Friday, November 17, 2006

Dressed to Kill

There is deadline to meet, only 24 hours in a day and just you to save you. A presentation next Friday will define your destiny. Either you become the most sought after strategist, the most popular person in the company or remain in the aisles of anonymity till your next big chance, if ever.

Historically, the call of a cock announced daybreak. In modern times advertisers have made the calling cock as the mascot for a long list of dairy products and breakfast meals. The cock is a national symbol of France and is used as an (unofficial) national mascot for many sports teams. So much so that a rooster was chosen to be the mascot of the 1998 FIFA World Cup!! And yet, it is the most sought after, the most popular non-vegetarian meal on earth.

The presentation day arrives. The final day for the ‘ultimate’ sales pitch of your life. You have bought a new pair of shoes and a bright new tie for the occasion. You know your weaknesses. Hence, you cut short on your personal back ground. You know your competition and you are ready with all ammuniton. Your data is precise, the numbers are accurate and your confidence at its peak. You have never made such a presentation in your life, but its your natural instinct to take up challenges.

A cockfight is a contest held in a ring called a cockpit between two
gamecocks. The roosters are specially bred and trained for increased stamina and strength. The comb and wattle is cut off of a young gamecock because if left intact, it would be a disadvantage during a match. They possess an inherent aggression toward all males of the same species, and do not have to be trained to fight. It is a natural instinct and they will fight to the death with no training.

The owner of the winning cock is hosting a grand dinner tonight. A special turkey dish is planned for the ‘guests’. The winner of last week’s cockfight is the top of the mind recall for the host. He is the one who will be the fortunate one to ‘visit’ the kitchen, get decorated and displayed on the dinner table, well dressed.

Days pass with no revert from the client. And then the mobile flashes the name you were waiting to see for a week. You fix your tie knot for the invisible ‘guest’, greet him with the chirp of the morning bird (cocks announce daybreak, remember!!). He has called you to his office. You retrun from the ‘visit’. There is dead silence in the room. People gather around you, their reactions following your facial reactions.

The cock is killed and dressed. You are dressed and killed. Both lie upside down for the feast.

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