Wednesday, September 14, 2022




Learning from Fables By Vikram Karve


You must have heard of an Aesop’s Fable called: “The One-Eyed Doe”.

Once upon a time – there was a doe (female deer).

The doe had lost one of her eyes.

Therefore – she could not see anything on the side with her blind eye (her “blind side”).

Whenever the doe used to feed near the seashore – she used to stand in such a way that her “good eye” looked towards the land – so that she could see if any hunters were approaching – and could make a quick escape in case she saw any hunters on the land.

The doe kept her “blind eye” towards the sea – since she did not expect any threat from that side.

One day – some sailors came rowing in a boat from the sea.

They saw the doe blissfully grazing near the seashore.

Since her “blind side” was towards the sea – the doe did not see the sailors coming from the sea.

One of the sailors took aim with his gun and shot the doe.

As she was dying – heaving her last breath – the doe cried to herself:

“What a mistake I made…!!! 

I was safe on the land side where I expected to be attacked – but I was attacked from the direction of the sea which I thought was safe…”



“Danger often comes from the least expected source or direction...”

Military History shows us many examples of this “moral of the story” – where armies have been attacked from their “blind side”.

Armies and Nations are attacked by surprise from directions where they least expected to be attacked – or – in ways they least expected – or – by “enemies” who they did not expect to be adversaries.

We see many such examples in military and war history and in the intelligence domain – where one discovers dangers from directions, places and people that one thought were “safe”. This aspect of being aware of and guarding the “blind side” is all the more important in information warfare and informationised warfare.

While this fable has a lesson for the military and security forces – isn’t this fable metaphorically relevant in many other aspects of our life as well – at work, in society, in relationships – and especially in our personal life …?

Aren’t we most vulnerable from our “blind side” – emotionally – materially – in happenings – in business – in relationships – from people towards whom we have a “blind side” because we love and trust them…?

So – you must remember: 

1. Introspect – and – discover if you have a “blind side”. 

2. Be aware of your “blind side”. 

3. Never neglect your “blind side” (or “blind sides”)

Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
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© vikram karve., all rights reserved. 

Friday, September 2, 2022

Story : Male Ego








It was a pathetic sight.

A man was being manhandled by 3 men who were trying to shove him into a van.

When I went closer – I realized that the man being manhandled was totally drunk.

One of the men manhandling the inebriated drunkard was my friend – whom I had come to meet.

The intoxicated drunkard was resisting and getting violent – so – my friend gestured to me to come and help them.

I quickly walked towards the drunk man – I grabbed his neck and I pushed down his head.

“Slowly…” my friend said to me, “the bugger may die…”

The four of us managed to forcibly push the drunk man into the van.

My friend and I held the drunk man – while the other two men forced him down on the seat.

The inebriated drunkard was reeking of whisky – his body smelt as if he was sweating alcohol from his pores.

Suddenly – the drunkard started vomiting – he puked all over – spewing filthy vomit on himself – on the seat – and – on the floor of the van.

Then – he passed out unconscious – dead drunk.


It was a disgusting spectacle – and the putrid stench of the vomit was terribly nauseating.

The situation was so repulsive and unbearable – that I got out the van – took a few deep breaths – and filled my lungs with fresh air.

My friend got out of the van – closed the sliding door – and – he gestured to the driver to start the van.

In the rear side of the van – the drunkard was comatose – dead drunk.

I felt pity for the two men who were holding the filthy drunkard covered with his stinking putrid vomit.


After the van had gone – my friend looked at me and smiled.

“Sorry for the sordid “welcome” – let’s go up to my flat…” he said to me.

“Who is this bloody drunkard…?” I asked him.

“My neighbour…” my friend said.

“That despicable bugger is your neighbour…?” I said to my friend – shocked.

“Yes – he is my next-door neighbour – he is a bloody alcoholic – he keeps having these binges – they are taking him to rehab once again – this time – I hope they keep him there for a long time…” my friend said.

“Oh – he has been to rehab before…?” I remarked.

“Twice – but looks like it isn’t working – he had a relapse again – you saw his pathetic condition…” my friend said.


We went up in the lift to my friend’s 9th floor apartment.

A maid stood outside the open door of the flat opposite my friend’s flat – it was the drunkard’s apartment.

There was fear in the maid’s eyes.

The maid held out a pair of keys and spoke to my friend.

“Sir – please call me when Sahab is going to come back – till then – you keep the keys…” the maid said to my friend.

“Okay…” my friend said – and he took the keys of the drunkard’s apartment from the maid.

My friend told the maid that she could go home.


“Let’s go and check his apartment before I lock it up…” my friend said.

We walked into the drunkard’s apartment.

In the living room – on the mantelpiece – there was a photo frame – with a photo of the drunkard and a woman.

I recognized the woman in the photo – it was Nisha.


I picked up the photo frame from the mantelpiece.

I looked at Nisha’s photograph – intently.

My friend was observing me looking at Nisha’s photo.

“Do you know her…?” he asked me.

“No…” I said, “I was captivated by her beauty – she looks so attractive in this photo – does she look even more beautiful in real life…?”

“I don’t know – I haven’t met her…” my friend said.

“What…? You are her neighbour – but you haven’t met her…?” I asked – surprised.

“I moved in here 3 months ago – she hasn’t come here since then…” my friends said.

“Where does she live…?” I asked him.

“Well – from the little I know – she is a hotshot globetrotting investment banker – she is in Hong Kong at present…” my friend said.

“Oh – she lives abroad and her husband lives all alone over here…?” I asked him.

“Yes – it seems so – at least for the last 3 months since I shifted in here…” my friend said to me.

“So – it’s a Long-Distance Marriage…” I remarked.


My friend looked at me curiously and spoke in an inquisitive tone.

“Tell me – why are you so interested in her…?” he asked me – with a curious look on his face.

“Oh – it’s nothing – just like that…” I said – trying to put on an innocent face.


A few minutes later – we sat in the balcony of my friend’s apartment – drinking tea – admiring sunset – the glorious spectacle of the sun being swallowed up by the sea.

My friend’s apartment was in one of the most classy and posh neighborhoods of “SoBo” – South Bombay – or – South Mumbai – as it is now known.


I was wondering how get some information about Nisha from my friend without arousing suspicion – when – luckily – my friend broached to topic himself.

“I feel sorry for him…” my friend said, referring to his alcoholic neighbour.

“I feel sorry for his wife…” I said to my friend.

“You seem to be quite “concerned” about his wife…” my friend said with a mischievous look.

“What are you implying…?” I asked him.

“First – you were looking so adoringly at her photo – and now – you showing so much “compassion” for her…” my friend was saying – when I interrupted him.

“Shut up – I don’t even know her…” I said – in an evasive tone of voice.

“I am sure you know her – maybe she was your first love…” my friend said, playfully.

“No. No. I was just feeling bad for her – poor thing – it must be terrible to have a husband who is an alcoholic – she is suffering for no fault of hers…” I said – trying to put on an expression of sympathy.

“Maybe it’s her fault – maybe she is the root cause for his alcoholism…” my friend said, with a knowing look.

“How can you blame a wife if her husband becomes an alcoholic…?” I said to my friend.

“I am not blaming her – I am saying that she may be the “root cause” for his “drowning his sorrows” in alcohol…” my friend said.

“I don’t understand what you are implying. Is his wife promiscuous…? Is she having an extra-marital affair…? Is that the reason for his drinking…?” I said to my friend.

My friend looked at me and spoke.

“I don’t think so. From what little I know – it seems that he couldn’t cope with her success – he was not able to stomach the fact that his wife was more successful than him…” my friend said to me.

“She was more successful than him…? Is your neighbour an investment banker too…?” I asked my friend.

“Yes – they were working together – and – it seems that – career-wise – she outperformed him – though he doesn’t admit it – and he feels that his wife’s success is due to the fact that she is a woman…” my friend said, “well – that’s what I gathered from the few conversations I had with him – and a friend of his – an office colleague – who visits him once in a while…”

“Oh – does he still have a job – after all this…?” I asked, surprised.

“I think they have given him long leave – hoping he will sober up…” my friend said.

“And his wife…? Doesn’t she care for him…?” I asked, curious.

“I think she has given up on him – the colleague said that she is extremely ambitious – and – career success is her first priority – he said that she was brilliant – much more accomplished than her husband – she moved on – globetrotted all over for better prospects – she made the right career moves – and now – she had already broken the glass ceiling and reached the top of her profession…” my friend said.

“So – she has raced way ahead of him – and now – she is way above him – she is totally “out of his league” – as they say…” I remarked.

“You can say that…” my friend said, “but I think he is okay in his job too…”

“So – he is not a “failure” as such…” I said, “then – why does he feel he is a failure…?”  

“Most men have a fragile ego – so they automatically interpret their wife’s success as their own failure – and then – they take solace by resorting to “remedies” like drinking for succour – thinking that alcohol will alleviate their bruised ego…” my friend philosophized.

I thought about my friend’s hypothesis and pontificated.

“So – the “moral of the story” is that – if you have a typical male ego – you must never marry a woman who is out of your league…” I said to him.

My friend smiled at me in agreement.


Later – on my way back to my hotel – I reminisced about Nisha.

I had been most upset and extremely sad and heartbroken when Nisha dumped me.

All these years – I had felt a sense of deep regret and disappointment at Nisha’s decision to break our engagement.

Now – I felt a sense of relief that I wasn’t married to Nisha.

“It was good that Nisha and I didn’t get married…” I said to myself.


Well – Dear Reader – I am a typical “MCP” – a male chauvinist with “conservative” patriarchal views – and – I have a rather “fragile” Male Ego.



Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

1. This story is a spoof, pure fiction, just for fun and humor, no offence is meant to anyone, so take it with a pinch of salt and have a laugh.
2. All stories in this blog are a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the story are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
3. E&OE

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