Living on borrowed time

He felt a dull, throbbing pain, but he did not know which part of him was paining. All he knew was that the pain was sometimes unbearable and caused him to faint, while at most other times it was bearable but ever-present. His life revolved around his Master. His Master fed him three times a day with the choicest of dishes, his Master bought for him the best clothes and his Master had given him a luxurious bed to sleep in. But his Master never allowed him to go out of the house. For a few hours everyday, he was allowed to open only those windows which his Master allowed him to open and from there, he could catch glimpses of the World. Everyday, he cleaned the house, he cooked for his Master and he did everything that his Master asked him to do. But every time he did something for his Master that he didn’t want to do, the pain increased. One day, he overcooked a dish. So his Master brought out a whip and mercilessly thrashed him with it. That day, his pain was unbearable. He wanted to cut off those parts of him that were aching, but again he was unable to say for sure which parts of him were experiencing the pain. He wanted to run away from the house, but he knew that he would have to eat dry bread everyday, wear rags and sleep on the pavements if he ran away. What part of the World he could see through the windows of the house he liked. He thought that the World was not a very harsh place to be in, but he also knew that there was much in the World which he hadn’t seen and which could be very harsh indeed to him. Another fear which plagued him was that the pain would only increase if he ran away. Another Master may whip him even more and for lesser mistakes.

One day, while he was sitting beside the window, a person in the World told him that there was a cure for his pain. The cure was to learn to bear the pain and get used to it. That night, he felt great pain. He closed his eyes and tried to forget the pain. He told himself that patience and tolerance would drive away or at least mask the pain. He couldn’t sleep all night long because he was unable to wish away the pain.

The next morning, he had made up his mind. He would run away from the house. His Master could easily find ten others like him, who would not feel pain even when they were whipped. So, that afternoon, he quietly slipped a note under his Master’s door and made off from the house. His first reaction upon reaching the road outside the house was one of unconfined joy. He leapt into the air and danced down the road. His curious eyes drank in every sight which they had missed for all these years. There were many things in the World which ought to have intrigued him, but he did not see them that afternoon. He only saw the road and the open fields, where he could dance and sing all day long. His pain seemed to have vanished.

But what he neither saw nor felt was the note which his Master had stuck on his back that declared him to be a fool and an ingrate. There would be no Master in the World who would feed him, clothe him or give him a place to stay. He had discovered the joy of freedom, but unknown to him, he had taken upon himself the burden of failure.

On Auction: My Conscience

Mercenary - n One who serves or works merely for monetary gain; a hireling. adj having or marked by an eager and often selfish desire especially for material possessions (Merriam-Webster Dictionary Online, 2006)

My sole desire in life is to make money. Give me money, and I will do anything you ask me to do. Your smallest wish is my command, provided the price is right. I have a conscience, for which you can pay a rent and bend according to tour will. The current lessee of my conscience is one of the top law firms in my country. I guess bidders for my conscience will be hard pressed to match the rent I am now getting, but that makes it all the more interesting and rewarding for me.

In the legal field, I can offer you the best services that money can buy. Ethics and morals are highly dependant on what the lessee of my conscience wants done. I have no problems in drafting a document that will make a few thousand poor villagers homeless. I have no qualms about strategising how a large American or European or Australian company can squeeze the life out of hard-working illiterate farmers by forcing new agricultural methods upon them. I see no personal issues in ensuring that a large multinational company will slime an Indian entrepreneur and take away from him his life's hard work in the form of his company. I will see to it that the behemoth overseas conglomerate smoothly chucks out marginal farmers and indigenous tribes from a remote area in my country so that they can set up infrastructure projects that serve an unknown purpose for an unseen public. I will ensure that the rich will get richer and the poor poorer because that is what is expected of me from this capitalistic economy.

In case you have any impractical and hypocritical suggestions like the betterment of society and lending a helping hand, you have come to the wrong person. My society consists of just one person - myself, and the only person in this world who needs all the monetary inputs is me. Charity is for the disillusioned and the weak. A conscience that cannot be leased out for money belongs to a person who is certified insane, or at best to a person who possesses a Master's Degree in Wallowing in Dirt, Garbage and Other Such Disgusting Places.

In case you want anything done and the law stands in your way, come to me. Pay the right amount and consider your work done. This is life, this is reality. Accept it soon because otherwise it will descend on you like a ton of bricks.