You can hear him before you see him. Very often, from miles away.

His talk is sprinkled with laughter.

He is fluent in more than four Indian languages, a fact he demonstrates at every opportunity.

When he speaks on phone, his hand rests on his belt-buckle that is invisible somewhere below the wide tummy spilling all over it.

He flirts easily, casually, oblivious of others, giving no more importance to his words than they deserve. He likes to believe his listeners are fascinated by him. He is not particular about the object of his interest, anyone would do.

He is darker than an average Indian, with a face that could be termed attractive from a certain angle. Perhaps during his younger, thinner days, he was the heart-throb of many.

From every cell of his being emanate the desire to hear people praise him. His jokes put stand-up comedians to shame and the audience tire of stretching their lips into smileys. Yet, his overall pleasantness does invoke frequent compliments.

He never gets bored of his own talk. Perhaps his job is to blame.

If there is bad news to be delivered, he wraps it in sugar and honey, and tries to say everything but the news to be conveyed. He believes he is the only one who can handle disturbing news, everyone else is a weakling.

He never keeps his word.

He is never on time.

Drink, smoke and paan are his weaknesses, and he is specific about the brand of each.

His down-to-earth attitude itself has a pomposity to it.

His job is only a distraction, a means to fill his bank account. He does not understand ‘office time’ or the concept of working 8-9 hours per day.

To him, day and night hold no meaning, and he disregards the fact that others have routines to follow.

He believes that any inconvenience caused to people who serve him can be covered with money.

He considers himself welcome everywhere. If he shows kindness to someone, he expects them to be obliged to him for life, and to show their obligation and gratitude every time they meet him.