The rich, airplanes, and booze

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!

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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