Ancient Wisdom. Modern Conclusion – Episode 5: That’s Rich

Two ancient proverbs. One desperate Instagrammer. And a million reasons to delete your account.

Intro- Welcome back to Ancient Wisdom.Modern Conclusion—where old proverbs meet new problems, and usually leave with emotional damage. This episode? I take not one, but two timeless truths—“Persistence pays” and “A friend in need is a friend indeed”—and test them against the cruel algorithms of Instagram. Spoiler: the results are rich. Very rich. Maybe even taxable.

“A friend in need is a friend indeed,” I said to my best friend, Vipin.

He typed for a minute, kept the phone on the table, leaned against the chair, and gasped. “What do you want?”

“A friend to help another one, who is in need,” I smiled.

“This is the seventh time within this week you have said the same thing.” Vipin looked at me, clearly unimpressed.

“Doesn’t it count as persistence? And persistence pays, right?” I winked.

“That's applying two ancient wisdoms together. That’s rich,” Vipin picked up his phone and resumed typing. I peeked. It was Instagram.

“So? Are you helping your friend in need, or do I keep persisting till it pays?”

Vipin mumbled curses.

“Selfish friend,” I mumbled, cursing back. It hurt. It really did. Vipin was hurt. The dry fruit got tangled inside his complex teeth system. I could see Vipin moving his tongue inside his mouth like a flashlight that moves at different places. That meant my persistence was going to pay. The friend was considering helping another friend (me) in need, since he was in no mood for arguing because of his toothache.

“Ok. I did it,” Vipin said without moving his eyes from the phone, while still moving his tongue as if applying some kind of healing balm to his cracked tooth. “But let me tell you again,” he said, looking at me. “That’s rich.”

I got up and hugged him immediately. My friend had finally agreed to like my new post on Instagram. I was on top of the world. It was the fifth ‘like’ on my post. Overall. And the selfish jerk thought I was rich.

I hurried out of the cafe, leaving Vipin with his phone and the unpaid bill. He cursed with his fingers as I ran towards my bike, promising to meet again and settle the dues. It was my small victory. Persistence paid, although not handsomely.

In another seven days, I gathered two more likes. Mostly by asking my friends to help their friend in need. When they didn’t agree, I persisted till it paid, which was almost when they also wanted to kill me.

“Why is it so hard to like a post?” I asked a friend.

“Switch the tone. It sounds...” The friend pinched his lips as he considered and typed something on the phone.

“Good? You mean it sounds good?”

“That post?” He looked at me, pinched his lips. “That’s rich.”

I smiled, leaned back in my chair, and gasped. “Since I am new to Instagram, can you ask your wife to like my post too? Because you're convinced, use my pointers to convince your wife as well.”

The friend raised his brows and mumbled curses.

“Selfish friend,” I mumbled back. It hurt. It really did. The friend was hurt—pricked by the fork he had picked up to hit me in frustration. I picked up my bag and ran towards my bike. He cursed through the window as I promised to settle his dues.

I realised if I went at this pace, I would get another seven ‘likes’ utmost on my post. I mean, considering the friends I was still in touch with. So I doubled down on my persistence by persisting elsewhere. I persisted with everyone I met at a cafe to ‘like my post’. One of them finally agreed to read my post after a lot of persistence—or, let's say, bribe. “That’s rich,” he said and returned my money.

Others didn’t even bother to read my post, even though I doubled down on the persistence—or let's say, the cash. “Selfish stranger friends,” I called them. They just asked me to get lost. When I persisted with more cash—or let us say, nickels—most picked up a knife from the table and warned me. They thought I was some kind of maniac from the mental hospital. It hurt. It really did. The knife cut through their skin as I pushed them while running away towards my bike. They cursed, pointing their bloody fingers at me, asking for money to get themselves treated. I promised to settle their dues.

I knew I had to persist elsewhere. It was difficult to convince people offline to leave their useless work and do something worth their time. Like ‘liking’ my post online. So I persisted by messaging my friends and relatives on Instagram. “Help your friend in need,” I messaged them. Most of them cursed me online. It hurt. It really did. If I had known earlier, why would I have wasted so much time cursing people offline?

Frustrated, I changed my strategy. I persisted by sending random messages to strangers online, hoping my persistence would pay. So I messaged everyone I could on Instagram. The people who showed their furry cats or furry body hair. The people who clicked their selfies patting their dogs or the people who clicked themselves being patted by their partners. People who showed off or people who were naked. “Help a friend in need,” I messaged. Most didn't care. Some replied to me saying “That’s rich,” but no one ‘liked’ my post.

“Selfish online friends,” I replied while mumbling curses.

But two people cared and liked my post. Now, after a month of persisting, I had nine likes in total on my post.

I knew something was wrong. I doubled down on persistence. Finally, I got a reply from an expert on Instagram. He called himself an influencer. I asked him to like my post. He offered to get it liked by millions. I widened my smile. He asked for money.

“Selfish Influencer friend,” I replied. I thought he was helping a friend in need.

“Reel life is not as cheap as real life,” he said.

I agreed. But I promised to pay his dues, only after I got the rare, desired likes on my post. The influencer agreed.

The next day, I had a thousand likes on my post.

Finally, after putting in a lot of persistence, my efforts paid off. The influencer turned out to be a friend in disguise. The influencer friend helped the friend in need (me).

I messaged to thank him. He gave me an enormous bill. “That’s rich,” I said, wiping the sweat off my forehead with the five-hundred-rupee note in my hand.

“Don’t worry, you will recover every penny, since people have validated your post by their likes.” He validated my recently formed learnings.

Before I could reply or pay him, I saw Vipin and other friends ‘unliking’ my post.

“Selfish friend,” I mumbled curses and called them. They blocked me. I tried to call, but instead, my phone rang. It was the income tax department.

“Looks like we miscalculated your tax returns,” the tax officer on the line said.

“Sorry… sorry, sir?”

“Oh, you mentioned in your post that you have a Mercedes, three iPhones, two flats in Mumbai, 300 carats of gold, and two houses in the country. Well, that’s rich.”

“What?” I started sweating and wiped myself with the two five-hundred-rupee notes before me. “It's not real, sir. I saw everyone doing it on social media. Thought that’s how you show you are successful.”

The officer chuckled. “Reel life is real now. Looks like you have succeeded. You owe us a million dollars in tax payment. When are you paying your dues?”

I counted the dues I needed to pay to my friends offline, friends online, the influencer, and the tax department. It was more than the likes I had received on my stupid post.

“Selfish tax friend,” I mumbled, abusing curses. It hurt. It really did. The tax officer was hurt over my blatant curses.

I begged him to leave me. But he vowed to double down on his persistence till I paid.

I knew what I had to do. I deleted my social media accounts and ran as fast as I could towards my bike, promising my tax friend to pay him back, just like I did to my other friends.

**Modern Conclusion:**

- Ignore the friend in need.

- Worship the selfish friends.

- Persistence pays to the… greedy.