Call me Mister, Yo Salesman!

I got a call today from a call centre. The caller asked, "Am I speaking with Shubhranshu?"

I said, "No, you are speaking with Mister Shubhranshu."

The caller was stumped for a few moments, stuttered and said, "Of course, Mr. Shubhranshu." Then he went ahead with his monotone selling some insurance policy, or holiday plan or credit card. I don't remember what it was since I had switched off due to his rudeness in addressing me.

These call centre guys and gals are called "executives". Well, they are surely not trained or evolved like executives. I would expect an executive to call me Mister if he calls me in English, or a Ji, if in Hindi, or a Garu or a Moshai, if in Telugu or Bangla respectively. No, Mr. Executive, I am not your friend, nor I am a resident of the US. You may even have a newly acquired American accent drilled into you through some idiotic training plan. I may be a rustic dehati, but show me reverence that a customer deserves. 

You may have the best hotel discounts, the most comprehensive insurance policy or the greatest credit card with complementary lounge accesss at all airports in the world, but do address me with respect if you want to sell your wares.

Else, I am not interested. Don't bother to call me again. I have put you on the Call-me-Mister registry.

मेरा राज्य बिहार

भारत के प्राचीन देश में मेरा राज्य बिहार

सबसे पहले यहीं बनी थी प्रजातंत्र सरकार

प्रजातंत्र सरकार विश्व की पथप्रदर्शिका

संस्कृति की औ' मानवता की मार्गदर्शिका

यही बिहार का राज्य रहा जो विश्वगुरु कहलाता था

विक्रमशिला और नालंदा, ज्ञान से गहरा नाता था

जब किंतु वे नष्ट हुए उबर नहीं पाया अबतक

क्लांतिहीन हो गया राज्य जो ज्ञानपुंज का था रक्षक

नये देश ने उत्साहित हो बागडोर सँभाली थी

जैसे ही इस अँधियारे में राह निकलने वाली थी

तभी डँस गया नाग विषैला फिर घेरा अँधियारे ने

सूखा ठूँठ बस बचा जहाँ फूलों की सुंदर डाली थी

छात्र हुए हैं दिशाहीन, शिक्षक कर्त्तव्य से स्खलित हुए

मात-पिता अति चिंतित हैं, संतान-व्यथा से गलित हुए

याद करो मागध, वैशाली और जनक के वैभवकाल

गंगा से सिंचित ये धरती क्यों होती रहती बेहाल

लूट-खसोट और धमकी-बलवे दिनचर्या में आम हुए

अपहरण, फिरौती, बेदख़ली और कितने क़त्लेआम हुए

भ्रमित-भयातुर जन पशुओं की भाँति दुबके बैठ रहे

जातिवाद, लालच, हथियार प्रजातंत्र के दाम हुए

भ्रष्टाचार, निष्कर्म, निरर्थक शासन, कुछ ना होता है

बेबस, मूक नागरिक बस अपनी क़िस्मत को रोता है

भई किसान की भूमि सूखी जो वृष्टि ने आँखें फेरीं

हर ग़रीब और हर किसान क़र्ज़ों का बोझा ढोता है

बुद्ध, महावीर की धरती तनिक शांति को रोती है

मॉं अपने बच्चे क़िस्मत पर जगती ना सोती है

रक्षक भक्षक बन बैठे, अपनी रोटी हैं सेंक रहे

जनता वहीं चिता से लगकर ख़ाली पेटों सोती है

NO FRILLS, AT WHAT COST?

Are the"no-frills" airlines, who charge you for the snacks and meals on board, really saving any money or simplifying their on-board services? Unlike the standard meal casseroles of a "full-service" airline, they actually offer your meals a la carte, much like first or business class of full-service airlines, hardly a no-frills feature.

This is how it goes:

The air-hostess, pushing the trolley, looks up a printout, "Hmm, 21A, Mr. Gupta Sir?" 

Mr. Gupta has dozed off and wakes up with a start, "Yes?"

"Sir, you have prebooked a veg meal, right?"

"No, I had booked a non-veg meal. There must be a mistake."

"No, Sir! The chart here says veg wonly."

Mr. Gupta loses his cool, "No, I want non-veg wonly."

Air-hostess gives up, "Okay, Sir! Non-veg is fifty rupees extra, but I will get you that."

Mr. Gupta is now happy at the fifty bucks profit he just made, "So, what-what do you have in non-veg?"

"Sir, chicken sandwich and chicken roll."

"What? This is a morning flight. Who eats chicken in the morning? Don't you have omelette?"

The air-hostess is now getting restless. She has spent over five minutes on just one passenger and has not even begun to serve him. Says, "Let me check, Sir."

She rushes to the pantry and comes back, " Sir, we have masala omelette and home-style omelette."

Mr. Gupta is now spoilt for choice, a privilege, which only business class passengers enjoy. Exclaims, "Get me masala omelette, then! No, no, wait! Who wants masala in the morning? Get me home-style omelette."

He is served and the hostess looks up the chart once again, "21D, Mr. Subramanian, Sir?"

Mr. Subramanian is deep in his thoughts. She says again, a little louder this time, "MR. SUBRAMANIAN, SIR!"

Mr. Subramanian is jolted out of his meditation and shouts, "Wh.., What happened?"

Air-hostess is taken aback, "S.., Sir! You are a corporate traveller. So, you are entitled to a complimentary snack. What would you like Sir?"

Mr. Subramanian is smiling on getting a free snack, "Get me medu vadai and sambhar, please!"

"Sir, we have only poha and vegetable pasta." She regretfully says. 

Mr. Subramanian's smile turns into a scorn, "Is poha even a snack? And, who wants pasta just before a meeting? No, no, I want medu vada, or idly wonly."

The air-hostess almost jumps out of her boots, "Idly, Sir? Yes, we do have idly. But, no sambhar, Sir. I can give you pudina chatni instead."

Mr. Subramanian, being a gentleman, surrenders, "Wokay, get me idly and pudina chatni, then."

He is served and the meals cart moves on.

Mr. Subramanian harks, "Madam, Do you have filter coffee?"

The air-hostess ignores the call, more due to being called madam than filter coffee not being available on board.

Then someone, who has not prebooked a meal, calls out, "Could I have a chicken roll please?"

"Sir, that would be three hundred rupees. If you had prebooked, you could have got it for just two hundred and seventy-five rupees."

"Okay, I will pay." the chastised and financially devastated passenger says.

"Sir, you need to give me three hundred rupees change." The seller of wares says.

"What do you mean by three hundred rupees change? I could understand if it was two hundred and seventy five." But, he fishes out three hundred from his wallet and the air-hostess smiles in gratitude.

And, this goes on and on, from either end of the aisle, two trolleys being pushed by four air-hostesses. The path to the toilets is blocked nearly for the entire duration of the two-hour flight.

Have they really done some calculations of their real costs of serving a la carte meals, a la business class, on payment? Wouldn't it be much simpler and far cheaper to just serve a single type of free meal to all passengers and earn some goodwill in return as well?

अनुस्वार की महिमा

आपने उर्दू ज़बान में नुक़्ते के हेर-फेर से होने वाले अनर्थ के बारे में सुना होगा। हिंदी में अनुस्वार के प्रयोग में वैसी ही सावधानी वांछित है। हिंदी भाषा के विशारद आपको बताएँगे कि किसी को बहुवचन में पुकारने में अनुस्वार लगाना अशुद्ध है। जैसे बच्चों को पुकारना है तो आपको कहना चाहिये, "बच्चो!" न कि "बच्चों!" ग़ौर करें कि सही शब्द में अनुस्वार नहीं लगाया गया है। यह मात्र वर्त्तनी का दोष नहीं है, व्याकरण का है।

यदि आप अपनी बिल्डिंग के निवासियों को सोसाइटी की किसी सभा में बुलाएँगे तो कहेंगे, "भाइयो और बहनो! कल चार बजे की सभा में अवश्य आइयेगा!" न कि "भाइयों और बहनों!" यह अलग बात है कि आप कई महिलाओं को बहन कहना नहीं चाहते। फिर आपका संबोधन होगा, महिलाओ और सज्जनो!" क्या कह आपने? कुछ लोग तो सज्जन कहे जाने योग्य ही नहीं हैं? चलिये छोड़िये, आप कौनसी बात ले बैठे? फिर उन्हें "पुरुषो" से पुकार लीजिये। अब पुरुष से भी कोई समस्या है क्या?

आशा है आप भाषा की यह यह शुद्धता समझ गये होंगे। अब यदि कोई ज़ोर से आपको पुकारे, "मित्रों!" चाहे सड़क चलते पुकार ले, या टीवी-रेडियो पर, तब आप क्या करेंगे? चुपचाप इस भावुकता भरी पुकार को व्याकरण का प्रमाद समझकर अनसुना कर दीजिये और वहाँ से खिसक लीजिये। इसी में आपकी भलाई है। अपना बटुआ भी संभाल लीजियेगा। कोई अनहोनी हो जाये तो यह मत कहियेगा कि मैंने व्याकरण का पाठ ठीक से नहीं पढ़ाया।

GREEN ACTIVISM or THE UNMAKING OF MAKE-IN-INDIA

During my interaction with a Chamber of Industries in Karur (Tamil Nadu) I came across the President of the Truck and Bus Body Builders' Association, people who build buses and lorries on bare chassis.

I asked the gentleman how his business was doing. He said that the business was down. Upon being asked the reason an alarming story of de-industrialisation and de-employment unfolded like layers of an onion.  It went on like this:

1. Bus body building was down since fewer buses were being brought into circulation.

2. The demand for buses had fallen since the number of intra-city travellers and commuters from nearby villages had come down.

3. The number of commuters had come down since the textile and garment industry in the Coimbatore-Tiruppur-Erode-Karur area was in decline.

4. The textile industry was in decline since they were being priced out in the market.

5. Their prices had gone up since they now had to send their fabric to Rajasthan for dying, which added to their costs. Trucking from Tamil Nadu to Rajasthan and back, attendant handling costs and managerial time was pushing them out of business.

6. They were forced to send the cloth all the way to Rajasthan since the TN State Pollution Control Board decided, one fine day, that the dying industry in the world famous textile belt of the State was a polluting industry. All the dying units were forced to shut down almost overnight sending thousands of labourers into unemployment and misery.

It appeared that most states in India were shutting down textile dying industry on account of pollution. They seemed to ignore that dying was an essential activity. Government's intervention was required to ensure that it was done in environment-friendly ways and not to shut down the industry.

I asked the people around what they would do when Rajasthan also shut down its dying industry, which was eventually inevitable given the shortsightedness of our government agencies, which increasingly work more like activists than enablers.

They said, "We will stop manufacturing, import Chinese or Bangladeshi fabric and trade in it." 

So, the writing on the wall in Tamil Nadu is clear - a few lakh artisans will lose their jobs and their families will be thrown into penury. It may happen in the short span of a few years. Since factories will close down, they will also have surplus electricity. So, they can also shut down some power plants making the air even cleaner and create some more joblessness. 

Soon, the artisans will either migrate to menial labour or, in any case, lose their traditional skills due to disuse. Our economic slavery to China will be complete. But, we will be able to breathe air as healthy as that in Switzerland and drink water as clean as that from Himalayan springs. 

CHAMBER vs CHAMBER

"See me in my office chamber!" Haven't we heard this statement often in government offices? Elsewhere a simple "see me in my office" would suffice, But a babu is more specific. It is his office chamber, no less.

Such qualification of the location is necessary. His office is either the entire building or a floor or a wing on a floor with all its broken furniture, unkempt surroundings, beetle-juice stains, gossiping employees and strewn paper and files. But the officer's office chamber is an oasis in a desert, with split air-conditioners, polished desk, swanky chairs, a PC, a multifunction printer that often performs no function, a laptop kept casually open to impress, a few English newspapers to keep the sahib busy and what have you. All behind a hermetically sealed door to keep the filth out.

What is a chamber anyway? Ask a municipal worker what he understands by a chamber and he will tell you that it is a manhole that is used for inspecting and cleaning the underground sewage gutter. Yes, it has all the features of a sahib' chamber - it has a door or a cover, it is insulated from its surroundings and has local climate control as well. As for the contents and the occupant, well .. ..

Why the Fax Machine Refuses to Die

The fax machine is now oh-so-old-fashioned! With electronic communication, such as email, workflow systems and collaborative platforms becoming commonplace, who would use the facsimile anymore? The answer is, government offices. The fax machine is basically a super high speed Speedpost, which sends a document in a few minutes against a day or two. Does it result in speedier working? Why do we need the printed paper out of the fax machine anyway, if we can print out an email and use it the same way? This has intrigued me for long.

In recent times I, as most of other Sarkari Babus, have been receiving letters through four separate channels, viz. the WhatsApp, email, Fax and Regular Post. The sender gets a letter typed out by his PA, takes a photo with his/her smartphone and sends it pat to the recipients in an instant. Sometimes the PA does the photography too. The sender expects a quick reply by “return WhatsApp”. But he is not sure if the receiver is responsible enough. So, he sends an email, then a fax and then again, the very same paper by surface mail. Then again, he calls up the recipient on phone and asks him if he has received WhatsApp, email and fax.

Why doesn’t a simple email work in the government office? The reason is that a government file understands only paper. So, whether it is a WhatsApp or an email attachment, it must be printed and “placed on file”. Fax is a friendly device since it gives a paper, ready to file. The letter or the document is placed on the “file side” or “letter side” then it is serially numbered. The clerk “puts up” the file to the sahib with his “noting” on the “noting side”. The clerk adds no value, except link some older correspondence placed earlier in the file. But “put up” he must. Without a file “duly” put up, the sahib is crippled. He can’t just pick up a letter and act on it. He must “pass his order” on the noting side and noting side alone. The noting side is where the government speaks.

In spite of multiple exhortations, we Babus have not taken to modern ways of working. The main reason is not our fear of technology. It is our inability to change the way a file is handled in a typical sarkari office. The file has a letter side and a noting side, both linked by manual referencing, “please see para A at F/119 and previous noting of 12-7-16 at ns/12” and so on. This is not amenable to computerisation and workflow. A workflow is efficient if it is linear, with as little branching-off enroute as possible. We must therefore design a workflow, which does not mirror the archaic file system. It must work efficiently from “desk to desk” or user to user. There will probably be no act of "putting up" by a clerk. Referencing to earlier documents should be automatic with hyperlinks and embedding. It requires that all new files be created online, the existing ones being closed as they outlive their purpose.

The fax machine must die. WhatsApp, as an official document handling medium, must die too. Sending documents by WhatsApp may appear a tech savvy act, but it is worse than a fax as there is very little you can do on that small screen. Sending letters by email is passé too, it still has to be printed and placed on the same archaic file.

A good workflow, therefore, requires that the documents be created online, not scanned or photographed. Natively created documents are easy to search and link. There will be no place for Office Superintendents and Section Officers. The Bada Sahib will have to learn how to type and read documents on a screen. There will be no opportunity for dictating a letter to the PA and asking the peon to fax it to the Head Quarters.

We must have a good computerised workflow system for collaborative working, nothing less.

Are we up to it? Not yet, I am afraid.

Airlines Khap Panchayat

Airlines have taken things a bit too far this time. In the manner of khap panchayats or rogue trade unions they have ganged up to bar a Member of Parliament from flying. It is sad that no airline has abstained from this cartel-like behaviour.

The traveller, as reported, had created a scene at the airport. Same reports also say that he flung a printer down, but there are no reports of any attack on an airline staffer. Misbehaviour, if any, at the Airport should be dealt under airport rules or under laws on vandalism, assault etc., but not by airlines rules.

The traveller had not even been issued a boarding pass. Merely buying a ticket doesn't make him a flyer. For being a flyer, he should be inside the aircraft. If misbehaviour at the check-in counter puts one on the no-flyer list, we can extend this argument to absurd limits - an argument with an airline porter over wages, an argument or misbehaviour over excess baggage, a scuffle in the car parking lot with an airline staff or a fight with him in the vegetable market.

The airlines have got emboldened by the way the earlier case was handled. But, that was an act of misbehaviour and assault INSIDE the aircraft, hence airlines rules applied. If every service provider starts putting customers on no-service lists, I don't know what the laws of the land would be used for.

I do not agree with the airlines this time.

साईकिल और मैनेजमेंट

एक सज्जन, उतावले से, परेशान से, सड़क पर दौड़े चले जा रहे थे। दाहिने हाथ में साईकिल का हैंडल पकड़े खींच रहे थे, दूसरे हाथ में एक पट्टेवाला डब्बा झूल रहा था जो बार-बार उनके घुटने से टकराता और वे उसे कोसते। कंधे पर एक काला बैग लटक रहा था जो बार-बार सरकता था और वे महाशय अपना बायाँ हाथ पूरा ऊपर उठाकर बैग को कंधे पर वापस चढ़ा रहे थे। सज्जन बुरी तरह हाँफ़ रहे थे, माथे पर पसीना चमक रहा था जिसे वे बायें हाथ की आस्तीन से रह-रह कर पोछ लेते थे।

मैं उनके बग़ल से अपने स्कूटर पर गुज़रा तो उनकी परेशानी देखकर मैंने स्कूटर की गति धीमी कर ली। थोड़ी देर तक मैं उन सज्जन के समानांतर चलता रहा, पर उन्होंने अपनी बदहवासी में मेरी ओर नज़र भी नहीं डाली।

आख़िर जब मुझसे उनकी परेशानी और नहीं देखी गई, तब मैंने पूछ ही लिया - भाई साहब, आप क्यों इतने परेशान दिख रहे हैं और कहाँ दौड़े चले जा रहे हैं?

वे बोले - दफ़्तर को देर हो रही है। दस बज गये, लगता है आज बड़े साहब से फिर डाँट सुननी पड़ेगी। 

मैंने पूछा - आपकी साईकिल ख़राब हो गई है क्या?

वे बोले - नहीं, क्यों?

मैंने पूछा - फिर आप साईकिल पर बैठ क्यों नहीं जाते, जल्दी पहुँच जाइयेगा।

सज्जन ने मेरी तरफ़ अजीब निगाहों से देखा, जो कह रही थीं ,"अजीब अहमक है, इतना भी नहीं समझता?" फिर बोले - साईकिल पर बैठने का टाईम किसे है?

हम मैनेजर लोग इसी उहापोह में फँसे रहते हैं। प्लानिंग का टाईम किसे है? अरे, ट्रेनिंग में क्यों पैसा और समय ख़राब करना? सब कुछ फटाफट जो करना है। बस साईकिल पकड़ी और दौड़ पड़े!

Requiem for Lal Batti (लाल बत्ती का शोक)

जब से उजड़ा है सरकारी वाहन का सिंदूर
ग़ायब नेता अधिकारी के चेहरे का है नूर
चेहरे का है नूर बड़ी मायूसी छाई
हाय कहॉं है रश्मि का रथ, कहॉं है कोहेनूर!

जब नेता जी कभी निकलते थे पिक्चर बाज़ार
छँटे रास्ते की सब भीड़ मिले सलाम हज़ार
मैडम जी की किटी पार्टी की रौनक़ भी तभी बने
जब वे आवें लाल बत्ती की गाड़ी भईं सवार

सरकारी साहब के बच्चे क्रिकेट खेलने जाएँ
या स्कूल के टीचर औ' बच्चों पर रौब जमाएँ
लाल घूमती बत्ती जब गाड़ी पर चकमक करती
क्लब रेस्तराँ होटल में जमकर डिस्काउंट पाएँ

करें पार्किंग मनमर्ज़ी की, ट्राफिक सिग्नल जंप करें
नहीं कभी जुर्माना होना, नहीं कभी चालान भरें
बिना लाइसेंस के भी बाबालोग घुमाते गाड़ी हैं
आम आदमी, बाक़ी ट्राफिक, फुटपथिये सम्मान करें

लेकिन जबसे बत्ती छिन गई मन है बड़ा उदास
वी आई पी ठप्पे के बिन जग ना आए रास
टोल पार्किंग देना भारी, गति जीवन की धीमी भई
चौराहे पर ठुल्ला रोके, मन में छाये त्रास

लाल बत्ती क्या भई तिरोहित मित्र सहेलियॉं व्यंग्य करें
नौकर-चाकर, माली और चपरासी ज़्यादा तंग करें
आसमान से गिरे अचानक कठिन धरा पर मन आहत
कैसे मैडम, साहब, नेता आम-जनों का संग करें

हे प्रभु मेरा सब हर लो, हर लो दौलत धन
मेरा घर, सब रिश्ते, शोहरत सब तुमको अर्पण
(जीवन सूना, व्यर्थ है लगे है, वाहन लगे कबाड़)
पर मोटर की बत्ती लाल लौटा दो, भगवन्!
                     ---०००---

My Lesson From the Gymnasium

Last few weeks of training in a gymnasium has taught me a few things about life and management.

1. Everyone needs motivation. I always thought that CEOs or Senior Executives did not need external motivation. Their position and responsibilities are enough to keep them charged. But, it feels good when the gym instructor tells me, "Yes, you can do it. Come on! Now, that is a good boy!" Yes, he calls me a boy and I feel elated when he gives me those small bits of praise. And, I get energised to go the extra bit - a few more pull-ups, extra leg curls, some more weight on the bar or a few more stretches.

2. Rest is a chimera. When he tells me to lie down on a mat I mistakenly think that he wants me to relax. But, he has something else in store - floor exercises. He never had any thoughts to let me relax. I often feel that the guy cheats; says that I can relax and then begins a new gruelling session.

3. Work can be relaxing sometimes, or most of the times. After a gruelling workout, the treadmill or the exercycle feels like relaxation! It was quite a chore earlier for me to walk on the treadmill for even ten minutes. But, once I have worked on the stretch targets given by my gym trainer and when I feel like I would drop dead, he tells me, "Now, you can do the treadmill for five minutes!" O! What a relief these words bring to me. Mere treadmill? Thank you, Master! Even a six kmph trot on the treadmill feels like a good spell of rest.

So, friends! Don't feel small if you secretly crave that pat on your back. And, do give one to those who silently work for you. Also remember, those stretch targets never hurt anyone - just give your people (or take for yourselves) an occasional break with some light assignments; a vacation can be taken but rarely.

पंचतंत्र और नोटबंदी

एक संन्यासी था, जो दिनभर आस-पास के गाँवों में भिक्षा माँगकर गुज़र-बसर करता था। शाम को भोजन के बाद यदि कुछ अनाज बच जाता था तो वह उसे कपड़े की एक पोटली में बॉंधकर अपनी कुटिया में दीवाल पर लगी एक खूँटी पर टाँग देता था। लेकिन रात के समय एक चूहा कूद-कूद कर उसकी पोटली में छेद कर डालता और सारा अनाज चट कर जाता था। यह देख भिक्षुक ने दीवाल की खूँटी को थोड़ी ऊँचाई पर ठोक दिया। लेकिन चूहा फिर भी उछलकर पोटली का कपड़ा काट डालता और अनाज का दाना-दाना खा जाता। संन्यासी ने खूँटी को बार-बार ऊँचा, और ऊँचा किया पर चूहे में तो मानों कोई दैवी शक्ति समा गई थी। उसके कूदने की क्षमता बढ़ती ही चली जाती थी।

यही नहीं, चूहे की भूख भी असीमित प्रतीत होने लगी थी। पोटली में चाहे सिर्फ़ मु्ट्ठी भर अनाज हो या थैलीभर, चूहा रातभर में ही सारा का सारा चट कर जाता था। हैरान संन्यासी ने अपने एक मित्र से अपनी परेशानी बताई। मित्र ने संन्यासी की कुटिया की पड़ताल की, इधर-उधर देखा, दीवार और फ़र्श को ठोका-बजाया, फिर बोला - तुम्हारी कुटिया के नीचे उस शैतान चूहे ने बड़ा बिल बना रखा है, चलो ज़मीन खोदकर देखते हैं। 

जब दोनों मित्रों ने मिलकर ज़मीन खोदी तो भौंचक्के रह गये। चोर चूहे ने न सिर्फ़ अपना बिल बनाया था, बल्कि कुटिया के नीचे एक बड़ा तहख़ाना बना रखा था। उस तहख़ाने में मनों अनाज भरा हुआ था। अब संन्यासी की समझ में आया कि उसका सारा भोजन कहॉं चला जाता था। चूहा थोड़े-बहुत अनाज से अपना पेट भर लेता था, पर एक लोलुप चोर की तरह बाक़ी सारा अनाज ले जाकर अपने गुप्त तहख़ाने में जमा करता रहता था। ऐसा कर-करके जहाँ एक ओर चूहा असीमित अन्न-धन का स्वामी बन गया वहीं संन्यासी एक निर्धन भिक्षुक ही रहा।

यह सब देखकर संन्यासी के मित्र ने कहा कि हो न हो, इस कुटिल चूहे की छलाँग लगाने की इस अद्भुत शक्ति का रहस्य यह विशाल धन भंडार ही है, वर्ना एक मामूली चूहे की क्या बिसात कि इतनी ऊँची-ऊँची कूद लगाए। उसने कह - चलो इसका सारा धन नष्ट कर देते हैं। फिर दोनों ने मिलकर चूहे द्वारा संचित सारे अनाज को बाहर निकाल कर अग्नि में होम कर दिया।

फिर संन्यासी के मित्र ने उससे कहा कि आज तुम अपनी पोटली सबसे नीचे वाली कील पर टांगना, देखें चूहा क्या करता है। संन्यासी ने वैसा ही किया, और रात में सोने का नाटक करते हुए चूहे की ताक में जगा रहा। चूहा आया, लेकिन यह क्या? बिल्कुल मरी हुई-सी चाल से चूहा पोटली तक आया। फिर उसने कूद लगाई, पर आश्चर्य! इस बार उसकी उछाल कुछ अंगुलों तक ही सीमित रही। चूहे ने बड़ी कोशिश की, पर नीचे लटकी पोटली तक भी नहीं पहुँच पाया। उसने बहुत चीं-चीं की, तरह-तरह की आवाज़ें निकालीं पर कुछ नहीं हुआ। आख़िरकार थक हार कर वह कुटिया के बाहर चला गया। इयके बाद फिर वह चूहा संन्यासी की कुटिया में कभी नज़र नहीं आया। 

संन्यासी समझ गया कि चूहे की ताक़त उसके धन में ही थी। संचित धन के बल पर न सिर्फ़ वह शारीरिक शक्ति में बल्कि मानसिक आत्मविश्वास में भी अतुलनीय क्षमता का स्वामी बन गया था। धन हाथ से निकलते ही चूहे की शक्ति क्षीण हो गई और वह परास्त हो गया। 

इस कहानी का नोटबंदी से परेशान और चहुँओर कूदफांद करनेवालों से कोई संबंध नहीं है।