A little about the “maids”
1. An “animal farm”:- where the animals are led by either a Queen B or a selfish little pig (or a bunch of selfish little “more equal” pigs) whose whim takes them everywhichway they wouldn’t have like to go were the “farm” as free and KeHizbu/BeHizbu/LeHizbu as it’s leaders claim it to be
2. A “zoo”:- where the animals are allowed free roaming in a controlled environment
3. And ‘the jungle’ (or the wild):- where the animals go everywhichway they want and “kill or be killed” is the rule of the day.
The animals here are of various kind and temperament too. But can generally be categorized into three groups: the bosses, the workers and the ‘Gereds’.
These are people who lurk behind the masters and can make life either difficult or pleasant to the workers. They are the snitches, the watch dogs, the whistles blowers or, as generally considered by the working group, “sniveling little” [Twits? Weasels? Skunks?] who creep in the shadow of the glory of their masters (real or imagined) for a little trip to the land of “somebody” of a “nobody”! They are as unreliable and shifty as the moods of their master, and sometimes as unkind.
They have no life of their own, these little folks with big devotions and infinite patience, but the little life allowed to them by “their” bosses! They have no name in themselves, but the little they could get their hands on by association – as can be seen from their continuous reference of themselves in plural, “Egna”! No joy, except from the crumbs which fall from the master’s table. Or face to be exact!
They are not exactly the “Uriah Peep” of this world, except perhaps in the smoothness of voice and “cloying humility, obsequiousness, and general insincerity”. Because there is no real “catch”, neither greed nor ambition, to their “game”. It’s but a mentality, and a role in life, of playing second fiddle to bigger people, cooler people, or those that *appear to be* to them. Of dying in the glory of ‘heroes’ and ‘martyrs’, in something bigger than [little, insignificant] you. A faceless, nameless, starved death of a life unappreciated by all, of a person trusted by none, and intensely disliked by him/her he/she followed. Perhaps like associating with “big” people makes little people feel big; associating with “little people” (or those who be-littled themselves) can be-little the pigs.. i mean bigs?! That certainly was the way it went in Kipling’s days; where all a lady needs to do to jeopardize her reputation was “talk to the maids”.
True! You don’t get to choose those you come across in life (like you don’t get to choose your family and old age – you just resign yourself to them :-)!). But you can choose to make your human contact with them as “little” as possible. And have atleast one plant in your office that your eyes can wonder over to.
P.S. The above post has no association, whatsoever, to the post hereunder.
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