Dear Mr Srisatyam Janabandula,
This is in response to the recent picture you posted on Facebook, taken with your brand-new selfie expert camera. Yes, I refer to the one of you standing — hands folded, sporting an XXXL FabIndia kurta and beatific smile — outside the state-of-the-art world headquarters of Mahayogashri Gurupada Sriparakashta Yekkako Yekkakka Sarvaraja Samayochita Pratishamananda, built over a hundred acres of cleared reserve forest. The picture is accompanied by this pithy message: #feelingblessed.
We write now to inform you that there has been some kind of misunderstanding, best clarified at the earliest.
Firstly, we are unable to understand how you could have come to the conclusion that you are, as you put it, “feeling blessed”. (Of late, we’ve noticed the rampant misuse of this phrase on social media.)
Is it, sir, because you performed the supreme sacrifice of foregoing your tri-weekly golf session with your buddies ‘Kulla’ Kumar and Jacob Kurien to get there?
Or perhaps you felt so because of the deep kindness you showed your chauffeur, Muthu, knuckle-sandwiching him only twice during the entire journey as he muttered under his breath about his two months’ unpaid salary?
Or could it be because you cursed only in your native tongue when the videos you were perusing along the way ( Wild Girls of Spring Break 2016 ) kept buffering constantly on account of the *%@*ing 3G being useless?
Or is it because, as soon as you arrived, you piously partook of three extra-large bowls of the prasadam (with additional cashew) at the venue?
Or maybe the annual subscription you pay for the VVID (Very Valued Important Devotee) darshan made you feel this way?
Or is it the three minutes of deep breathing/ dhyanam you undertook even as you peeked from the corner of an eye at that saintly if buxom lady devotee in the blue chiffon sari?
Or is it a combination of all these factors?
Unfortunately, sir, contrary to current belief on social media, none of the above mentioned endeavours, burdensome, devout and wondrous though they may seem to you, are assurances, or for that matter, even applications for blessings of any kind.
We request you to ignore Ms Violet Devasahayam and Mr Neelesh Jain, who have written #stayblessed in the comments section of your post. The same goes for the surfeit of folded-hands emojis. Yes, even the politically correct brown-skinned ones.
You see, here’s the thing, Mr Janabandula. For you to stay blessed, you would have to be blessed in the first place. Which, we assure you, you are not.
In conclusion, my note, sadly, sir, is to tell you, that as opposed to #feelingblessed, you ought to be feeling quite the opposite. Without further ado, we request you to go in for a master health check-up, shift to walking instead of using the buggy while golfing, and go easy on the prasadam .
Also, while we are at it, your daughter, Ms Sushruti Janabandula, posted a picture of herself last Saturday at The Up-Chuck Pub & Resto Bar. She accompanied it with the following phrase: #feelingawesome. Believe me, we have seen her dance moves; she isn’t. Maybe you could make an appointment for her, too, with a good doctor, and have her disturbing gross motor skills evaluated.
We do hope that, as the current generation puts it, we are finally on the same page.
Yours omnisciently,
The One
PS: The IT raid you were praying wouldn’t happen – it is happening as we speak.
Krishna Shastri Devulapalli is a satirist and humour writer. His first novel was called Ice Boys in Bell Bottoms.
