I’ll be frank, when I started this column, the aim was absolutely clear. I wrote it to make the world a better place. By the third line of the first column, I gave up that idea. Now the aim is a little different. It is to tell a story. Mind you, somebody else’s story, without that somebody finding out. We do this in two possible ways: (a) Keep the readership down, and (b) Tell stories about people who don’t read. Luckily, the latter is about 97% of Earth’s population.
So, here’s a story about someone who will never read this column. Her name is ‘my wife’. (The writer is not comfortable sharing her first name Ayesha, as in the case of someone forwarding this article on WhatsApp. And as everyone knows everybody, the whole world’s populations, compulsorily and mandatorily, read WhatsApp forwards). So, please don’t belabour this point with me. On a matter of the highest principle, I refuse to name my wife Ayesha in this article.
A few of you may not have registered this, but, the past week, Diwali was celebrated. As a consequence of Diwali, we, in Mumbai, inherited a five-day break. This break is very interesting on a personal level. As someone who is on a break workwise, this second break, or shall we say break from a break, was as welcome as Shreyas Iyer batting at number four for India. People erroneously think that if you are on a ‘break’, the last thing you will need is another break. However, the truth is quite the opposite. Never does one feel so in need of a break when they are already caught in the coattails of an existing break.
