Pomp and Happiness

Can we ever break free from the unending display of wealth and might?

- Tanul Thakur

HI, I'm Happy. No, not happy, just Happy. Actually, HI'm in I'm happy, too, because I'm Happy. Chances are high you already know about me; chances are high you crave my life; chances are high you loathe me. Who wouldn't? I'm rich. I'm famous. I'm cute. Still confused about who I'm? Ambani, Happy Ambani, Anant's dog. Yes, a literal dog, a Golden Retriever, unlike you metaphorical ones. (LOL, sorry, a low blow, but I couldn't resist.) I hope you don't compare me with that loser Pluto from Dil Dhadakne Do-simplistic philosophy is not my thing-and I'm too classy for that mawkish meathead, Tuffy, from Hum Aapke Hain Koun. I'm a world unto my own and, like Salman bhai, I only expose when the script demands.

Over the last few months, many commentators have balked-or barked?-at my master's extravagant and expensive wedding. They can't stand it. They can't see it. They can't unsee it. What do they want? Freedom. Freedom from this vulgar, unending spectacle. The freedom to not watch, or think about, something that offends their senses, sensibilities, sensitivities. Listen, you pauper philistines, this wedding was like (Gujarati) Hotel California: You can check out but never leave.

But I don't think that explanation would suffice. So today, making my journalistic debut (in an as-told-to piece because, like a proper seth, I'm too pricey to write one), I want to set the record straight. More so because our own news channels are good for some things but none of them involve facts. So here I'm: to wire your brains, to scroll down your complaints, to change your outlook, to make you step down from your caravan of high horses, and to tell you-simply, quickly, easily-the real story of India today.