Satireday
Chintito Since1995

No way out for the poor

Relaxing on the deck of his 50-metre yacht, off the Grand Resort Lagonissi in Athens, a quadrillionaire was sipping on his orange juice before a late breakfast. It was spiked with a dash of lemon and fresh mint sprigs.  

While swiping through the morning e-papers, Carlos came across the picture of a child begging for food and water somewhere in the Gaza strip. He could relate to the child because he too was barely dressed. He was moved. The sunrise was getting into his eyes.

At that moment, the chief steward kneeled to his ear to whisper whether the overnight excess food could be thrown into the sea. This was routine protocol ever since the staff misplaced a visiting card he had left behind on the 30-seat dining table. He nodded without moving his eyes from the child.

His heart was bleeding. This resort was costing him $50,000 dollars daily. He had to do something for the suffering billions. His heart was warming up. He decided to do something for the hungry and the deprived. The need was huge. He could not do it alone. His other quadrillionaire friends could help. He picked up his diamond studded cellphone with his 15-ringed left hand and called a fellow quadrillionaire.

"Hola, Alejandro! I have been thinking [sip of orange juice]."

"That's new," says his friend from Fiji's Laucala Island, where the Hilltop Villa rents at $44,000 per night. "But, seriously," our juice sipping Richie continues, "I would be needing a maximum of one trillion dollars for the rest of my life."

"You won't live that long," guffaws Alejandro.

Sipping a large final gulp Carlos added, "My family too are trillionaires.

"Listen, Alejandro, let's do something for the poorest half of the world. Four billion people own only two percent of the global wealth, while we, the richest 10 percent, possess 76 percent."

Alejandro was pensive. "What about the new wealth worth $42 trillion created in 2020?"

Carlos was curious. Two-thirds of that amount was taken by the handful of the richest. Ninety-nine percent of the world's population shared the rest, explained his friend.

They agreed it was a septillion-dollar shame. They should summon some other friends. If they each kept a trillion or two, they could easily give away the rest to the world's majority. Poets have been writing about them for 4,000 years since Mesopotamian princess Enheduanna.

The meeting of a dozen quadrillionaires was called at Banwa Private Island in the Philippines, where the rent was $100,000 per night. Also taking separate two-hour helicopter journeys from Manila were their respective financial advisers. Oh-oh! That smells bad.

That would make you poor by your standard, began a grim adviser, whose salary was one million. We will still have our trillions, they said in unison.

Another adviser pondered. What if royal families do not invite you because of your lowered status? Harry is happy with Meghan, they chuckled.

And presidents? That would be a pleasure, the dozen agreed.

Imagine how the poorest will be happy. The vulnerable will have ample food, enough clothing, adequate shelter... Gari, bari…, said one with Bengali ancestry. Till now these words helped to compose only great speeches.

The advisers were not giving up. Their self-interest was paramount, it seemed. Would it be good? All the people in the world as equals? Who would run the government? The hall went silent. True, who would be the president?

The cleverest among them shall rule, volunteered one.  For how long, begged an advisor. As long as he or she is the cleverest, suggested another. That could keep someone in office for decades. And absolute power corrupts absolutely. The advisers thought they were finally making headway.

Why can the strongest not rule? The advisers were relentless in creating bottlenecks. We did not make our money by wrestling, they all laughed aloud.

How do we choose the cleverest then? Advertisement? Search committee? AI? The advisers made a final bid, we could shortlist from the guys who partake in TV talk shows. They have answers to all the problems in the world. I fired one of them for inadequacy, quipped one among the moneyed fellows.

They have one disadvantage though, said an adviser apparently breaking ranks: they cannot think in daylight, or without an AC. But a government cannot continue as an evening show only, butted another. There are issues 24/7 in all seasons. Infighting among the financial wizards ensued.

The wisest among the wealthiest finally spoke. These talk showmen could not address problems when they were working executives. Now on TV they are advising the world what they did not or could not do.

"I am out."

The others got up together.

The advisers winked at each other. The high fives were delayed till after they left Banwa Island. People will remain poor for now. 

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Chintito Since1995

No way out for the poor

Relaxing on the deck of his 50-metre yacht, off the Grand Resort Lagonissi in Athens, a quadrillionaire was sipping on his orange juice before a late breakfast. It was spiked with a dash of lemon and fresh mint sprigs.  

While swiping through the morning e-papers, Carlos came across the picture of a child begging for food and water somewhere in the Gaza strip. He could relate to the child because he too was barely dressed. He was moved. The sunrise was getting into his eyes.

At that moment, the chief steward kneeled to his ear to whisper whether the overnight excess food could be thrown into the sea. This was routine protocol ever since the staff misplaced a visiting card he had left behind on the 30-seat dining table. He nodded without moving his eyes from the child.

His heart was bleeding. This resort was costing him $50,000 dollars daily. He had to do something for the suffering billions. His heart was warming up. He decided to do something for the hungry and the deprived. The need was huge. He could not do it alone. His other quadrillionaire friends could help. He picked up his diamond studded cellphone with his 15-ringed left hand and called a fellow quadrillionaire.

"Hola, Alejandro! I have been thinking [sip of orange juice]."

"That's new," says his friend from Fiji's Laucala Island, where the Hilltop Villa rents at $44,000 per night. "But, seriously," our juice sipping Richie continues, "I would be needing a maximum of one trillion dollars for the rest of my life."

"You won't live that long," guffaws Alejandro.

Sipping a large final gulp Carlos added, "My family too are trillionaires.

"Listen, Alejandro, let's do something for the poorest half of the world. Four billion people own only two percent of the global wealth, while we, the richest 10 percent, possess 76 percent."

Alejandro was pensive. "What about the new wealth worth $42 trillion created in 2020?"

Carlos was curious. Two-thirds of that amount was taken by the handful of the richest. Ninety-nine percent of the world's population shared the rest, explained his friend.

They agreed it was a septillion-dollar shame. They should summon some other friends. If they each kept a trillion or two, they could easily give away the rest to the world's majority. Poets have been writing about them for 4,000 years since Mesopotamian princess Enheduanna.

The meeting of a dozen quadrillionaires was called at Banwa Private Island in the Philippines, where the rent was $100,000 per night. Also taking separate two-hour helicopter journeys from Manila were their respective financial advisers. Oh-oh! That smells bad.

That would make you poor by your standard, began a grim adviser, whose salary was one million. We will still have our trillions, they said in unison.

Another adviser pondered. What if royal families do not invite you because of your lowered status? Harry is happy with Meghan, they chuckled.

And presidents? That would be a pleasure, the dozen agreed.

Imagine how the poorest will be happy. The vulnerable will have ample food, enough clothing, adequate shelter... Gari, bari…, said one with Bengali ancestry. Till now these words helped to compose only great speeches.

The advisers were not giving up. Their self-interest was paramount, it seemed. Would it be good? All the people in the world as equals? Who would run the government? The hall went silent. True, who would be the president?

The cleverest among them shall rule, volunteered one.  For how long, begged an advisor. As long as he or she is the cleverest, suggested another. That could keep someone in office for decades. And absolute power corrupts absolutely. The advisers thought they were finally making headway.

Why can the strongest not rule? The advisers were relentless in creating bottlenecks. We did not make our money by wrestling, they all laughed aloud.

How do we choose the cleverest then? Advertisement? Search committee? AI? The advisers made a final bid, we could shortlist from the guys who partake in TV talk shows. They have answers to all the problems in the world. I fired one of them for inadequacy, quipped one among the moneyed fellows.

They have one disadvantage though, said an adviser apparently breaking ranks: they cannot think in daylight, or without an AC. But a government cannot continue as an evening show only, butted another. There are issues 24/7 in all seasons. Infighting among the financial wizards ensued.

The wisest among the wealthiest finally spoke. These talk showmen could not address problems when they were working executives. Now on TV they are advising the world what they did not or could not do.

"I am out."

The others got up together.

The advisers winked at each other. The high fives were delayed till after they left Banwa Island. People will remain poor for now. 

Comments

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