To be Amitabh Bachchan? Mukesh Ambani? Mother Theresa? a Gandhi scion? As an abysmally fallen Bong, I'd put my money on power over piety anytime. So, why do I find myself cringing deeper and deeper into myself at a schoolmate's life that is every Mumbai businessman's dream come true? The tale of a start up gone 100 crore plus, a seat at the young presidents' club, hobnobbing with Mukeshbhai himself, tales of 'managing' bureaucracy with panache, holidays in the Maldives, weekends with the kids, bonding with the boys about not enough sex (euphemism for twice a year coz success is exhausting!!!!), the rush that power brings..... there's no going back. Even if you wanted to. I feel my face crack under the strain of blandness. Even if you wanted to... once you're at the top, you can never go back... More time with the woman who built the company with you, with friends not talking shop, being silly, just relaxing and enjoying your kids, reading for pleasure and little else... all the inane things life has to offer. Too much depends on his staying where he is... too many people... it's no longer a choice that is his.
My admiration for Aashish ratchets higher. Now that... that was ballsy. And it was a choice. There's always a choice. Isn't' that what life is? And now I'm wondering about mine, the panic rising within me at the thought of what exactly I might be returning to. An evening of success stories, instead of one of dance followed by an invigorating debate about the Nanny state gone mad, children, egalitarianism vs. elitism, global business practise lines.. ending in a gentle nudge about the average food at the pub next door merely being equal :). Damn!!
Deep breath. In a city of 20 odd million, I'm sure I can find 4, hell maybe even 5 that won't scare me.... those that would chose to spend their time with the people in your life that matter, even if it means travelling cattle class all the way....(and lots more sex on the way ;-))
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