Kya Hoga Shastry Ka - The End and a New Beginning

Auto-baba ka Pravachan

The old, round-faced autowalah was lounging in his seat, his arms spread over on the horizontal bars behind his seat like a man relaxing on his own crucifix. I went upto him and said Bandra West. I was on my way to stay with Hari for a week in Mumbai, till the time I found my own place. He refused. As I made to turn away, he called me back. “Kahan jaoge sahib? Bandra West? Chalo chhod aata hun, mujhe bhi wo jagah pasand hai”

That 50+ old man drove an auto but had the soul of a sailor. Philosophical, bawdy and full of tales. Two particular remarks of his struck home - one for its wisdom, the other because it involved women.

1. When you asked me na sir, I was feeling like going to Parla, Why? I don’t know. Just felt like going to Parla, and would have waited there all day in Santacruz till I got a sawaari for Parla. But when you said Bandra West, I thought, that’s also a nice place, would be calm and beautiful in this empty afternoon sun.

I have to feel like driving the auto again, every day, day after day. If I don’t drive it like how I enjoy it, and don’t go where I feel like going, I can never touch it again. I have done this for 25 years, and now I deserve these little decisions of leisure

1. Beware of girls in Bandra west saab. Don’t touch them! They are way too smart. Bandra East women are ok, but saab, don’t touch the women here. They are hot! And they burn like Hell.

Rest of the journey I was half-leaning out of the auto, eyes peeled to catch a glimpse of those flaming torches of pulchritude!

 Never imagined so much money in this

Hari was staying in accommodation large enough to comfortably take in either 10 guys or two women – a 2 BHK flat - and shared it with just another guy, a pedigreed investment banker (IIMC). Hari held him in, what I sensed was, a little respect.

Anyways, here I was, in a Bandra West flat, supposedly surrounded by precocious gold diggers, living with the richest of the MBA breed – I-bankers..Yeah, the richest. This class of MBAs beats all the others when it comes to making moolah. As Hari would sometimes say with that leisurely smile melting like butter on that huge tawa of a face, “Seriously yaar, I never imagined there would be so much money in this!!”.

The Enlightenment – Hari Om Tatsat!

It was during those days that the thought came to me for the first time. “Maybe, I can look into getting into Finance myself”, I said to Hari. His answer grabbed me by the neck and plunged my face into the loo bowl. It had that force and that rude bluntness.

 “Shastry, you bugger, you think you did not take Finance in B because you did not know there was so much money in it, because you were lured by the exciting creativity of Marketing, the magic of brands and the adrenalin of sales? Bull!!! You did not take finance because you were shit scared of it. Remember you almost flunked Management Accounting in first sem, and in Corporate Finance in second sem. Almost. And after that you never touched a Finance course. I am not saying you didn’t have the brains. You had. But just the different sort of brains…you know, the subjective kinds, the global kinds, not the kind that can concentrate, analyze and work with numbers….Okkkkk…so don’t fool yourself….

 Now don’t feel too bad about it. We all are built differently (this from a guy who was built realllyyy differently, what dramatic irony). You will be as good at Finance as me jiving with one of these Bandra West women. Trust me, it’s not for you…or rather……you are not for it…iske aage teri marzi”

He was right.

I was stunned.

I was pissed off.

 “F*** Off you oaf! I didn’t do Finance in B because I didn’t want to, not because I could not. And now again, at this fork in my life, I refuse to take the Finance way. You guys…you stealers of other peoples’ moneys…you create-nothing-take-everything-people…you …youuuuu……”

I was incoherent.

 “You guys pore over your comps all day and live such sad lives...working nights and days…..no time to enjoy…with all this money sleeping like an untouched slut in the boudoir of your bank accounts…..no joy, no creativity, no .no..no…’people-part’….you know why you are paid so much? Because you have the shittiest, boringest, most lifeless of jobs in the entire world.

 Now I know why all I-bankers say I want to earn all that I can by the time I am 35, so that I can retire at 35.

It’s because you guys are so burned out by your jobs that by the time you are 35, you are good only for retirement – with your migraines and ulcers and heart problems and depression and erectile dysfunctions…

 To hell with Finance – both high and low…I will not do Finance, whatever I do I will do something that makes me happy…like that autowalah….and Yes, I will make out with your Bandra women too…Take That! Now howz that?..haan!!”

 I was silent.

I didn’t say any of this to Hari.

I thought all of this, but didn’t say anything.

I was yet to find my own room in Bombay.

Moreover, he was right.

 So, all I said was,

 “You know Hari, maybe you are right.”

And life…moves on….

A couple of days later, Ali – another one of my dear friends from B – arranged for an interview in the purchase function of his company. I was disillusioned with my search for that ass-kicking job. I said yes when they made the offer. Couple of days later I moved in with a colleague – a sweet, little elfish soul.

And life has moved on.

 All that has remained with me from that week in Bandra are the auto-driver’s words – “I must enjoy what I am doing in…day in day out…else I wouldn’t be able to do it” – and sweet visions of the Bandra women.