First things first – lots of readers complained that the previous story was absolutely incomprehensible. So here’s what I had imagined while conceiving it:
The old man is a stalwart of the ruling political party whose leader has just passed away. He wishes the son of the erstwhile supremo to take over the reins of the party and for this wishes to engage the services of the woman who is a kingmaker and has considerable influence over the election machinery. The woman has other plans as she wanted her own pawn to be the next leader and thus coaxes the old man to change her mind. They both glance over the step-daughter, considering her nothing but a nincompoop and in capable for the job as they are not that intimate with her. In the years that pass, the current leader of the nation turns out to be corrupt and is in cohorts with the woman and her allies. They misuse public funds for their own good and this doesn’t go down well with the old man who is a staunch Gandhian. Thus when the minister is impeached, he realises that the step-daughter was in fact prefect for to lead the nation and finally supports her in her campaign.
Now coming to the subject at hand, this is the second story which I submitted and also narrated. Surprisingly, it got selected and now I’m working on the third and final instalment of this series of unrelated stories.
The story is untitled. Apologies to all professionals mentioned in the story and Chartered Accountants for annihilating their job. There are no discernible influences from my personal life.
Interpretation of the Picture: Money is only valuable till we agree upon its worth. Barring this trust, it’s just an ornamental alloy or ink on paper. At the height of hyperinflation, Zimbabwe printed a 100 trillion dollar currency note that is now being sold for $5. In this story, I have tried to envision a post-apocalyptic utopia where there is only industry and no finance.
The year is 2100. It has been 50 years since the Great War that changed everything. People have adopted a much simpler way of living now.
The man was ‘old’ when he was half his present age. Now, he’s just stoking the dying embers of the fire of his life. Having outlived his wife and sons all he now has to offer is the wisdom of his experience. His grandson is coming of age today – the age he starts his vocation. He’s a good kid, a bit impudent though.
What do you want to do now that you have completed your education the Old Man asks him?
Why do I have to do anything, he says. ‘The baker gives us the bread; the builder makes our houses and the tailor stitches our clothes.’
They do those things because they enjoy doing so. Rest is good, but boredom is its brother, the Old Man replies wisely.
But wouldn’t it be better if there were some added incentive to labour, the grandson enquires excitingly.
Knowing that his grandson was not one to be convinced easily, the Old Man decides to tell him the stories of four people he once knew –
In the city of Mumbai lived a woman who worked for a bank. Now banks were institutions which kept something called ‘money’ safe and made it grow. Everyone toiled in pursuit of this money. The more we had, the more we wanted. She wanted to be a scientist – to find out the mysteries of the origins of life. Instead, she was lured by the shimmer of the money. She made lots of it for the bank and more than enough for herself; but was never content. Her fixation with earning more made her lose her family, her friends and finally her sanity.
In the city of NOIDA lived a man who was a consultant. He advised people on how to do their jobs, even though he hadn’t done any of them. By using his intelligence to counsel people on ways to earn more money, he came by considerable amounts of money. Sadly, he could not keep any of his clients satisfied, as they kept coming back to him for more. The stress of his job took its toll upon his health and he was forced into a life of seclusion.
In Hyderabad there lived a woman who made modules that predicted ways to augment the amount of money one had. These modules made many people rich, but she herself was not allowed their use. This frustrated her time and again and finally she decided to purloin from those who used her brilliance for their own profit. Eventually she was found guilty and imprisoned.
In the city of Kolkata lived an engineer who worked unselfishly his entire life so that he could give a comfortable life to his family. He was not exceptional or too intelligent, but he was a very hard and sincere worker. He lived a long, satisfying life and never yearned for more than he needed.
Thus concluding, he asks his grandson whose life he would like to emulate.
“The last man’s” the grandson replies. “But what happened to the concept of money?” he adds as an afterthought.
“It was abolished after the Great War… when our leaders decided that money was the cause of conflict between humans. In the end, what we want is happiness and satisfaction. It was realized that these can be achieved without something as factitious and hollow as money” the Old Man replies.
The grandson acknowledges this with a nod and after a lot of pondering asks his grandfather why he chose those four cities.
The Old Man chuckles and replies “Now that is a story for another time. The next lesson you need to learn is that of patience.”
P.S.: Any guesses as to why those four cities were chosen???
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