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V Gangadhar

Calendar Days

The only calendar I really wanted to posses was the one which featured Marilyn Monroe in the buff. When asked if she had anything on while she posed for the calendar, the irresponsible Marilyn was supposed to have replied, "Of course, I had the radio on." Who says Marilyn was a dumb blonde? Again, I read somewhere that, as spring approached, a young woman's fancies always turned to love. We have no spring here. But, as the cooler months approach, my thoughts always turn to calendars and diaries.

Ever since I began working from home, there is a definite lull on the calendar/diary front. The neighbours no longer smile at me. The milkman, postman and sabjiwala (vegetable seller) do their chores minus their personal touch. The dhobi (washerman) dumps the ironed clothes and disappears. Perhaps they all know I cannot oblige them with diaries and calendars. These days, I have to ask my more 'influential and popular' friends to spare me a couple of calendars; often, they too are unable to help. As for diaries, I buy a couple from the local shop.

At times, I feel disillusioned at the prospect of not being able to supply calendars and diaries to friends. Yet, there was a golden period in my life when I became the most popular citizen of my neighbourhood just before the new year. Friends and neighbours suddenly became more attentive and friendly, the postman, milkman and dhobi brigade worked with extra zeal to please me. Even the people in the neighbourhood who I did not know personally smiled and wished me.

Those were the days when I worked as a clerk in the purchase department of Calico Mills, Ahmedabad. As the only non-Gujarati employee, I enjoyed a unique status. My department spent millions of rupees every year in purchasing assorted goods for the other departments.

As the new year approached, the merchants we dealt with were keen to exhibit their sense of obligation. They did it in different ways. The most influential members of the purchase department were the seniormost staff who were in charge of purchasing expensive items like machinery, colours, chemicals and dyes. They received, I was told, huge amounts in cash for favours shown. The slightly less senior staff who dealt with the not so-expensive goods received smaller amounts of cash, along with gifts like suit pieces, dry fruits, sweetmeats and so on.

I was an exception. I was not a local and juniormost in the staff. To my misfortune, I worked in the import licences section which did not deal directly with local merchants. My dealings were with multinationals and big firms Since we needed their help in getting imported goods, the firms did not bother about giving gifts. But their representatives distributed diaries and calendars. And they were the best in the market.

I was the recipient of hundreds of these items. Gosh, I very well remember the wonderful calendars and diaries distributed by firms like Hoechst, Chika, ICI, Gannon Dunkerley, Colourchem, W H Brady, Eastman Kodak and so on. They carried beautiful pictures, paintings and photographs and were printed on the finest paper.

The calendars and diaries began to arrive by the middle of December and my headaches began. Friends and colleagues from other departments began to drop in at my desk with alarming frequency. There was some heartburn, because some of them felt I had distributed the better quality calendars to others. "You are always giving away the best calendars to the girls," complained a friend. I had to plead guilty. After all, I was 25, unmarried and had an eye for pretty girls.

Every evening, after the day's work was over, it was embarrassing to carry all those calendars home. It was a sort of public proclamation that I was overloaded with riches. Obviously, the neighbours landed in strength. It was fascinating to study their reactions. The men were always eager to lay their hands on calendars which had a bit of cheesecake. But they were cowed down by stern looks from their wives and had to opt for the ones which showed natural scenery or better, the Hindu Gods and Goddesses.

Most of the leading Indian firms understood the psychology of their clients and brought out two kinds of calendars. One kind featured beautiful women and film actress. The other had pictures of Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva, Lakshmi and Saraswati! The pictures of the goddesses were the work of traditional painters like Kerala's Ravi Varma. He also painted pictures of beautiful, busty women which adorned many of the calendars. These were in great demand! The men who took them explained they had always supported 'Indian art'.

The calendars arrived fast and disappeared ever faster. I tried to be equitable in my distribution, but there were occasional hassles. Some friends returned the calendars they had taken because their wives did not like them and asked for replacements. By the third week of January, though, the flood of calendars was reduced to a trickle and life slowly came back to normal.

Today, all that has changed. Sometimes, there is no calendar in the house even on January 15, which made it difficult to tabulate the milk, dhobi and vegetable accounts. The issue was resolved by my wife who managed to get a calendar from one of her friends. It was plain one, without any pictures.

How the mighty have fallen!

Collage: Dominic Xavier