Fueling Thoughts

The game is always rigged. My father’s disdain for the arts far exceeded his indifference toward my dyslexia, forcing me, a numerically challenged person, to study commerce. A subject I quickly developed an equal disdain for. What college didn’t teach me, despite being about trade and commerce, was that the game is rigged and the dice is always loaded. My first proper job selling cars in Kolkata seemed like a dream for an idealistic auto lover, till it quickly fell apart. I learned that most of the gruff, uncouth buyers who booked ₹6 lakh cars (in the 90s) did so only to sell the allocations at a premium. Concurrently, seeing how a nonchalant young plain-Jane at the bus stand, hopped into a van full of sleazy guys after a brief chat, catapulted my moral and sexual innocence to oblivion.  We learned that our rival dealer outsold us five to one. He was a well-heeled Marwari businessman who was related to, or knew all the who's who in town, and even the car manufacturer...