The Painting Pen – Bottoms Up (Polarity II)

Polarity – II

The CEO was happy beyond his faculties of expression. He, along with the two other gentlemen of the executive management who joined him for dinner tonight will soon be directly responsible for making their organization the biggest advertising firm in the country. The news will be out only next week after the actual deal is inked with the government and a few other parties concerned, but the CEO, COO and the CFO unanimously decided that the occasion called for a grand celebration. They hit the biggest hotel of Chennai which boasted of the richest bar in South India. Since they were regulars there, the Manager welcomed them and immediately seated them in one of the best seats of the lounge. He was promptly followed by a waiter who was ready to take the order from the trio.

“Gin Martini, Dry, Neat”, ordered the CFO.

“Scotch on the Rocks, Top Shelf”, chipped in the COO.

“Three measures of Gordon’s, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it’s ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon peel.” Finished the CEO.

The waiter noted their orders down and left them to their conversation. The stage music mellowed down when the waiter returned with their drinks. The CEO picked up his glass and took a gentle sip from it. He immediately recoiled with distaste and poured the rest of his cocktail on to the artificial flower part placed on the table.

“I visit this bar only because you are the only one in the country still serving Kina Lillet. But I get the cheap Lillet Blanc instead!” Before the waiter could explain that the stock for Kina Lillet was just emptied an hour ago and the next batch will be imported tomorrow morning, the trio placed the money for the drinks on the table and exited the bar without even listening to the plea of the manager to wait just a while before he gets things sorted out.


He was sitting on the floor of the train Chennai Tambaram to Chennai Beach train. He was dressed in a ragged grey shirt which was torn at two places and a dhothi which must have been white three years ago and now bore sediments of dust. Which was also the case with his hair and face. He was that guy who everybody tried to avoid bumping into or acknowledge their existence.  When the train entered the Mambalam platform he stood up and joined the hum-thrum of the crowd that were waiting to get down from the train. He was lost in his own self and kept shaking his head as if he refused to do something that was demanded of him. He kept grunting some words which he himself couldn’t comprehend.

When he got down, he kept waving his hands to his left trying to steer clear of the hordes that were trying to pillage Ranganathan Street on the busy Sunday. His step was getting a bit tipsy as he has had nothing touch his lips for the past 24 hours. As he staggered on, something in the big blue garbage bin caught his eye. It was a tiny portion of milk in a mildly crushed glass someone had thrown away.

He casually reached into the bin and casually picked the paper glass and emptied the last drop of milk into his mouth. He carefully placed the glass back into the bin and walked away into the indifferent crowd.




Author’s Rants:

The second part was an incident witnessed by me today. The first part was fiction, imagined to contrast the second.

The drink that the CEO Orders is the one showed in the James Bond 007 movie Casino Royale, The Vesper (

Previous rendition of Polarity here:


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