I am not even sure if I should write this. Anant Ambani seems like a chill nerdy guy with assured commission whenever an Indian makes a transaction (Jio financial), consumes petroleum, make a phone call or watches porn.
Can you imagine being getting paid every time an Indian watches porn. Especially when you have billions of Indians, and India leads porn consumption on mobile devices and Reliance Jio is the biggest provider of porn access, sorry internet access to India.
Find me a better business model than one that pays you every time an Indian jerk off somewhere in India. The Tam, Sam, Som would be out of the roof.
‘Everything you hear about India is true; the opposite is also true.’
– Guru Cingh
I have always attributed this line to myself as I remember saying this to my Romanian friend (buna Gaby!) while his then girlfriend was looking at a diamond encrusted watch in downtown Los Angeles. I was like -‘ Wooh! the jewelry shops in India are bigger.’
‘Then why did you come here Sardarescu?’ he asked. ‘Poverty is way higher,’ I replied.
I grew up extremely poor, but only for a brief period and was fortunate to have explored the world in my own way. I have worked for the rich (who else would you work for?) and have lived with the poor, but there is nothing as undignified as Indian poverty.
Indian poverty hits you hard. Manual scavenging is not only a thing here.
But I have yet to see a man poorer than Amitabh Bachchan. He will sell you anything from education to multi-level-marketing, chavanprash to pan masala.
And then he will serve meals at a wedding.
In some ways nothing symptomizes Indian poverty as endorsements, actions, and plain greed of Amitabh Bachchan.
Good actor though, but nothing short of a money-grubbing swine.
And no matter how covetous, he will never get that sweet jerk-off commissions.
This naked display of wealth bothers me. I cannot explain though. I am no left leaning khadi wearing socialist. I am a businessman and have my own life of opulence; and I should not be cringing at this PR infested charade where they change rules to create an international airport for ten days, and with kings, CEOs, industrialists, and / or probably a Prime Minister of a poor country shall arrive to pay obeisance to an event which is less of prewedding ceremony but rajyabhishek/coronation of the next generation of our overlords.
With their PR machinery in overdrive, you shall see the Haves and Have Mores rejoicing, dancing, singing, and Big B serving with pride; but you will need see the hundreds of thousands of citizens who live under the yoke and are necessary to exist in such numbers to make this outlandish display of obscene wealth possible.
But what bothers me most is, if and when Sudha Murty arrives, will she bring her own spoon?
I leave you with this beautiful Appalachian Bluegrass classic.