A WASTED LIFE
By Neel Anil Panicker
For many it’s just scrap. A waste. An eyesore. A thing that’s lived way it’s expiry date, now a major source of embarrassment.
A once throbbing, thriving, useful body that’s now of no use.
Or, so believed the Singhanias. One Gaurav Singhania in particular—the not yet thirty brash, foul mouthing heir to the billion dollar multinational business empire that his grandfather had built from, guess what!, scrap.
Yes, the old man who once hawked discarded cycle tubes was now himself a discard—his favourite grandchild had seen to that.
One who created wealth out of waste, now himself a waste.
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