My Zen Cat and the Brassiere Man! (2)
When I first began to realize that the meaning of the word Zen was stitched neatly inside the grey brown bronze coat of that terrace cat, small crumbs of magic began to seep out of our connection. It slowly became clear that Heaven had not really been deaf to my prayers about helping me to deal with the two cranky, crooked, curdled and cantankerous seniors at work! Instead it had sent me a free class of Zen learning with a very enchanting free Monk. The only difference was that this Monk preferred catnip to tea!
I could not believe that the painstakingly researched, fiercely dug out stories that I gave them, only became a snack for them to chew on and slide inside their computers while I was broiled and fried up inside that octopus of oily mediocrity that swirled inside them like a small sea!
This time I had dug out a story about this incredibly horrid little website on the internet which was selling believe it or not, brassieres to cure cancer, panties to cure Aids, ‘herbal’ oils and creams to cure male sexual disorders etc. It was a regular little mall selling everything that it should not be selling, and making a lot of money with it. When I had written about him in my column, I got a lot of phone calls from women and men who sheepishly admitted that they had actually bought these products! And what saddened me the most was that two intelligent, educated women, whom I knew, had actually bought those dreadful brassieres!
The next day in the office one of the two seniors (my office demons) called me curtly to his desk in the middle, where all could hear us, and introduced me to a very small man, hardly four feet six inches tall, who had come to threaten us with a legal notice for writing about their website!
I was so excited to actually meet someone so despicable in real life (all that while I was thinking that it was all coming out of some internet hole!) that I pounced on him and he actually retreated! He was carrying a large dark grubby looking box in which was all the literature of that scam!
When he noticed that I was more furious than frightened, he looked for help to the office Boss. Instead of listening to me, my senior boss squeaked at me gruesomely and said I was always getting the paper into trouble with my meddlesome investigative stories. But when I told the tepid little man that I was not afraid of any legal actions from him, as the firm was guilty of treading on the feet of the Magic Remedies Act, he backed off. I also told him that the consumer court Judge also had agreed with me that the company needed to be checked out and to get as much material as possible from them. As I reached for that shiny orange and red bag, the small man disappeared quicker than a small rain shower.
But I was still sore, for being scolded for no reason at all, and even more depressed that the senior above me was so clueless about such a simple case of scam and so malignant. So I rushed off to meet my Zen Cat and she had only this one sentence to say “why should you even know such atrocious Men?!” And as she sat there and breathed in the beauty of the planet and rested on her serenity, I was soothed at once.
Her look seemed to say “Office scum and Brassiere Scam Men? Really? Can’t you do better than that?” And so I settled down to some meditating with her and the tea time sun glowed down upon us approvingly!