EVERY DOG HAS ITS DAY Check, Re-check and Re-Re-Check, was his fad, his obsession, he did not believe anyone, in his command. Yes! The General was stupendously, stupid in implementing his Check, Re-check and Re-Re-check theory, an intelligent veil to centralize all power under him. Agree to his ideas or be prepared for a sack.
His overtly ambitious command preferred it wise to keep the General in the perpetual state of oblivion, by feeding him information of his liking. The General enjoyed being a species from outer space, too detached from the reality on the ground. The situation bred a coterie of exploiters, who mischievously customized the system, becoming obsequious. It was a fertile environment for the inefficient and the careerist officers in the organization. The dogmatic staff prevented and discouraged the subordinates from learning, training, and taking initiative. The coterie enjoyed pampering, the Generals wife and children, in fact all who mattered, and had, the proximity to influence, were pleased. The Generals wife one day expressed her desire, for a soldier to be dispatch to Jammu. It was to collect, a pedigree pure white Pomeranian pup, from a Brigadier friend of theirs. A group of suitable soldiers were summoned for the task, but none, dare to take the risk, of selecting, that one man for the job. The easiest way, it was decided, is to parade the entire lot in front of the General. A rustic Jat soldier was found fit, not that he had any special qualification for the peculiar task, but he satisfied the Army whim, of not being a local from Jammu or any place near it. Army believes, a local, would run to his home and not do his assigned duty, properly. A misplaced fear, of a weak Boss, Army Act has enough penal sections to deal with such defaulters, but than the task should be legitimate. The soldier was thoroughly briefed by the General himself, he would leave nothing to chance, a letter in hand, the Jat soldier left for Jammu. The Jat soldier, it appeared did a fine job, returning in time, with a cute little white pup. The General and his dog loving wife were very happy; they gave a call to their Brigadier friend in Jammu, thanking him for this beautiful gift, of a pure pedigree white pup. ‘Well done’! The General patted the Jat soldier, ‘Go and report to your Commanding Officer, he has been instructed, to felicitate you, on an appropriate occasion for this good job.’ At the battalion, it was decided, that this great feat of felicitation, will be carried out, when the General will visit the battalion during the Divisional Sports Meet. The pup was approximately a month old, and soon two months elapsed. The Generals wife had seen many pedigree Pomeranians in her life, but this one seemed different, she thought it wise to speak to their Brigadier friend in Jammu. ‘All other pups have grown beautifully, the Brigadier replied, ‘they are talk of the town, the purest breed ever, with heavy fur and perfect small size.’ ‘The pup which is with you,’ the Brigadier clarified, ‘is the best male pup.’ The Generals wife was fuming, ‘male pup?’ The white lanky thin tall dog standing in front of her was a bitch, with no fur, and no semblance to, remotely related Pomeranians, furthest cousin. The dog stood there wagging its tail, probably grinning, ready to jump on the Generals, wife lap, the lanky creature no more fascinated her, a confirmed street stray dog, she realized now. She tried to give a kick to the dog, the dog was smart, it coolly slipped under the huge mahogany sofa, putting her off balance, and she slipped and fell. ‘DAAAAARLINNNNNG, PUNISHH, THAT JAT SOLDIER, the dog has kicked me and is not a Pomeranian. She was uncontrollable, shrieking, shouting and yelling; she was at her loudest and appeared more street stray, than the dog. Nobody understood the reason of commotion and chaos in the Generals house. The Jat soldier was picked up by the military police as ordered, what may be the reason, every one tried to clarify from the rustic Jat. ‘Nothing to worry,’ he confidently, replied to all who queried, ‘it is to felicitate me for a job I had done for the General few months back.’ Well nobody had the courage, to unnecessary carry out further probe in the matter. ‘From where did you get this street stray dog? You useless soldier,’ shouted the General. ‘From Jammu sir,’ replied the rustic Jat. ‘No!’ retorted the General, ‘the dog is certainly not the one which the Brigadier at Jammu gave it to you, it has no resemblance to the Pomeranian breed?’ ‘You idiot,’ retorted the General, and continued with grimace. ‘Now say something, or else, I will give you a kick, and post you somewhere on the remote mountain top.’ ‘What can I say sir,’ cried the Jat, ‘the dog probably has taken its fathers genes.’ *MINOR INCIDENTS GIVE MAJOR RESULTS * The General was intelligent; he did not wait or waste a single day, the very next day, he announced and abandoned his Check, Re-check, and Re-Re check policy. The sycophant’s coterie smelled their uselessness, and was cunningly fast to activate their connections at the Army Head Quarters for their posting out. The Jat was the martyr of the episode; he was given the kick along with the dog, from the Generals house that day. The truth would never have come out, but for the folly of the Jat to get drunk, on the eve of Divisional Sports Meet celebration. ‘General,’ he was speaking to his dog. The dog now understood the Jats rustic behaviour very well; she responded to the Jats address, by crawling closer, as if, to coax the Jat for a full debate on the issue. The Jat continued, unconcerned and unaware of anyone around. ‘General,’ he repeated to his dog, ‘you know, I will be telling my grand children, that I was sacked, because of you.’ He had another swig from the bottle, gave some to his dog, who happily licked the entire liquid, the dog crawled more closer, as if she wanted to hear every thing clearly, the Jat poured some more liquor to the dog, she licked and wanted more. ‘Wait!’ said the Jat, ‘you will get drunk, General, first listen to my painful story.’ The dog crawled getting closer, and was almost on his lap. ‘You know, General! After collecting the pup, I came to the railway station. I was hungry, as none at the Brigadiers house bother to ask me for food.’ The pup was secured by cotton, thin rope; I held it tightly, with one hand, and ordered for Allu Puree from the vender,’ ‘When I finished my meal, I realized, that the pup had slipped and was missing, I carried out a thorough search of the entire railway station.’ The Jat paused, took another sip from the bottle, simultaneously giving mouthful to his dog. ‘You know General,’ I found you coolly enjoying, along with other pups; the milk from the mammary of a stray bitch, at a remote corner of the railway shed.’ ‘You were white in color, and had close resemblance, to the pup, I had just lost.’ ‘What could I do, I did not understand the local Dogri language, and was therefore dumb struck, in the crowd.’ ‘You were my savior then, and now you get me a sack.’ Well! You Know General; Every Dog Has Its Day. AN UNPROFESSIONAL BOSS ALWAYS PROMOTES AN UNSCRUPULOUS STAFF, CAUSING AN UNUSUAL ROT IN THE SYSTEM.
