This is a 2200-word comic personal essay, part fictional, partly from real life emotions and events. Shared with friends and readers: a private sharing (this piece is not to be considered published, and not to be shared). Tragicomical personal essay, 2200 words. {See excerpt below}


Long, long, ago, in an innocent Indian town, there lived a happy Indian writer who wrote short, opinionated, crotchety, verbally gymnastic and ravingly lunatic essays for a respectable Indian newspaper and assorted semi-respectable rags. He made people laugh, and he probably laughed more than thrice as much as all his audience put together, that too each time he reread those pieces.


As for the reason I never got around to being a bellboy when I came to America: I had become engaged to, and then just married a woman to whom I had confessed my dreams and my faith. Mesmerized by love, she had become an instant believer, and we had bet our future and our fortune