Rich man's poor world

"Paisa to haath a mayl hota hai". Whoever said that must have been filthily rich; obviously, he had never experienced that most humiliating and debilitating of all sicknesses - poverty.

I have recently been afflicted with a form of poverty. Not the malnutrition, starvation, illiteracy, or multiple childen-producing variety - that is for the have-nots, but a slightly richer form. I have a mess account that feeds me enough to keep me fat, all modern sanitary amenities, heck, even a computer and a free internet connection to blog on. But, my net cash worth, not counting the several people I owe debt to, would be around Rs. 1.75 right now.

The thing in common with both forms of poverty is the frustration. I can't get my cycle repaired, I can't buy any more cigarettes, can't buy soap, and I am definitely not in the right place needed for ordering a pizza and a veg. burger with extra mayonnaise and a bottle of coke. That pretty much rules out vodka alright.

So, what do I do? I look up to my wingmates and other friends for monetary support. Rs. 5.25 for a Navy Cut and a Rasna packet from Kuntry, 20 bucks for soap from Panchali, 5 bucks from Bachi for a puncture repair... basically, I get into debt. The month goes on, and the debt keeps accumulating. The first of the month approaches, stipend is withdrawn happily, then debts are paid off - and poof! - all the money vanishes.

I am caught in this vicious circle of borrow and pay back. It's essentially the same concept as that of a credit card, only with the added humiliation of approaching someone at the end of the month asking them for a monetary favour, and sometimes getting weird looks and a beat-about-the-bush conversation that basically means "fuck off".

Oh, how I am waiting to get paid for work, and then treat all those who helped me get by!