Plip!…. Plip!….Plip!”
“Do Something! For God’s sake, do something!” she wailed.
Tired as I was after a hard day’s effort in the rough and sand traps, I wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. So I ignored her.
“Are you even listening?” she asked.
I ignored her again. But it is difficult to keep ignoring the little woman if she pokes you in the ribs—hard!
“What is it now?” I said irritably.
“Can’t you hear the water dripping? We must do something about it.”
Has anyone ever collected data on the number of instances when a wife wants to do something about something while the husband wants to do nothing about anything? This is certainly a fascinating field of research just waiting to be explored, though I suspect that the frequency distribution would be predictably skewed.
“Could it be the neighbour’s tap? It isn’t really making much noise, is it?” I asked. Everyone knows that the first step in problem solving is to blame others and/or downplay the problem.
She glared at me. I meekly asked, “So how do you expect me to fix it?”
“Well, you could call a plumber!”
“In the middle of the night?” I asked incredulously. Effective problem solving requires highlighting the difficulties in solving the problem.
Illustration: Job P.K.
“Call the blighter in the morning then, but for God’s sake do something about that noise! Now!”
Even as I reluctantly got out of bed, I asked, “Darling, are you sure you want me to do something? I might slip on the wet floor in the bathroom.” In management jargon, this is called ‘Amplified Anticipated Adverse Consequences’. If one can raise the spectre of greater problems arising from solving a smaller problem, then a solution to the smaller problem need not be found.
I was going to wax eloquent on the complications due to broken hips but she snapped, “Will you fix it or what?”
I shuffled off to the bathroom, just so the missus would stop grumbling. I pushed a bucket under the tap and adjusted its position so that the dripping water fell on its sloping side.
“There! I have fixed it!” I said loudly from the bathroom. More important than actually solving a problem is to claim that you have done something about it.
I returned to bed. There was peace! Absolute peace! And so to sleep—perchance to dream. But soon the little woman poked me in the ribs again.
“The damn thing is dripping again!” she complained. This time, I could hear it too. With the bucket now half full of water, every drop was splashing with a louder ‘plop’ than the muted ‘plips’ of the bucketless circumstances.
Plip!….Plop!….Plop!…. Plip! Plop!…. Plip!!
So off to the bathroom I went again. I turned the bucket upside down and this time adjusted its position so that the water dripped on the sloping outer surface.
“I have fixed it!” I announced loudly for the benefit of the wife and the world in general.
I prayed that there would be no further excitement that night. It is well known that if a problem can’t be solved, one should pray.
Peace prevailed once more. The little woman and I slept, even though the muted ‘plip-plop’ became a part of the dream that I quietly slipped into. By morning, the drip had miraculously stopped by itself. Maybe my prayers had worked. Or maybe the ‘plip-plop’ was not audible above the morning noises. Or it could be because of El Nino. Or climate change. Or something. Whatever might have been the reason, I thanked the Almighty.
The night-long exertions proved that my problem-solving methods are flawless. I am convinced that the UNO, NATO, the BIMSTEC and even the SCO have all studied my technique and copied it. All governments follow it, because it is as easy as 1, 2, and 3. To recap: As the first step, don’t acknowledge the problem. Then downplay it or blame someone else. Next, announce it can’t be solved. Follow up by declaring that solving it will create other greater problems. Then claim that the problem has been solved. Keep temporising till it goes away. And all the while, pray and pray that the problem will solve itself. Simple!
I suspect many management gurus would be sceptical about the universal applicability of my technique. These doubting Thomases need wait for just a few days, as another winter of our discomfort draws near. Delhiwalas refer to it as the season of mists and shallow breathlessness, because stubble burning and temperature inversion make the national capital region into a gas chamber every winter. People shall clamour for the government to ‘do something’ this year too. Executive, legislative, and even judicial initiatives will be suggested. There will be much breast beating and apportioning of blame. Just wait and see—my methods of managing problems will be meticulously observed, step by step, till the problem will be finally solved through divine intervention in January, when strong westerly disturbances will blow the smog away!
K.C. Verma is former chief of R&AW. kcverma345@gmail.com