In Fafda Files, her weekly column in Seniors Today, Minoo Shah writes on inheritance… in her inimitable style
This ode shall be an anthem for all who have been cheated out of their rights. Now, if you happen to be the ‘cheater’, then read no further for the words that are about to erupt may make Mount Vesuvius seem to be but a ‘fuski laxmi bomb’. But, to those who are the cheated, shed all your inhibitions and repeat after me: ‘May you who taketh from me, burn in hell (translated – have indigestion with chronic heartburn and acidity)’. Now, of course some of you may wince and think – this is my past karma come to haunt me and as such, I shall refrain from wishing those that harm me from a life that allows them no redemption – not me! So, let me tell you why.
I was scrolling through Facebook (it is almost a sub-conscious FB slave thing we all do – right?), when none other than DC1, lisped his way into my impassionate life. He was chatting up OW2 and an audience of some middle age celebrities, rushing to save their bygone youth. Although the discourse was about how 70 is the new 30, my takeaway were words like ‘toxicity, antioxidants and dehydroepiandrosterone. While you grapple with this last word, I will move on with my philosophy of ’tis far better to rule in hell than to serve in heaven’, and will catch up with you somewhere between now and the eulogies attended by your dear ones whose uppermost thoughts are about the food to be served after the cremation. Morbid as it is, it is far less murky than what your lives will be if you do not ingest the steroid DHEA (welcome to the new world – DHEA stands for dehydroepiandrosterone). It is commonly found as an additive in organic milk thus the phrase ‘milk of human kindness’ and time for me to spurt yet another cliché – Charity begins at home! In short be kind to yourself and let the endorphins swarm by arming yourself with an ‘expletivesaurus.’ Drop your tablet, go to your balcony, terrace or a pasture (wear your mask – otherwise you may find a baton and your rear making resounding contact) and scream – ‘may you who taketh what was rightfully mine rot in the caverns of your shameful existence’ or, ‘Damn! Damn! Damn! and send them to damnation for an eternity. Does that feel good or what? As usual I will now proceed to explain forthwith (in first person a tale twice told):
In the fall of 2019, we (a part of the family) was suddenly apprised of the fact that another member of the close family had chosen to relieve us of the burden of our inheritance. She, the perpetrator, slyly pulled the rug from beneath our pious feet and mated us in the game of life called Chess. What followed was a dignified front belied by seething anger amid a strategy to passively isolate this scum related to us by blood. In honor of our substantial loss accompanied by the sight and sound of snickering, we the bruised met weekly and openly cursed while ingesting spicy pani puri and dosa downed with kulfi falooda. With every passing week our expletivocabulary gained momentum and the laughter we shared became an antidote. Our laughter woke up the heavens who then decided to participate and in early 2020 sent a pandemic! (At this point you feel lost but stay with me and it will liven up your bored existence). You see this pandemic put a damper on the ‘idhar ka maal udhar’ strategy. The devised plan of ultimately transferring funds via Singapore to sweep accounts in foreign banks through havala taporis, was an idea whose time lapsed because the pandemic continued, continues and going by media accounts shall run its course.
The moral of the story – Who got checkmated? Who is having the last laugh? Why does the Cheshire Cat feel like her cream has curdled? And, why should one relish the vengeance is sweet euphoria? Because you can eat pani-puri without developing hyper-acidity and a newfound freedom to curse at will – a right bestowed by supreme beings.
DC1 Chopra, Deepak
OW2 Winfrey, Oprah