Dak ghar

Rains outside windowss,,deep in sleep, when Rama nudged me out: Get up, you have to go the post office and bank. Mood phut. Dak ghar. Sipped a coffee missing the fun. Home looked a Bleak House. That's what happens when Vidya from Chennai sends marching order to post offices and banks. And me prayed. Believe in every class and colour of god when post office and government bank trudges are scheduled at 9. 'Post office opens at 9; go to the post office and then the government bank which rarely opens and not today with Britain walking out of Europe,' said Rama. Never been to England; Anirban Nag is the lone British friend; and do not understand Keynesian economics of Brexit. On Link Road, by 8.30, walk past the fearsome MHB police station and the policemen and women; shift pavements and Link Road has pavements. The Borivili (W) post office makes the next bloc; a ropy woman-man queue at all counters manned by post office men and women in a grand grouch. Intoned Kabir:

Dheere, dheere re mana
dheere sab kuch hoi,
maali seenche sau ghada,
ritu aye phal hoi.

For years have suffered and still suffer government servants. Kabir cannot do a thing about them. They love long lines of humans in front of them as they sip ever-ever chais and gossip Sairat.
'Bageeth la ka,' said a man to a lady as at the counter aam admis stood dumb. At public sector banks, matters are worse; lines never move as computers are always down. From 1946 to 1991 stood at ration shops, government offices; from 1991 to 2016, in lines at corporate and government offices. Yes, they are all honourable gentlemen and ladies; no doubt; vote to themselves seventh, eighth and ninth Pay Commissions for chatting Udtha Punjab.  Econmic development is a sure happening for them. Went again to Kabir:

Pothi padi, padi jag muva,
pandit hua na koi,
dhai akshar prem ka,
pade so pandit hoi.

Prem did not wash the counters. It was 9.30 when a gentleman pointed to the Senior Citizen queue; two queues at the same counter, junior and senior citizens; at 70 me stood there without any age proof; got nervy as a policeman walked in, walked out after a word with a cabined official; he did not ask for age proof; the gentleman at the counter demanded change and me became an ATM; poured out Rs.40 in loose change; walked out into thick rains. Rama mobiled; skip the bank work. At about 10, became the happiest citizen in the world. Wish Happiness for Britishers as me loves everything British, English, English humour, greens and Wimbledon. Wished they had stuck to Europe. Oliver Goldsmith wrote Citizen of the World. Oliver was Irish.