I have reached that certain bespectacled age and stage in life when television is no longer about F.R.I.E.N.D.S but friendly men and women selling me insurances on screen. From scene one of soft-jingle and pastels to the last bit where the ‘Please read the offer documents carefully’ mach-speeds past, I remain all ears. My body may not be saying it as much, but my mind tells me having a good insurance cover in my locker is the key to a happy life. And if it’s health insurance, I get to see my happy face while alive!
But then we are nothing if we are not creative. While I have decided that a company like Religare Health Insurance will deal with the serious, more important side of life, ensuring medical bills are no burden and my health insurance stays by my side like a loyal friend, what about feeding my wacky soul? Surely it may insure the things I cherish enough to suffer successive births, can’t I?
I don’t think you get me. See, celebrities are known to insure for great sums what they think are their assets. From smiles, hair and voices to tongues, fingers and legs; pretty much anything that gets them a movie or an album deal, or a kick of vanity, seeks insurance. Why, an insurer is even offering coverage for “a potential zombie apocalypse and the resulting cleaning costs.”
It becomes important then, in a world where everyone needs to keep up with everyone else, that we too realize our assets and immediately get them covered. I have realized mine. Because to insure them would mean ensuring my happiness, which in turn would give me good health. It’s all very symbiotic. Here’s a small list:
1. My last haircut, combined with how the three stuck chewing gums in the movie hall were removed, has given me a mane which is oh-so-original that no stylist – human or otherwise – can ever replicate it. I love it. And it needs proper coverage.
2. The keloid near my neck, my butterfly, gets me more attention than the one of my shoulder. Thus, this baby will be insured for a sum that will put all the prying eyes and gawking mouths to shame.
3. My hands, never still or even manicured, will be covered under talent. Why? How else do you think such a masterpiece is being typed? In fact, it is my firm belief that I have tiny brains lodged in my fingertips. That is why a post gets written even when I’m asleep!
4. My stomach, because it can stomach anything without it running down on me. Roadside chowmein to three-week old leftover dal, bad jokes to my worst own jokes, I have an impermeable stainless steel coating in my alimentary canal that you possibly cannot fathom.
5. My big toes. Both of them. Such gargantuan proportions they enjoy that they have always made their presence felt right through my PT shoes, and don’t seem to be losing their bite with age. What a solid gene from daddy’s side! See them in flip-flops to believe them, as they are forever reaching out to the path ahead.
So there you have it. My health insurance will be sealed with the best name, as I mentioned above. But on a separate note, all my personal happiness-ensurers (c.f. 1-5) are going to find the right coverage out there, too. I’m sure an insurer is mailing me even as I type this.
It’s time for my toes, because the biggest assets are noticed first, to be covered and revealed to the world!
What about you? Have you decided who you trust with your health and happiness, yet?