V.Viswanathan
The first time I met Pariventhan (name changed) in one of the work locations, involuntarily I saluted him in military style and he was taken aback. “Sir, Did you know that I served as a Captain in the Indian army?” he queried. “Frankly, Mr Pari, I didn’t know. But your height, broad physique and closely cropped hair reminded me of an army personnel and I just felt like saluting,” I replied.
That brought a huge smile on the face of Pariventhan who was a co-worker in an organisation I worked, responsible for accommodation arrangements for project staff in a remote location. ‘Very sincere in his work and he handles money and materials meticulously. He talks a lot, is harmless though,’ was what people opined about him as I had just moved in as a site engineer.
The next morning when I met Pari in his office, he said, “At 3 am, I went round this accommodation camp on night vigil and that is my routine. Today, I spotted two strangers wielding weapons, trying to tamper the fence and break-in. I shouted and they ran. Otherwise, many residents would’ve lost their valuables.” “Great job,” I lauded him. He beamed a smile and went on, “This is nothing. When I was in Punjab at the peak of terrorism, I drove my jeep, chased and nabbed four hardcore terrorists who were speeding on their bikes”. Hearing his daring mission, my hair stood on my end.
Another day, I asked him whether he had any assignment with IPKF in Sri Lanka. “Oh, did I not tell you that? LTTE supremo Prabhakar and I once dined in the same table. It was before the break of hostilities with LTTE. But I must tell you about a day I had in Dras in Kargil. During an operation, one of our officers was dangling on a rope in a snow covered peak. The rope was about to snap. We flew in a helicopter. Tied to a rope, I lowered myself and pulled him back.”
“What about your children?” I asked and he said, “Two; they both study in an international residential school in Ooty”.
After a month, a set of colleagues came to me and said, “So, you are fascinated by the adventures of Captain Cool. That’s how we ‘ve named him. You know what! He was not a captain but was driver in the army. We don’t belittle any job. Just to tell you that he wasn’t a Captain. His children stay with his mother in their native place and study in a private school – not any international residential stuff. What he says about him are all fictitious. We did a CBI work and uncovered his versions. Poor guy. He’s not aware of that.”
The master paintings of Pari fell down one by one in my mind. ‘Harmless though’ I recalled what people said in the beginning. What if he continues to enchant people with his stories and why should these people do a CBI job? A sense of anger welled up in me and I couldn’t reason it out. Perhaps, certain enchanting screen savers in life are better left undisturbed!
