The Masquerade

Our beloved motherland, more popularly known as India, has been proclaimed as a ‘developing country’ by suspiciously unnamed and seemingly non-existent people during recent times (exact number of years unavailable). As a permanent resident of this ‘developing country’ with no near-future plans of flying away, I am beginning to suspect that this groundbreaking declaration regarding my ‘beloved motherland’ is just a powerful wisp of rumour started by even more powerful politicians.

Now since I am a permanent resident of this ‘beloved country’, as has been already mentioned, it should be utterly evident that I have damning evidence to support my rather controversial opinion regarding our ‘beloved motherland’, and damning evidence I have!

How is it that a ‘developing country’, which is also world’s 2nd fastest growing economy, have outright, in-your-face paradoxical phenomenon occurring everywhere?

How it is that a developed place adorned with malls and multiplexes and with everything else that makes a town modern has to endure a total of 16 hours of power cut every single miserable day?

How is it that a place that can afford to have malls and multiplexes can’t afford to buy or generate enough electricity to keep these modern marvels functional?

How is it that our country, that is renowned for producing world’s finest software engineers doesn’t have one single decent ISP provider for its own people?

How is it that everyone has financial resources spare enough to own a cellphone and then incessantly talk on it so loud that defeats the very purpose of having a cellphone?

How is it that a rich affluent man is impudent enough to build the most expensive home in the country (including a helipad) that overlooks (literally) a humongous slum in the most expensive area of Bombay?

After pondering over these questions, India, to me, seems like a Third World Country masquerading as a ‘Developing Country’.

The Job

Finally, after more than 2-month sabbatical, I have managed to find myself a decent paying job. Although it’s amazing to see how I can make myself even minutely useful to someone that they are actually willing to pay me for it, I have managed to also convince myself and others around me that I am capable of writing some print worthy material.

My first day at the job required me to write 3 articles, impromptu. Now, let me confess here that I have never written more than a 100-word article for a job. So considering how amateurish I write, I managed to churn out 3 “pretty good articles” as said by my senior, in half a day there. I was proud of myself; a warm feeling of satisfaction had filled up my insides that lasted until dawn the next day.

Writing has always made me feel better. No matter what rubbish I type down, at the end of this activity I am always left with a light-as-a-feather feel. For now I only wish fervently that these after effects keep continuing at the end of each of my writing session because I don’t know about any other job that I can do now which would leave me as satisfied as this does.

There is nothing better than doing something that makes you feel good and being paid for it.