I was chatting with a friend of mine about money. About how much is enough and how our entire lives are about earning to get rich or to get richer, whether the hours we work are justified and what kind of savings we have.
Anyone telling you that they work 20 hours a day at a corporate ONLY because they love the job and not for the money need a drum of hot coffee poured on them to wake them up from their delusions.
The only way to tell if you really love your job – is to be working merrily at a place where you don’t get paid or get paid peanuts.
I don’t get most people’s idea of wealth anyway.
To me – There is only one type of true wealth – and you can tell by one question.
If I absolutely want anything now – could I potentially buy it?
Literally anything. A helicopter. A Private island. A trip to the moon.
Anything less than that is not wealth.
It’s just money.
500 and 2000 rupee notes. That is all it is.
Your so called wealth could be demonetized in a day if Modi gets a second wind.
So 10 lacs or a 100 lacs doesn’t matter.
That’s just mildly well off.
Anything short of a billion is ho hum.
And even a billion – if it means that you have to go in to work every day – is still just money.
So simply by this theory of mine – we are released of all obligations to try to attain wealthy status. Because we can never do that unless you turn out to be the next Mark Zuckerberg. At least not wealth in the conventional sense of the term.
So there may be another kind of wealth that we can aspire to.
The abstract kind.
It is made up of dew moistened grass and smiles.
Of chaotic colors and first rains
Of ripe mangoes and mildewed memories
Of tone-deaf singers and kulfi hawkers
Of unattainable mountains and insane mountaineers
Of dried flowers in diaries and giggles
Of unforgettable words and haunting movies
Of horizontal tangos and midnight snacks
Dances and Foolishness.
That’s the kind of wealth rat race I can get on board with.