The cult of 'make quick money' salvationists

This post is a sequel to the last one called Beware of the friendly. Before i begin here is a piece of disclaimer: The characters described are as real as the story i am about to narrate and if that posits even bigger questions on its credibility, i will only say that a story should still get its due if it is worth its pinch of salt, its authenticity or the lack of it notwithstanding. The names of the characters have been made up here and there, but that is to be viewed as a weakness of my memory rather than a regard for the anonymity of people i least care about. So without blabbering lets take it further:

He seemed in no haste to hang up while i continued with my big talks on the whoswho of business fraternity and how their ascendency always had very humble beginnings. He had deliberately let the noose loose, sure all the while i would walk into it. He revealed that he had other plans for he despised the rat race that life is, the details of which he could not reveal over the phone. I tried some prodding and poking but then desisted. This was probably a ploy to lend a degree of authenticity. I hung up after promising to meet him the next day at his friends' place.

The next morning i dragged myself out of the bed for i hate early 'waking ups', trying to convince myself that this one promised a real Purpose. No wonder most men meet their damnation walking down the reason's lane!! I was still not familiar with the labyrinthine streets of Koramangala so he helped me with the directions over the phone. After a lot of trouble with the oneways and the usual romance with the Bangalorean traffic, I reached the destination only to learn that the 'session' was already underway.

Now this was interesting! A Session!! Hold on. Weren't we supposed to discuss a new business venture that would catapult me overnight into the likes of the multi billionaires, my snaps appearing on the frontispiece of business magazines with the 'Dream On' slogan in the background?? I anyways reined the cynicism and decided to get on with things, now that i was there. I opened my shoes on the doorsteps of a closed room anticipating the world that lay inside.

The room with due respect to my knowledge of dimensions was not at all big and to avoid making it ambiguous i might well put it as small. There was a staircase at a corner with its steps running up and down like the usual stairways. I was still considering the wallpaper of a bikniclad model hung smartly on the wall opposite when i suddenly became conscious of a sea of gazes sizing me top to bottom. Yes, there were people and about twenty of them sitting on the floor, their faces brimming with cordiality and that unmistakable smiles scripted all over their face likes school boy uniforms. I was surely in a congregation of friendly people !!

" Lets welcome our new friend with three rounds of clappings" , the voice came from a fat looking bald man sitting at the centre with a pate that shone even in the gloominess.

The clappings ensued soon after the proclamation ended and i strained hard not to show the embarassment on my face. The well of bodies began to shuffle and twist and squirm and soon there was some space which i figured was enough to accomodate my lanky figure. I sat beside a bespactacled girl, happy to find the attention slowly drifting away from me. And what did it return to?? Well ofcourse the session again!!

" Lets continue Amar", announced the bald man again while addressing the words to a boy who wore a cream TShirt with a denim jeans not to forget the spectacles that made up much of his face. He had a dimunitive figure and i was happy i could not see the clown's face from where i sat.

" I sold this oil bottle for 250 rupess and the profit was no less than Rs. 50. I sold it to my friend", he announced to a roar of appreciation and approbation from the crowd.

" How do you always manage to extract the best deal out of people? You must disclose your 'trade secrets' to all of us", the bespectacled girl sitting beside me exclaimed, trying hard to be heard above the din of the crowd. And yes her efforts did not go in vain for she sure had claimed a victim as my hands impulsively moved to my ears to cut out the raucous voice. I looked at her wih disgust but she had already settled at her place and was busy smiling coyly at people around.

My usual self- reprehension and cursing was at its peak as my eyes continued to look for the rascal who had brought me to this mess. Seeing me look around anxiously, a middle aged man who had little clusters of hair growing sporadically on an egghead asked me with genuine concern if everything was okay. And i said, yes okay it was except for his leafless bonsai head and thought why he did not buy the hair oil from our 'Mr. Salesman' Amar instead of clapping.

Meanwhile people small and big, XX and XY , fair and dark, young and old continued to hog their salesmanship for having fooled their close friends, neighbours and relatives. And I once again decided to take refuse in my inborn talent with indifference.

If you are already empathising with me, without dishonouring your intent which i assume is to go back in time and extricate me from these 'make quick money' salvationists, I would only remind you of the cliched saying (the exact words of which i have forgotten but the essence i shall quote ) that others' sorrows and miseries can be fully understood only from their position by getting into their shoes.This my dear reader is not to be misconstrued as any ill intentions for heaven forbid i would never want any of you in a similar situation but the extent of my misery will dawn on you only when i reveal the climatic torture this poor soul had to undergo. So read on.

Just when i thought that deliverance was nigh, I discovered that lord had other plans or was it just the bald oldie. He anounced with a flourish, " Friends! I hope all of you thoroughly enjoyed the session that we just had. But before we take leave lets hear what our new friend has to say".

Like a tidal wave the sea of faces turned towards me and i turned with them obviously having ignored the grand promulgation. With all his experience for having shed his hair at every nook and corner of the world, the bald man was to first to notice and comprehend my predicament. And he jumped straight to the rescue act." Comon now! Aren't we all eager to hear what Mr. Amit has to say?", he said with the display act of his thirtytwo.

I can't exactly remember what went through my mind as i heard the reverberations of my death sentence echo in my ears. It sounds funny now. However, I cleared my throat, swallowed the lump forming in my throat and did other stuff that precede grand phoney speeches.

" Its been a truly enriching experience and not to forget the intellectual insights it brought about forming and running symbiotic enterprises of its nature, that makes our life so much better". They clapped with more enthusiasm as if it were any vindication to their beliefs. I bet had i talked more some would have even cried. It was all so damn phoney!! Probably they knew it too and which is why they clapped even harder applauding each other for having kept up the charade.

In retrospection i might admit that may be they were really happy and i was being only too judgemental. But at that moment and place, as i rode my Pulsar back home, it was only the reprieve of being back into the world i had spent twenty two not very bad years of my life.