The Indian Space Research Organization stood proudly on the coast of Bangalore. It had undoubtedly surpassed the dreams of its founders, shouldering huge achievements in its short span. It possessed the task of representing India in space sector, and it did its job excellently. Thus the ISRO shared an unquestioned position in the space sector.
A position that would be questioned to tonight.
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‘Are you telling that my probe is malfunctioning?’ B.S asked the employee. Now B.S is not the initials of my boss. Though we had made him believe it stood for Boss of the Section, its actual meaning remained as Big Sneeze. Have you ever heard of the phrase ‘scared the life out of him'? Well with B.S it was always ‘sneezed the life out of him'. You have to see him sneeze, it looks like his body and soul parts for a moment and emerges the next.
‘No sir.’ The employee answered nervously. Not only his mouth sneezed, but if not treated right, it sneezed ‘You are fired!’.
‘We think it might be a meteor’
‘You think? Think? Its been three hours and you say think? First of all its radars would have notified us if anything was to collide with it. God! They say I work in one of the best institutions, but they don’t know anything after three goddamned hours.’
Now B.S had a problem, his chances of sneezing grew with his emotion. This was evident during his daughter's wedding toast, where he got so emotional that he managed to sneeze his cup of wine onto the groom's ten thousand-dollar dress. And yes, my narcissism got less attention here.
Back from wardrobe malfunction to our probe malfunction. So our employee is standing there, not knowing what to do. If he replies, he will probably elevate our boss' emotional and sneezing level, and if he does not speak, our boss will sign the termination letter for inefficiency. Either way is dead end. What will he do…
‘Sir’ he spoke as he desperately as he thought for an answer. He was like a deer, who was cornered by a pride of lions. Lions that hadn't eaten for days. He had to do something, or it affects his career or his dress. Not knowing what to do, our employer cowered in silence, not speaking until he finally found an answer.
He found one.
‘Sir…’ he began, his eyes screaming fear, his heart throbbing loudly in his chest. He spoke, his fear evident from his voice. ‘Sir, I have to wee-wee.’
‘What the hell? In this moment of national emergency that’s all you think. A goddamned potty? Y…y…you' signs of sneezing began to show ‘ a…are a…a s…son of a…a’ and he went hanging.
‘Sir I seriously have to go to toilet.’
The employee ran out, slammed and held the door as the timer on the bomb ticked vigorously. At last it blasted, shaking the whole office with its sneeze. This is what the scientists call a ‘contained explosion’. His quick thinking had saved the whole office, and his dress.
And his presence of mind was did something else to; make B.S leave a letter on his desk stating that he indeed had been fired.
