Did I mention whips?
But I digress.
Though it certainly exists in certain marginalized pockets of society, it's hard to imagine in these days of bourgeouis capitalism someone driven to such straitened circumstances as indentured servitude. Though I am sure there are more than a few who have had to resort to nefarious means of recovering their wealth, I doubt many would even think of offering themselves up for slavery to recoup their losses. Then yesterday I came to realize that not all old folk tales are plain hearsay and some are actually based on real life. Since everyone likes a little allegory every once in a while, come sit ye down and let me tell you a story.
Take these with a pinch of salt and call me in the morning!
Once upon a time ( well, actually just yesterday morning ), a sweet charming fella somewhere abouts in the verdant gardens of Cheras found himself profoundly stricken by a mysterious malady. Rising up from his slumber with bones aching and seemingly aged with disease, he dug around in his belongings in search of coin but found his pockets utterly to let. Not only was our hero desperately mired in debt, he found himself without a single cent to call his own, hardly enough to even purchase the services of a travelling medical practitioner.
Without giving up hope, the poor man bravely made his way to the doors of several respected financial institutions in search of a credit loan ( though hopefully no clandestine visits to the ubiquitous limb-hacking ah beng loan sharks ) but summarily found himself being turned away due to equally mysterious circumstances. The Mystery of the Disappearing Credit anyone? No one could tell what exactly had gone wrong but I believe an inexplicable glitch in the computer system could have been the culprit ( but this is a pseudo-medieval folk tale after all! ).
Desolation and despair shook his very soul but he wasn't one to give up all hope. So instead of seeking help from his equally beleaguered friends ( or rather than accept charity ), our depressed discomfited hero resolutely sought refuge several miles away - farther than the crow flies, I'm sure - in a suburban strip mall as he busked to earn dollars and cents to pay his medical bills. Possibly strumming Nobody's Child as sympathetic passersby in the mall tossed spare change into his precious money hat.
Fortunately there was just enough made from his earnings to supply him with enough herbs and medicines ( from a medical charlatan no doubt ) to last a week. All's unwell that ends well.
And I hear tell his partner's a physician. Sigh. What is the world coming to?