I come from humble roots. My great-grandfather was a station master. The future generations mostly civil servants. I grew up being told that money didn't matter, happiness was important. There was a big premium on being a good person. A good person being defined as someone who thought of others, did more for others than for themselves etc etc. To the extent that we were told not to fraternise with the "business community" because they had no scruples or values.
I married a 'baniya'. Now any Indian worth his salt knows this community doesn't part easily with money. So the facts that clothes don't matter, we must rough it out on trips, expensive restaurants are a waste of money and gifts are unnecessary were reinforced for me.
So I lived thinking that the 'good' people or the 'cool' people didn't bother with money. It was a tool of the devil.
Today I went for my first spa/massage experience. Driving there in my not-so-new UVA, which requires much coaxing to get into first gear I thought of a friend who recently told me of his family's newly acquired Mercedes. It apparently has individual butt-warmers in each seat. It seemed an outrageous luxury when I first heard of it but sitting there humming my muchly loved Bollywood songs it didn't seem like such a bad idea. And then I reached the spa.
This had to be a contender for the top five experiences of my life slot. It was pure luxury. The massage in itself was excellent but I just loved the steam and multiple jet shower in the room. I felt like a princess! I was in heaven. I never wanted it to stop.
As I drove back I calculated how often I would be able to afford this and suddenly I realised that this would not be the kind of expense my family would approve of. And I realised that I didn't care. I loved it. I loved eating good food at fancy restaurants. I wanted to visit exotic foreign locales. And hell ya I wanted to wear funky clothes! Throw in a good car to boot.
Happiness may be a lot better than money, but my friends money goes a long way in making you happy! So cheers to the moolah coming my way.
I married a 'baniya'. Now any Indian worth his salt knows this community doesn't part easily with money. So the facts that clothes don't matter, we must rough it out on trips, expensive restaurants are a waste of money and gifts are unnecessary were reinforced for me.
So I lived thinking that the 'good' people or the 'cool' people didn't bother with money. It was a tool of the devil.
Today I went for my first spa/massage experience. Driving there in my not-so-new UVA, which requires much coaxing to get into first gear I thought of a friend who recently told me of his family's newly acquired Mercedes. It apparently has individual butt-warmers in each seat. It seemed an outrageous luxury when I first heard of it but sitting there humming my muchly loved Bollywood songs it didn't seem like such a bad idea. And then I reached the spa.
This had to be a contender for the top five experiences of my life slot. It was pure luxury. The massage in itself was excellent but I just loved the steam and multiple jet shower in the room. I felt like a princess! I was in heaven. I never wanted it to stop.
As I drove back I calculated how often I would be able to afford this and suddenly I realised that this would not be the kind of expense my family would approve of. And I realised that I didn't care. I loved it. I loved eating good food at fancy restaurants. I wanted to visit exotic foreign locales. And hell ya I wanted to wear funky clothes! Throw in a good car to boot.
Happiness may be a lot better than money, but my friends money goes a long way in making you happy! So cheers to the moolah coming my way.
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