Down Diya Brigade

 

Source: https://cartoonrob.com/tag/booing/ 

 In my class section in high school, there was a group of boys who weren’t particularly good at anything—neither academics, sports, music, looks, nor even cracking a decent joke. But they were united by one common act: Booing anyone and everyone in the class who, in their view, dared to step out of line. 

With my outspokenness, sometimes unusual, and often outlandish questions and ideas, I quickly became a regular target. Was there any malice or serious bullying involved? Not really, it was just their way of maintaining a social hierarchy built on colourless mediocrity. I christened them the "Down Diya Brigade"— Down Diya in Assamese-English slang meant to pull someone down.

Years passed. Most of them faded into lower to middle-rung bureaucracy. One drank himself to death in his early forties. Never the type to keep in touch with “fellow inmates”—I mean, classmates, I stayed connected with only a few.
Then one day, someone posted my picture in a class Facebook group. One of the Brigade’s top cheerleaders couldn’t resist, came out of the woodwork and commented something to the effect of me being “fat as a pig.”

The retribution was swift. Not as scorched-earth as I initially wanted to (I left out the brutal part about his own appearance and those of his family members - some things are just not said, no matter what) but the message got through. Of course, to the silent spectators in the group, I was as always “angry and overreacting!” 

Fast-forward to the present. A friend from my old stadium days calls me, saying there's a party interested in bidding for a 15-20 Cr government tender. They have the money, and political proximity to the relevant minister—but lack technical qualifications or a track record. Could I connect them with a legitimate partner? Naturally, he gets a cut.

As so happens, I do have a client who fits the bill, but who conveyed that they would only move ahead if I led the project. So, we hold a first meeting with his party, followed by a second one with my client. In both, my “friend” kept highlighting our long-standing friendship, my deep knowledge of boats and rivers. But each time, he ended his pitch by laughing and calling me a complete crackpot.

Was he trying to be funny? Playing the same old social dominance game? Or just too thick to realize that calling the key person in a potential 20 Cr project, a nutcase, is not very confidence inspiring for all involved. But then again, it’s typical behaviour in this part of the world, especially here in Assam. 

They want your work, your knowledge, your contacts: All preferably for free, or in exchange for vague promises. But, they will still begin the conversation by shaming your body and end it by questioning your sanity.

I kept my morose evaluation of his behaviour to myself, with the thought: "What else to expect from Moose?" Yes, the same, from Archie comics, as that's what some of us called him behind his back, though he preferred being compared to Arnold - muscleman, terminator and ex-governor.

 

The  Maa Kali Dal, my codename for Moose's party, came with several polite demands - from details of my client's past work orders, to my writing concept notes, providing technical specs for a new tender, and making river inspections. Basically everything they could think of, except discussing my terms of engagement and professional fees. 

Now, I don't know whether it was due to my being introduced as a crackpot, or not being available for free service, they too soon disappeared, not to be heard of again.

Saying "C'est la Vie" doesn't apply in these situations.
It's either something totally outlandish, idiotic or just characteristically Oxomiya!!
Because out here, anyone who is either talented, hardworking, artistic, honest, purpose-driven, original, visionary or just plain fearless is denigrated with one word - "Pagol".

The meaning, you guessed it..,