An Accountant, a flask, his wife and her tailor!

An Accountant's Ruminations!
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Very few people aspire to be an accountant. A father fondling his five year old asks him, "Sonny, what do you want to be when you grow up?" The son says " A Doctor".

The father's head lifts up in justifiable paternal pride. If the 'sonny' were to say in his child-speak, "An Accountant", the whole family will be righteously worried.

A child psychologist will be summoned to deal with a class one emergency. His brief: to cure the aberration in the child's mind.

Many normal thinking people equate accountants with boredom. And the beauty of the thing is most of us accountants do not fail to live up to these people's expectations.

A young client of mine put it like this: "The only thing that is more boring than talking to an accountant is hearing him talk." Well, my mission in this forum is not to dispel these popular notions, but to show the world, at least to the ILites, that the accountants as a race do not exactly lack sense of humour.

Humour presupposes some minimal intelligence. So we shall first deal with the accountants’ intelligence or the lack of it.

We are the only race priveleged to watch man in relationship with his money. We have an insight into the workings of a human mind which is rivalled only by the professional psychologist. Surely any man appears in a completely different light to his accountant than what he does to the members of his club or to his in-laws.

At the place where I once worked, my boss, who was basically an engineer used to condemn us accountants:" You accountants know the price of everything but the value of nothing." In those days I brushed this aside as just a healthy inter-professional rivalry.

Now only I realise the harshness of the comment though I am yet to be convinced of its truth.

Price is only one of the dimensions of the value - the monetary dimension. Since we accountants are absolutely clear of the limitations of this dimension, I think we appreciate the real value of things better than others.

Of course not all of us. A few are like my young accountant friend - a brilliant cost accountant - who was honeymooning in an exotic resort with his brand-new wife.

In a shop there the wife picked up a bottle of an exquisite perfume. The accountant pried over the bottle to see its price. "Why, darling, pay five hundred bucks for this stuff? The material in the bottle will cost only Rs 20/- and the rest is for advertisement and overheads."

The bride had had enough of it and flashed a fifty Rupees note from her hand bag saying, " Go get two bottles of the stuff without the advertisement and overheads."

Needless to say that the event signified the end of a romantic honeymoon for our accountant friend.

But there are times where it pays not to be as romantic as the rest of the crowd. A few years ago we had a sale of "unbreakable flasks" in our town.

People were flocking to buy these gadgets and were romanticising about the unbreakability, in other words, the immortality of these thermos flasks. One unromantic accountant was also in the crowd thanks to the nagging of his wife. He was not ready to buy the usual sales talk of the unbreakability of the flask.

"Why don't you drop down a flask and let me see for myself whether what you claim is true or not ? " He said in his characteritic professional tone.

The salesman took a brand new flask, held it by its neck and dropped it down gently on the floor. The sound of the breaking glass filled the room and all the eyes were on the scene.

The boss of the shop rushed to the spot to rescue his image and shouted at the salesman for dropping the flask in the "wrong way." Then he was graceful enough to demonstrate the "right way."

With the serenity of the Buddha he lifted another piece and dropped it gently on the floor. The sound of shattered glass reverberated the entire room for the second time. Somebody informed me later that the day of the visit of our unromantic friend was also the last day of the sale of "immortal flasks."

Inspired by these great minds I at times attempt to feign intelligence and end up making a perfect fool of myself. Well, it happened even yesterday.

My wife had entrusted to me the great responsibility of collecting her stitched blouses from her tailor. She handed over the tailors card repeatedly warning me that I should not forget to get back the ‘model blouse’. The whole world may praise you as the most brainy fellow; but to your wife you are always the silly, forgetful old man.

I went to her tailor. Unfortunately he was not there. A ten year old boy attended on me. “Kid, you may not know how to pick up the right piece; you may not know where your father kept the model blouse. So I’ll come tomorrow.”

The ‘Kid’ said with an indulgent smile, “Sir, you first show me the card. Let me try.”

Reluctantly I handed over the card expecting him to immediately plunge into the mountain of stitched blouses kept in the adjoining table.

The ‘Kid’ did not do that. He looked at the card and then looked at me. He laughed aloud saying, “Sir you told me that I cannot pick up the right piece. But Sir, you cannot even pick up the right shop. This is not our shop’s card. You have come to the wrong shop.”

I thought he said, “May God save your wife and her blouse.” Or was it a hallucination of an overworked mind?


Varalotti

 

A Bonus Piece On Astrology!

Now Cheeniya sir, this concerns our common friend and a subject of shared aversion – astrology. ILites, please read on.

Sri and I have a common friend in <st1:City><st1lace>Madurai</st1lace></st1:City>.
This friend, lets call him SP, had a family astrologer whose predictions never went wrong. Any major event in the house the family astrolger was the first person consulted.
One day the astrologer paid his regular visit. And after indulging himself with the sweets and savouries prepared by SPs wife, he offerred to look at SPs horoscope.
SP is in his early 70s. He is a very sweet man. Cheeniya, I and SP belong to a fraternity which is present the world over.
As the astrologer was seeing SP’s horoscope the sweet fell of his mouth. That itself was inauspicious, thought SP. But it was nothing compared to what the Astrologer said.
“SP I hate to tell you, but I have no choice. You are going to die on this day.”
He scribbled a date on a piece of paper and gave it to SP. (May SP live for a hundred years).
SP, true to the spirit of the brotherhood to which he belonged, took the information in his stride. He went about his work as usual.
The astrologer had said that the end would come late in the night on the D-day.
SP bid farewell to friends and family. He even hosted a dinner with cocktails a few days before that day.
On that fateful night SP dressed himself in full suit and went into his bedroom. Full suit was the dress code of the brotherhood to which he belonged.
He had a nice sleep. In the morning when the family was ready for “anything and everything” SP walked out of his bedroom with a big smile on his face. He had survived. The family was thrilled and so were his friends.
For the first time the astrologer was wrong. SP wanted to thrash that fellow. He placed the call to the astrologer’s house. Somebody picked the phone. He could hear sounds of wailing. Yes, the astrologer had died exactly at the time he predicted for SP.

Varalotti

 

Dear Kamla,
I am not sure about my reception in my fraternity. But if by these ruminations if at least I make one kid say that that she wants to be an accountant, and more important, if the kid's parents do not hurry to the neighbourhood psychiatrist, then my mission is accomplished.

Your grandson is a real cutie. Garbage truck drivers have lots of stories to tell. Some even paraphrase, "Show me you garbage; I will tell you who you are."
Actually a lot is to be learnt from the so called "unpopular" professions. I recently read a book written by a lady Doctor who has spent most of her life doing post mortem. Her close brush with death, the compassion she acquired by breaking the news to the relatives of the dead, has made her a great writer, a wonderful philosopher and above all a superb human being.

As to poor Indhu's blouses she got back that card from me. I had been more foolish that I can reckon in the first instance. Indhu says she wanted to test another tailor without her usual tailor knowing about it. Now my showing the new tailors card at her usual tailor's place is sure to strain the relationship.

She says that I can get a Ph.D in messing up things. Check up with some of the American Universities where I can apply for my well-earned degree.

Thanks Kamla for being the first to comment.
regards,
sridhar

 

Thanks Sundari!

Dear Sundari,

Happy to know that you have links to our breed. Happier still that your daughter who has taken to teaching earns faster.

The other day I was casually telling my daughter in my wife's presence. "Dear, I am going to look out for a brilliant accountant for you."

I was surprised and shocked when both the mother and the daughter folded their hands in my direction, "Appa samy, anybody (that was orally underlined a thousand times) other than an accountant would do."

Then only did I realise the impact we as a race have on our families.

But Sundari, Accountants are generally responsible, are generally good providers and take care of their people. I might be saying because I am heavily biased towards this flock. But you tell me, whether my assessment is right.

regards,
sridhar

 

I am happy, Sundari!

Dear Sundari,

The exchange of our posts can be made as reading material for prospective accountants wives and for their accountant husbands too.

It is not that Accountants do not hate spending per se. They hate ostentatious spending.

Just take the case of cell phones. I have Nokia 2600 which is a rugged instrument and is very good for talking and receiving calls. But it does not have a camera, a net connection, GPRS, musical ringtones, spread sheets, video recording facility etc. I want my cell phone to be just that. I dont want it to do the functions of any other electronic gadget.

You buy a mixie. You do not want that to double as an oven.

When I say this many people dont agree with me. I have been accused as stingy for the only reason I have the cheapest handphone. Some of my staff carry costlier sets. A girl we hired at the entry level carries a state of the art instrument which has a hundred different uses.

My argument is when I do not have any use for those features, why should I pay? A cost-benefit analysis in the simplest terms.

My wife carries an instrument which doubles as a FM Radio. But she does not have a reminder facility. She is never tired of accusing that I am miserly when it comes to personal spending.

I think at this rate, I might write a book on how to be an accountant's wife.
Thanks for the provocation, Sundari.
sridhar

 

Thanks Sri!

Dear Sri,

Chase writing a humour story is news to me. You bowled me over with that. Not that I have read any of his books. They say theres a time in your life to read Chase. But I missed the bus.

Well, I have been trying my hands at humour for some time now. I wrote a series of articles like the one here for the last page of our professional journal Chartered Accountant.

I wrote a series of satirical essays in Kalki in 2000 parodying the then popular KBC, World Beauty Contest, American Presidential Elections and our mega serials.

Since my story is going to be pretty serious I am using this forum for humour from now on. Great to have you here.

The common friend is not C but SP whose name you mentioned in your second pm to me. Remember?

But Sri, you should have heard SP narrating the incident at the Trestle Board with the characteristic drag in his voice. That was a treat to watch.

Thanks once again for your kind comments,

And I did attend the memorial service you are referring to. I attended two. I got a copy of the hymns and portions and I have stored the relevant parts in my system. They are so profound that I felt proud belonging to our fraternity.

regards,
sridhar