Clearly, the man had thought about this quite a lot, to the point of harbouring the kind of concern that people with less money and thinner mattresses keep hidden under their mattress. His reply was honest and disarming. ‘It’s like driving’ – what he meant was ‘being driven in’ – a Porsche on pothole-ridden roads. Everywhere I go, I’m admired and resented in equal measure.’ I honestly expected him to say that India was no longer a poor country and quote the likes of Surjit Bhalla. His candour impressed me.
Being very, very rich in a poor country – poor being not so much in abstract, theological GDP terms, but in its look, smell and feel – has its unique pressures. One would think that it would be more comfortable being super-rich here, like Napoleon hanging out with seven dwarves. But it turns out that it’s more like being Beethoven at a jagran.
Hosting social events can be ameliorative. Luckily, we live in an age where the super-rich genuinely feel comfy dressing down, while the educated middle-classes no longer find blinging up to be in poor taste. The rest is taken care of by banter – latest Netflix ‘drops’, Trump vs Kamala, the last vacation, what wine to have with which cheese…
But the very rich can throw lavish dinner parties in their mansions, complete with imported Pule cheese (made from the milk of Balkan donkeys in Serbia) and champagne harvested from the tears of French nuns, and still no amount of blackout curtains and soundproof walls can insulate them from WLO – What Lies Outside. And the outside does trickle in – balcony view, domestic help, visions outside the car window while travelling from Point A to Point B… Which can make being very, very wealthy in a poor country a bit of a letdown.
But there is a flipside. While a very, very wealthy (but not famous) Indian in India can mark his very, very wealthy exclusivity tag by spending on very, very expensive products, services and experiences, a rich (but not famous) person in a rich country may struggle to stand out. A billionaire from, say, Bangalore, may happily have a first world walkabout in Central Park – no, not the luxury housing complex in Gurgaon, but the green expanse between Upper West Side and Upper East Side in New York – only to find that even middle-school American teachers go jogging there regularly.Also, in places like Paris, everyone looks rich. So how does a super-rich person stand out, Gucci, Dolce & Gabbana and all in a place like that? At least here, even in the toniest neighbourhoods, looking rich to stand out requires little effort, with establishments in these posh areas making it clear that ‘drivers and ayahs’ (read: people who look like ‘drivers and ayahs’) are not allowed entry beyond a certain point. In a place like Frankfurt, how does one even ‘mistake someone’ for a driver or ayah?So, keeping the pros and cons of being a very, very wealthy person in a poor country in mind, my companion at the bar gave out a sigh. Did he feel out of place among very, very wealthy persons in a rich country?
‘Well, like Pink Floyd fans across the world, we are a group with shared values, beliefs and tastes. We have more in common with each other than with most of our non-rich countrymen. But yes, when Andrea Pignataro, who lives in St Moritz, tells me that he goes to his favourite bar Chamanna Jacques every weekday to read a newspaper and have a quiet lunch overlooking a wonderful terrace view and breathe in that Alpine air, I do wonder what I’m doing here right now. No offence.’
‘None taken,’ I reply, with an empathy that the rich, but not super-rich, possess.