Ho ho ho....and a (half) bottle of vodka

I got up this morning feeling somewhat different. Whether it was good different or bad different, I did not know. But something that I did or did not do yesterday night, affected me. I slept a lot better and I woke up a bit early. Actually, yesterday was the first night since a long time that I hadnt had alcohol. And no, it was not because I have suddenly decided to go sober or something. Its just that I was dead tired yesterday and just couldnt muster the energy to walk the 100 yards to my current favorite place in the whole world and buy a bottle of vodka.

Although I like the place, it just is not suitably located. It is barely a 100 m from my office and is in front of a bus stop which my office staff use during the evenings to board a bus back home. I scan around the entire perimeter, while going to buy a bottle, and if I find someone from my office who might recognize me, I move forward to the next shop to purchase maggi and curd. I hope that their curiosity turns to sympathy seeing their Project Manager purchase Maggi as his dinner and curd as his night dessert. If nobody is there, I go to the thekka and ask for a bottle of vodka. I keep glancing left and right and curse at the person behind the counter to hurry it up. But it always seems as if he is a person who has all the time in the world. I always give him 2 hundred notes, so that it becomes easier for him to subtract 180 bucks and return me the twenty rupees. But the damn idiot always uses a calculator to do this seemingly complicated subtraction. Then he counts the 2 hundred notes I have handed him, not once but twice. He looks at the calculator again to make sure. All this while my heart beats at 180 bpm, and I am sure I am going to have a stroke any second now. I just hope that nobody from my office comes and sees me standing at a wine shop and all their sympathy turns to disgust. The thekka walla, by this time has solved the complex algebra and has taken out two 10 rupee notes. He counts it twice too.....and finally hands over a half a bottle of vodka. "Am I supposed to carry this bottle in my hand, like a street bum, you asshole?", is what I want to shout at him, but out loud I say, "Okka plastic bag eeyandi" (give me a plastic bag). The handover of a plastic bag is again a 30 second procedure during which I again have to look over my shoulder twice hoping that I am not recognized by any of the people standing there. After all, I am Project Manager of ITDA Srisailam, who is purchasing vodka at a small thekka like a common drunkard.

But once I reach home and have taken the first gulp of the burning stuff, I attain nirvana and forget all my worries. It makes the whole ordeal, which I go through every night, worthwhile. hic

Rev-eeww meeting

Another review meeting has come upon me today. It feels just like last week that I managed to sit through one without falling asleep, and today the damn thing's upon me again. Actually, come to think of it, it was last week that a review meeting was conducted. I hate to sit through these meetings. I would rather be out on the field going in my car, with "On Govt duty, NREGS" printed on the number plate, looking at the poor souls walking or waiting for a bus to pick them up, passing me by, listening to songs chosen by my driver that appeal only to his aural senses.

But alas! These review meetings have now become a part and parcel of my job here. I have to write the agenda for these meetings a day before. And since the last 3-4 meetings, try as I may, I cant even think of enough points to make a one-page agenda (Font size - 12, spacing - 1.5). I also have to tie up the loose ends a day or two before, so that my boss does not get a chance to say his favorite line, "Why didnt you follow it up, Sudhir?".

Usually, the meeting which is supposed to begin at 11 am, begins at 1230. The staff, myself included, are more interested in looking at the clock rather than discussing about the fate of our beneficiaries. As expected, lunchtime come pretty soon. And off we go to a nearby restaurant, which would send any health inspector into a hundred year coma. The person who cleans our table with a dirty rag is the person who serves us food too. One hand holding his rag, another scratching his butt, he asks us for our order, in a tone, as if pitying the fact that we have to eat in such a restaurant. One should also take the care not to look at the floor below unless one wants to throw up. But I have stopped caring about such things. For me, one session of the meeting is over, and I have to deal with only one more.

The session after lunch is the toughest. I have to think about so many things to keep myself awake, that sometimes I wander off to my special place. The time goes by ever so slowly and all I can hope for is that the Sun god decides to call it a day early today. Once the NREGA and IKP (SERP's SHG movement), are over, I can sit back and relax while the health and education guys sweat it out. But somehow, everything gets linked with either of my two departments, and I am stirred from my siesta-with-eyes-open.

Oh, how I wish I was on a field visit today, or better yet, drunk and sleeping in my house today.