Rovi Chasie
Kohima
I am a common [wo]man, I cook, wash utensils, sweep and scrub the floor. So mundane, so peaceful.
The drama begins the moment I step outside. I stand in a queue. I am an expert in making everyone stand in a straight line, thanks to my training. No, not in the Army, I was captain of the Blue House in school.
Wherever I go a “Ladies” line automatically appears. I do not propound Gender Equality on a podium nor do I come out on the streets against injustice. But now and then you may hear this lone, distinct, rather high decibel [a little above 60 dB] yet, pitch perfect harried voice at Customer Service Outlets. The reason being in my home town, it seems, the customer is always wrong.
Today it happened at a Gas agency. Getting past their brazen personnel was difficult enough they need to streamline their service procedure, in order to avoid another fiasco like this one.
They invited all their customers from far and near, including me, to play a Hand and Football match without a Referee .For fear of losing a limb I gave myself a Red Card.
To make a long story short, after all the hue and cry and hissing and growling and snapping and breathing fire and smoke curling out of my ears and nose I left.
Feeling flayed and battered I slung back home like my little cat to lick my wounds, purr my aches away, curl up and go to sleep.
Until I wake up, stretch myself, arch my back, wiggle my paws, sharpen my claws and get ready for the next catfight. For ‘ Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite’? Oh! No, that’s way out of my league. My concern is ‘fair play’, that’s all I ask for and that’s all I intend to do and live by.
