Sab Phictional hain

Chapter1- Part6

I am done with my chai and there are no signs of Mr.Nawab Sahebs arrival anytime soon. I glance at my mobile phone to see if there are any SMS's. There are none. I decide to get back to reading the newspaper. In the meanwhile, a guy who seems to be in his late 20's, enters the smoking room and asks me if he can join me. I decide to let him occupy the unused half of the table, but before I convey my benevolence, he just drags a chair and seats himself. Damn! I do not feel benevolent any more. Accustomed to these ways by now, I try to get back to the newspaper, the finance column - to be particular. I start reading an article on the American Prezs, Mr.Bhama, intentions to tighten the laws of the land. I think its a good thing. America can use a wee bit more conservatism. When I was on a trip to the States sometime back, I felt uncomfortable and disgusted when I saw Americans coy around in public. However, since I was on a business trip I decided to not judge them as humans but treat them as ATMs that dole out more than my team is worth. I think, like the financial markets which have periods of boom and bust, liberal attitudes also undergo a process of boom and bust. For instance - Victorian times, suppression of gay rights/ oppression of blacks in America, Usury as a crime in Europe were ideas that were not so long ago considered the norm and were acceptable in the western world. This was followed by a boom of liberal ideas in the last century where the opposite ideas gained strength and acceptance. So I will stick to conservatism even though with a lot of training and programming I can train myself to be more liberal. I believe conservatism will be back with a bang. Conservatism, Will it be the new in thing?

A few moments later, I raise my head out of curiosity to check on my temporary companion. The guy puffs out one of those smoke rings, smiles at me, indicating that he would like to have a conversation. At least, that is what I think he implied.

I carefully fold the newspaper back to its original arrangement and stare at him, not knowing what we should converse about. He was dressed like one of those guys you see in popular tv programmes and Bollywood cinema, which increasingly features only NRI characters. I cannot figure out what we have in common to converse on. So, I let him initiate the conversation. After a few silent seconds, I sense that he faces a similar dilemma at his end too. Visibly uncomfortable, he starts talking about himself. He mentions that he is a DJ at a night-club, has been trying to quit cigarettes, loves this place, likes rap music etc. I wonder what a DJ is? More work for my analyst once I get back to the office. As he continues to rant, his words get thinned by the music and the noise prevalent in the room. A few short moments later I can see his lips move, but hear only white noise. Its like I have traded my hearing ability in exchange for the some enhanced pondering capabilities.

I realize the uniqueness of the situation. I usually feel uncomfortable when I talk to any of these MTV dude types. But this time around there is something about this young chap that does not make me feel so. But then I realize he is out of his mind, doped, not judgmental and nice. That explained the new found acceptance for me. Maybe we all need a few more joints. Damn! Whats wrong with me, why am I am I shedding my conservative skin. You see education is evil. You cannot learn and yet be conservative. Is it because all the books/ content that passes off as educational content, mainly being produced in the States? Or is liberalism the natural tendency of our race and conservativeness being the rational choice. Tough questions. I have pondered over them for a long time now, without getting any answers. But what is the worth of an unexamined life, after all.

I slip back in to reality by ripping apart the sheets of thoughts that seem to have encapsulated me in them. The doped guy is still ranting about godknowswhat. I just nod, with a poker face on ,communicating acceptance to his point of view on godknowswhat. He seems to be glad with me and retorts with 'Youre cool man!' and gives me his visiting card. It reads :-

Yo!

Ragz

Dope DJ for Rave Parties!!!!!

trinnngggg:- 9989912287

I cant make too much sense of his business card. I do not try to think about it.

Paisa kama liya but ....

to be continued....

Chapter1 - Part5

I take the last sip of my chai. Back when I was young, me and my brother used to often fight over the last sip/bite of every meal because someone once told us that the last sip is lucky. My brother, as a result of him being more intimidating physically and older by a couple of year, always won. So, I grew up assuming he would turn out to be lucky. Silly people with silly superstitions, we were.

Superstitions give hope to the poor. 'You dont have food? Well have some hope' ; 'Your boy died because you chose to take him to the government hospital. Well have some hope' ; 'I hope I dont get thrown out of college because I cannot pay the fees for this month'; 'We hope the politician does something about the water scarcity problem'. Hope Hope Hope...... Hope for everything.

Fucking hope saves the day, every day for the poor.

The last time I saw my brother, he was working as a contract farmer in my village a couple of years back.Both of us have huge egos. He has never in all these years approached me for any money, I never offered him any. I think he is better off without my money. Some of the workers I employ gossip about the fact that I did not give him any money or support. I understand the bluff-rich like me fail to comprehend the ways of the real rich and in that sense we are limited. But I pity the real loser, Mr. middle class, who fails to understand both the rich and the poor. It is precisely because of this limitation they would never understand why my brother would never accept money from me. Mr. Middle Class does not get that the poor man does not need money to live. They learn how to live without the money. All they have left are their egos and self-respect. So If I were to take away my brothers self-respect by offering him money, all that would remain of him would be a lifeless person.

I hate these sad, depressing, negative thoughts on poverty, on middle class and on hope. I am a rich person now. I should stay away from these thoughts of the past. I try and recall the first principle - No Sunk Costs , Lived Life. Speaking of the principle, I am reminded of the great, his holiness Shri Parameswara Guruji and my meeting him when I was 19. It was he who led me towards the path on which lies wealth and prosperity. I later realized most of what he told me when he was alive was from a book called 'Rich Dad Poor Dad', which I saw one of my employees read. I fired him the very next day. To be honest, my respect for his holiness never faded away even after realizing that he was probably not so holy. I now realize that every man needs a hero. If your dad cannot be that hero, get a new dad, a new hero, one whom you can look up to and try to live up to. In short, His Holiness Shri Parameswara Guruji was that hero for me. I still pay his trust a huge part of my profits as opposed to paying tax. After all why should I pay the Government? It was Guruji who helped a poor man, me, develop conviction and the strength to embark on this path of growth. I pay Gurujis trust so that they can help younger people like me develop into wealthier and successful people.

I touch my lucky ring, pray for a few seconds to clear my head. It seems to have worked. I scan the tables in the room to realize I am with a whole new bunch of people. A lot has changed from the time I got lost in the maze of the past and its abstractions.

The middle aged letching men from the other end of the room have left. I am surprised to realize that a 20 year old lad is sitting on the other end of my table and puffing on a cigarette.

I ask him,'Kaun ho Aap?' As I utter these words the young lad crushes his cigarette butt in the ashtray and replies, 'Thanks man!'. As he races away back into the non-smoking section to join his bunch of friends I wonder why I used 'Aap'.

...Paisa kama liya but class ....

to be continued...