I'm drinking from my saucer

Found this poem on a link dad shared with me a couple of days back, written by an eternally satisfied John Paul Moore. I can't relate to all that he says, but I simply loved the teacup metaphor. Check it out.

I've never made a fortune and it's probably too late now.
But I don't worry about that much, I'm happy anyhow.
And as I go along life's way, I'm reaping better than I sowed.
I'm drinking from my saucer,'Cause my cup has overflowed.

I haven't got a lot of riches, and sometimes the going's tough.
But I've got loved ones around me, and that makes me rich enough.
I thank God for his blessings, and the mercies He's bestowed.
I'm drinking from my saucer, 'cause my cup has overflowed.

I remember times when things went wrong, my faith wore somewhat thin.
But all at once the dark clouds broke, and the sun peeped through again.
 So God, help me not to gripe about the tough rows that I've hoed.
I'm drinking from my saucer, 'Cause my cup has overflowed.

 If God gives me strength and courage, when the way grows steep and rough.
I'll not ask for other blessings, I'm already blessed enough.
And may I never be too busy, to help others bear their loads.
Then I'll keep drinking from my saucer,'Cause my cup has overflowed.

Fast Forwards: Long Live the Lungi

Here's a tribute to the one piece of cloth that protects manhood, as much as it provides comfort. Possibly written my one articulate mallu who's enjoyed the pleasure of the Lungi. Enjoy:

Just as the national bird of Kerala is the Mosquito, the national dress of her men is the 'Lungi'. Pronounced as 'Lu' as in loo and 'ngi ' as in 'mongey', a lungi can be identified by its floral or window-curtain pattern. 'Mundu' is the white variation of lungi, and is worn on special occasions like weddings, Onam and our biggest source of festivity - an 'official' strike on a werking day.

Lungi is simple, 'down to earth' garment, much like the mallu wearing it. A Lungi is the beginning and the end of evolution in its category. Wearing something on the top half of your body is optional, when you are wearing a lungi. Lungi is a strategic dress. It's like a one-size-fits-all Mallus everywhere, be they from Thiruvananthapuram city, Patthanamthitta district, or gelf-returned Mallus in Kannur(Where we'll be having our 4th international airport by the way, with direct flights to many international locations like Ras al Khaimah and Jabal Umm al Ru'us)

The technique of wearing a lungi/mundu is passed on from generation to generation through word of mouth, like the British Constitution. If you think it is an easy task wearing it, just try it once! It requires techniques like breath control and yoga, which is three notches higher than Sudarshan Kriya of Zri Zri Ravi Sankar. A lungi/mundu when perfectly worn, it won't come off even in a Yeardhquake of 8 on the richter scale. A lungi is not attached to the waist using duct tape, staple, rope or velcro. It's a bit of mallu magic, whose formula is as closely guarded secret like the Koko Cola's chemical X.

A lungi can be worn 'Full Mast' or 'Half Mast,' like a national flag. A 'Full Mast' lungi is when you are showing respect to an elderly or the dead. Wearing it at full mast has lots of disadvantages. A major disadvantage is when a dog runs after you. When you are wearing a lungi/mundu at full mast, the advantage is mainly for the female onlookers, who are spared the ordeal of swooning at the sight of hairy legs.

Wearing a lungi 'Half Mast' is when you wear it exposing yourself like those C grade movies of Silg Smitha, Kottan Kantha or Nylon Nalini. A mallu can play cricket, football or simbly run when the lungi is worn at half mast. Even when a dog is chasing him. A mallu can even climb a coconut tree wearing lungi in half mast. But always remember, "It's not good manners, especially for ladies from dezent families, to look up at a mallu climbing a coconut tree"- Confucius (or is it Abdul Kalam?)

The 'Lungi Wearing Mallu Union' [LUWMU, pronounced LOVE MU], an NGO which works towards the upliftment of the lungi, strongly disapprove of the GenNext tendency of wearing Bermudas under the lungi. Bermudas under the lungi is a conspiracy by the CIA. It's a disgrace to see a person wearing burmuda with corporate logos under his lungi. What they don't know is how much these corporates are limiting their freedom of movement and expression.

A mallu wears lungi round the year, all weather, all season. A mallu celebrates winter by wearing a colourful lungi with a floral pattern. Lungi provides good ventilation, an ideal garment for those who are scared of global warming.

A lungi/mundu can be worn any time of the day/night. It doubles as blanket at night. It also doubles up as a swing, swimwear, sleeping bag, parachute, facemask while entering/exiting toddy shops, shopping basket and water filter while fishing in ponds and rivers. It also has recreational uses like in 'Lungi/mundu pulling', a pastime in households having more than one male member. Lungi pulling competitions are held outside toddy shops all over Kerala during Onam and Vishu.

When these lungis are decommissioned from service, they become table cloths. Thus the humble lungi is a cradle to grave appendage.

Well, I've never worn one in my life. I should possibly learn some breathing exercises first. And then tying a knot. And of course, learning how and when to fold it or unfold it. Promises to be the new skill I need to acquire,to live up to the long name of my birthplace - Kutuparamba, which is 14 KM from Thalaserry, which by the way is capital of the Great Indian Circus and also the birthplace of India's second fastest bowler from Kerala(just behind Sreeshant obviously), Tinu Yohanan. As you can see, it's going to be quite a handful.

The Story Remains the Same

Here’s my version of a story I’d heard five years back. Which itself was, at that time, a new version of a story I’d heard twenty years back. But for all the transformations the world has seen, little it seems has changed in this story – the story of the Ant and the Grasshopper.

The Ant works hard in the scorching heat all summer building its house and hording up supplies for the winter.

The Grasshopper thinks the Ant's a fool and laughs and dances and plays the summer away. You know what happens next. But here’s where we cut to the modern times.

Come winter, the shivering Grasshopper calls a press conference and demands to know why the Ant should be allowed to be warm and well-fed, while others like him are cold and starving.

At this point, NDTV, Aaj Tak and Barkha Dutt show up to provide pictures of the shivering Grasshopper next to a video of the Ant in his comfortable home with a table filled with food.

The world is shocked by the disparity in living conditions. How can this poor Grasshopper be allowed to suffer so?

Arundhati Roy stages a demonstration in front of the Ant's house. Anna Hazare threatens to go on a fast unless the government approves the Lokpal bill and probes into the Ant's assets. Arnab Goswami invites the Ant for an informal hearning, but gives him an earful.

The Ant becomes a trending topic on Twitter. Hundreds of tweets are written. Thousands of RTs follow. Many of whom decide to share it on FB too. And thousands of requests of “I’ll copy this one” follows, with many more FB walls updated. Why, even Chetan Bhagat has something funny to say about the Ant. And his post gets 3175 Likes and 584 Shares.

There is also a fair amount of support garnered by the Grasshopper. KCR invites the Grasshopper and his family to live in his new found state. Maya paints a picture of a bright future for the Grasshopper and his clan in all the four states she’s created. N Srinivasan agrees to send the Indian Cricket Team to Namibia for a one-off T20 in the middle of the IPL Season, for a charity match played for the Grasshopper and his community. A couple of weeks later, Sachin dedicates his 100th Half-century in ODIs to the Grasshopper.

More activity follows on all forms of Media. TOI initiates “Grasshopper ki Asha” and organizes a Page-3 event in a new city every weekend to spread awareness. Greenpeace spams 39,217 mailboxes to subscribers who couldn’t remember when they’d signed up for the damn thing. A email forward which encourages people to “mail this to 10 other friends and earn yourself a lifetime of good fortune and a 50% discount coupons for all forms of penis enlargement” starts doing the rounds, targeting those who still maintained their hotmail accounts.

This is when the government decide to take matters in their own hands. Opposition MPs stage a walkout. Left parties observe a 'National Bandh' in West Bengal and Kerala demanding a judicial enquiry. The Right-wing extremists blame a foreign hand (Hint: The country in question is not to be named. And it appears in the left of India when you are facing India’s political map.) The Centre is…hung.

Disgusted by the developments, the Ant’s lawyers convince him to go west and seek asylum (i.e. apply for H-1B Visa). After a few hours of consultation with the Passport Baba at Lucknow, that is.

After a year of noise, the Judicial Committee drafts the State Operation to Protect Grasshoppers Against Poverty (STOPGAP). Arundhati Roy calls it 'a Triumph of Justice'. Ashok Chavan offers to build a building in the heart of Mumbai for the Grasshopper and his followers. Ramalinga Raju pledges to build an IT company that will promote the IT skills of Grasshoppers. And finally President Obama invites the Grasshopper for a UN conference, and nominates the Grasshopper for the Nobel Peace Prize for his fight for equality.

Many years later...

The Ant continues to slog all year long in sunny California and hordes up his millions for the next Ice age. The Grasshopper gets grilled for his millions by the CBI, Income Tax department and Arnab Goswami. And India remains the world’s largest developing country.

Fast Forward: History of getting laid...off!

Once upon a time the government with Ruling Party, Union of Socially Extreme Liberal Elements in South Sudan(USELESS) had a vast scrap yard in the middle of a desert. The biggest concerned raised by a vast majority of USELESS ministers was "Someone may steal from it at night."

So they defined the role of a night watchman and hired a person for the job. Then
USELESS spokesman raised a valid point- "How does the watchman do his job without instruction?"

So they created a planning department and hired two people, one person to write the instructions, and one person to do time studies. Then another USELESS veteran requested an inquiry. "How will we know the night watchman is doing the tasks correctly?"

So they created a Quality Control department and hired two people. One to do the studies and one to write the reports. Then USELESS Chief had his own agenda
- "How are these people going to get paid?"

So they created the following positions, a time keeper, and a payroll officer, then hired two people. Shortly, the USELESS Minister of Finance demanded to know - "Who will be accountable for all of these people?"

So they created an administrative section and hired three people, an Administrative Officer, Assistant Administrative Officer, and a Legal Secretary. The USELESS Minister of Finance that prepared an annual report, which was full of administrative insights - "Based on the inputs of our administrative department, we have some new findings on our Scrap operations for last one year. After an in-depth analysis, we are over budget by USD 18,000. Given the current economic crisis, we will be forced to take some extreme action to bring down the overheads."

So they said, and gave the night watchman a sack. Which was full of peanuts. And which, he was told, was given to him in appreciation for his efforts over one year.

What would you do with all the money in the world?

Yes. I'm broke. As you may have already guessed after reading my flawed plan of robbing a bank. Who was I fooling? I couldn't even afford to pay the Auto-rickshaw fare to the bank(by the meter that too), let alone buying the equipment needed for an Italian job of stealing public money(Sorry, couldn't avoid a very subtle reference to one political figure here. Nudge! Wink!)

So now it's back to dreaming about a lottery that would get me USD 34,643,788,127.75 after tax deductions. I'm just waiting for the rupee to stabilise before I convert these dollars into my favourite currency.

You'll agree that it's a legitimate dream to have. Even if you work for the Income Tax department. You dream of buying a Porsche as a kid. You don't dream of paying taxes, do you?

But the problem I see with such an exercise is I wouldn't know what to do with so much money. Or at least with what ever is left after buying that flat in Hyde Park, a 100m-long Yacht, putting a fair amount in fixed deposits, recurring deposits, demat accounts, mutual funds, life insurance, house insurance, car insurance, housing loan, car loan, PPF accounts, the taxes for all of the above and then answering every call from the HDFC call centre with a "Yes, I'd like to invest in that savings plan. How much should I write the cheque for? Is that the most I can pay? no? What is?"

Yes, it's true. This would be the case for anyone from any walk of life. After all, why walk when you have a chauffeur-driven private jet. No more worrying about the electricity bill, especially when you can buy out a power plant. No more telephone bills, when you own both, the company that manufactures the phone and also the service provider. No more water problems. Hell! You could simply order for a glacier to be delivered home every fortnight. And on a weekly basis when you are entertaining guests.

Well, money cant buy happiness. But then I'm guessing it's a lot better to feel miserable when I suffer a bout a diarrhea during my midweek escapade to my private continent that's east of Australia, because the Oysters were cooked in a wine that's 212 years old and the Kopi Luwak was a touch too strong. Oh and before I forget - look, my USD 74 Million Boeing Business Jet is bigger than yours.