As civilization
progresses, our language becomes more refined. For example, an “underdeveloped
country” of the past is a “developing country” today. Gentle Reader, this is
not a dig at our beloved Bharat; of course, we aren’t underdeveloped. It doesn’t
matter that we are high on the hunger index, or that we have the largest number
of stunted children in the world, everyone knows we are planning a mission to
the Mars, and we will have become the Viswa Guru as soon as the WhatsApp
University becomes the only university in the world.
If you need more
examples, a bloke who was a “tinpot dictator” yesterday is a “strong and
decisive leader” today. (Once again, this is just a study of the English
language, any similarity with a specific person is totally unintentional.)
Neither do we use
the expression “filthy rich” outside men’s locker rooms these days. It carries
a sense of impotent and vulgar revulsion which the poor often revels in. (And
don’t forget that the poor is poor only because of their extreme laziness and lack
of drive. Even if they had a little bit of these, they would have become at
least a part of the middleclass, like I have.) The “filthy rich” are described
as “high net-worth individuals” these days. Close your eyes and think deeply
about the string of words in your mind, won’t you feel a sense of reverence for
such people? If you have a rosary in your hand, the sense will be deeper.
This morning, after two months of reading about
migrant workers and their pathetic troubles, this morning, I bowed in silent
admiration when I read in the Indian Express that a “high net worth individual”
based out of Bhopal hired a 180-seater A320 aircraft to ferry his daughter, two
grandchildren, and their nanny to avoid the mango people teeming with the
coronavirus at airports and in-flight. The plane flew from Delhi to Bhopal on
Monday (25 May) with the crew alone; it flew back with just four passengers.
The unfortunate
lady would certainly have been under much stress and discomfort and my heart
melted when I read this touching story of parental love. The cost of chartering
an Airbus-320 is round Rs 20 lakh.
My reverence for
the pop increased manifold when I read – in the same report – that he is a
“liquor baron”, although I must quickly add that a baron is a “member of the lowest order of the British
nobility”. This is an insult. How can you think of such a large-hearted and
high net-worth belonging to the lowest order of anything?
If I were the papa, I would have sued the
Indian Express. But I am not. So, I would only virtually prostrate before this
great man, who would have worked really hard to make his pile, besides bringing
happiness to millions of ordinary boozers like me.
This man deserves every little comfort in this
world and in the next!
*
On a serious note: The social media is like a
boxing contest. The moment you throw a punch, you must think how to block the
return blow. Therefore, before a smart reader points it out, let me say that I know
that to millions of poor Indians, I am filthy rich. But still, I write about
the obnoxious economic and social disparity in our country.
And I shall keep writing.
29 May 2020
