI Incubation Cell features a female mannequin. It must have been put there by a fashion start-up which either moved out or closed down. This mannequin is always covered in an old jacket and from the time I have been in NDBI, it had never been moved or touched. It was one of the old fixtures in the joint we never bothered about.

Until the fateful day. We started sharing our office with another team. In a leisurely break when I asked them about the place, the topic of fashion start-ups came up. One of the guys then informed me that the jacket on the mannequin wasn’t always there…and the mannequin, as he put it, was anatomically correct to a perverted level. Then he added a sly knowing smile, and said to my partner – “kyun sahi bola na bhai?” (Am I right, bro?)

From the hemming and hawing that came as a response from my partner, it was clear he was standing on a quicksand and we were about to facilitate his drowning. With hyena like smiles on everyone’s face and my interest piqued, my poor partner was a gazelle trapped in midst.

As it turns out, my friend used to work till wee hours alone before I came and didn’t realize that a camera used to watch his activities with the mannequin in the corridor with interest. So did the guards and eventually, the entire NID campus, with much amusement…unless someone put a jacket on the subject of interest. Now I understood why anatomically correct to a “perverted” degree. How he gave up his habit is a mystery. Whether it was the end of his perversion, his finding out about the camera or someone eventually covering the mannequin with a jacket as a subtle hint, its anyone’s guess.

You cannot question a person for mistreating a mannequin; hence my partner escaped scot-free. But on the very next day of this conversation, the mannequin was removed. Hmm…do they have microphones in the office??

A man, sitting at home with his wife, said, completely out of the blue, “I love you.” She asked, “Is that you or the beer talking?” He replied, “It’s me, talking to the beer!”