The Battle Hymn of the 1%

(As the reports from the Mahagun Moderne apartment complex keep getting drearier, we thought we’d reach out to one of our acquaintances living there to give us a first hand account of the current events.)

. As I write this, a terrible situation prevails all over our house. We can hear the baby crying from the other room, probably wondering why no one has changed its diaper in four days even though a stack of unopened diapers is visible from his crib. The living room looks like a shrine dedicated to take-away boxes, which are strewn about on every available surface. The kitchen sink is overflowing with unwashed utensils. The washroom smells like an entire herd of skunks have died in there. The fridge is out of commission ever since we opened it and saw that all the food it was stocked with has gone bad and formed some sentient green life form.

. Similar scenes are playing out all over our apartment complex. Some people’s houses are ruined to such an extent that they’ve taken to camping in one of our huge gardens. Food delivery boys are treated as liberators, saving us from the tyranny of hunger. Cleaning crews sent by fancy apps are so sought after that people are ready to name their firstborn after them. This is what the absence of any domestic workers in our apartment complex has done to us.

. And yet, we’re still not going to surrender. For far too long our domestic workers have had us under their thumb. We give and give and give and they take from us without ever giving us a second thought. Now is the time we take our destiny into our own hands and finally break free! Never again will we let our domestic workers oppress us.

. Viva La Revolution!

. They may take our money, but they will never take away our freedom. Because we’ll take theirs away first. No more giving them a raise just because it’s been a year since the last one. No more holidays on festivals! No more paying them for the days they weren’t well enough to show up for work. The time for them to rule us is over. It’s our time now.

. I know that these so-called journalists like to portray anyone who doesn’t live in abject poverty as a villain. Yeah, just because some poor people were ignorant enough to not know about birth control and had children they couldn’t afford to clothe or feed, we should all live like we’re in a Satyajit Ray movie. No one ever stands up for the rich. We deserve our rights too! Unlike popular belief, we don’t spend all our time bullying the poor. Sometimes we take weekends off to go play golf or relax at a yoga retreat.

. Anyway, not all of us are ignorant of our privilege, okay? We do our bit. We contribute! Just yesterday, I hosted kids from the local orphanage at my art gallery. I even gave them a lecture about the difference between the modernists and the traditionalists. Most of it went over their head, but that’s okay. I didn’t realize that none of them knew any French. Hey, at least they got some semblance of culture in their sordid lives. Sue me for trying to do a nice thing.

. I even gave all the children a grand meal of whatever food was discarded while preparing the banquet for our opening gala. Hey, they’re poor. They had no idea that the hors d’oeuvres they were gobbling down had gone sour because of a problem with the freezer.

. The kids were particularly mesmerised by this Satish Gujral piece that in my view portrays the dichotomy of how some of us tend to remain clueless about the consequences of our actions and how we don’t realise that the world doesn’t see us the way we see ourselves.

. We do so much for these people and look how they treat us. This whole thing started when they invaded our colony with sticks and stones. Making all that noise early in the morning when we hadn’t even had our coffee. Couldn’t they have held their protest at a more civilized hour? Some of us need to luxuriate in the mornings so as to gather enough energy to face the rest of our day. Talk about having no consideration for the concerns of your fellowmen!

. We give so much to our domestic help. Like our leftovers, all the milk that has gone or is about to go bad, any toys or clothes our children have outgrown, expired medicines, that box of knock-off Ferrero Rocher chocolates that cheap NRI relatives bought from the 99-cent store to give us as a gift, etc.

. We pay them so much money! Not the minimum wage set by the government, of course. We’re not idiots. Where we come from, laws are merely a suggestion and we treat them as such. But enough for them to buy mobile phones that keep them distracted and hamper their ability to work. This is why we make them switch it off when they enter our house.

. What Do You Want From Me?

. We even take them to all the nice restaurants we visit. Sure, we don’t let them sit with us because that would be gross. But we always make sure that they’re either standing in some corner out of everyone’s way or sitting at an empty table. Without us, they’d never be able to get in to such fancy places and be able to watch people eat all that scrumptious food.

. When I was younger, there wasn’t such a hue and cry over how we treated our domestic help. One could starve them, beat them, call them names, hold back their pay, and it was taken as normal. In fact, if you didn’t treat them badly, they thought you were soft. Nowadays, you just put them in solitary confinement because you suspect them of stealing your things and it becomes a national controversy. Shameful!

. Look, all our fellow residents did was lock their maid in an empty room and take away her phone so that she was at their mercy and had no contact with the outside world. It’s not like she was their prisoner or anything. What sort of monsters do you think live in this complex? They gave her a bottle of water that she could drink from and use it’s empty shell as a toilet. I heard they even gave her all the rotting fruits in their fridge to feast on. How thoughtful!

. Look, no one wants to keep their domestic help with force. It’s not like we even want to see their faces outside of our home. This is why we make sure that all the domestic help in the complex are made to take the stairs. It also helps build up their endurance. See, we’re not discriminating against them, we’re helping them. This way they get lots of exercise and don’t have to shell out all that money for soul cycle classes. Smart, eh?

. We do so much yet they’re never satisfied. Do these protesting maids realise what it is like to manage your work as well as set your own house in order without any help whatsoever? Do they have any idea what it’s like to come home from a day of work and then cook and clean for an entire family? We help them feed their children, put food on their plates, make sure they have all the things they need and yet they never even acknowledge how we make their life easier.

. If only there was some way to show all those selfish ingrates how awful they sound when they pretend to be the victim!

. (The above is a work of satire which was written in support of the sad plight of the residents of Mahugana Moderne. Some of the details mentioned in it might not correspond with real events. Duh.)

. The author can be contacted on Twitter @over_rated .

The Battle Hymn of the 1%

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