I had a friend who seemed to be always living in the future. Every conversation of hers was plotting and planning for a magical future, in which everything worked to her advantage — she would have money, love and leisure, in the right degree and perfect combination. Needless to say, she was happy only for the few minutes she planned that future. Since those few minutes of joy were so pure, it stands to reason she sought them out often and there was no conversation with questions or uncertainty. The rest of her time, she spent feeling resentful that the universe had not cooperated with her plans, how awful people were, how mediocre whole cities were. As a permanent caveat queen, I naturally annoyed her, quickly becoming the enemy, when I brought up past miscalculations or apparent problems in the plan. My bad, actually.

Doesn’t listening to some political conversations nowadays feel like this? During demonetisation, anything — from complaints about having to stand in line to puzzlement about alleged GPS chip in the notes — would result in either snarling mansplaining from some friends and denial from others. To listen to them, I alone in the world could not get hold of cash. All complaints were hysteria born from cynicism of the impending utopia.