Friday, February 22, 2008

Dharti Putra

Word of Derision - This is mostly plagiarized from a mail I wrote (and one I received). I apologize for the lack of originality.



In a time not so long ago, humans occupied the ramparts of a dilapidated fortress in the state of Gujarat. They guarded their private space with fierce gumption and allowed no one to intrude upon it. As time passed by, some humans got jazzier (by the day) about cohabiting with exotic species. Soon, certain varieties of peacocks, langurs and the like also joined the military ranks. No one minded the change of policy as it was the order of the day. However, slowly but steadily, certain numbers from the rival K9 Gang (Canine to non-jazzy people) also started taking over significant portions of the human territory. Nocturnal rendezvous in shady corners (for obvious reasons) became forbidden. Social gatherings in uncharted areas became a strict no-no. Dogs, as the intruders came to be known as, had struck fear in the hearts of the mighty warriors of the human kind. Dogs were everywhere. They slept in our rooms, ate from our plates, drank from our cups, and peed in our washrooms. The time was ripe for a revolution.

Humans marched in big numbers, protesting against the council’s inability to deal with the problem. But there was a minority faction to deal with. Concerned voices in the faction were supporting the cause of the Dogs. “No, they are not going to be chucked out of the campus. That probably amounts to cruelty against an endangered species”, said their spokesperson. It didn’t matter if they enacted obscene scenes learnt from National Geographic and guffawed at our discomfiture. Many of us were caught in a predicament (that undecided gang probably included me too). To itch or not to itch. That was the question. The benefit of doubt went to the Canine kind. They were staying. That day, huge numbers of Dogs came out and reveled through the night. They wagged their tales at their distracters. They danced. They feasted. They howled. And, then they mated :|

The era of the Jhola Krantikaris had just begun. They sniffed around for abusers of environment (the list included acrobatic lizards as well) and jhadofied them in full public view. “Beware of the JKs”, we told our junior militia. I switched off my power guzzling night lamp more often than I would have liked to. I even began snooping around in barred rooms and putting out lamps and fans. The frightened militia was even known to feed Dogs from outside the fortress. The JKs seemed pleased at this. An uneasy peace existed. But that was the lull before another storm.

I remember the story well. It all began one day when a majority of the humans could be seen wandering from wing to wing, soap in hand, wondering where they could dispose of all the muck from the day before. Some of the displeased were the dreaded JKs. They called a meeting…………

Now let's dwell on the water saving tirade for some time. It had been on the agenda for quite some time. Thus it’s paramount that one understands the background. It's only then that one realizes the ingenuity of the solution. Now, we probably have more trees, shrubs, bushes, herbs, gardens and grass than any other institute in the state of Aapnu Gujarat. Anyway, maintaining the manicured gardens takes enormous amounts of man power (and water). “We Provide Employment”, they say. Fine. But what about water? Where is that going to come from? Silence. Aha.

"What about getting rid of them? Chop down the bloody things", said another visionary. No can't do. The green looking things are all counted and accounted for. It’s very likely that there is actually a number that can be arrived at. The singularity of the situation can be better appreciated when one is told that the institute land is actually forest area that has been leased out to the administration at a fee of Re 1 per year. Hefty fine awaits anyone who as much as plucks a twig from a dead tree. Talk about inflation and the entire hullabaloo surrounding it. Baah.


Back to the meeting……….

Now sometime during the course of the heated discussions, some crazy ass environmental freak (like so many that can be found these days) suggested that we should use sewage water for watering all the lush greenery in the campus. Even the JKs themselves were a bit surprised by the novelty of the idea. Whaaaaat? Are you crazy? Heh heh...sorta. Damn. The majority, not knowing what to do because of the turds still inside them, supported the wild idea and the plan got implemented. So now every evening (mornings when I am fortunate) we have our lovely sprinklers going swish swish swish with the hagga water all over the campus. The water is treated of course. But the stench remains, at least for an hour (or maybe more). Poor and helpless militia men (read students) can often be found employing hitherto unknown acrobatic skills in evading jets of sweet smelling fluids. It is said that no nasal malfunctions have been reported till now.

But our jhola krantikaris did not stop at just that. Some wisecrack amongst them suggested that we use the same (hagga) water for our tatti washing sessions too. Voila. Potty mein to waise hi badboo aati hai. Paani se thodi aur sahi. Clap Clap Clap. What a visionary! So here I am, a normal guy gifted with a decent sense of smell, who is subjected to attacks on his nasal sensibilities every day. The lavatories don't have a flush. Just turn the knob and whoooosh, your hagga water is back to serve you in your daily ablutions, sans all the muck. Life couldn’t have been better.

The story of our Dharti Putras does not end here of course. They continue to fight for their cause. Their distracters jeer at them for being sissy. The undecided kind hang out with whomsoever they deem fit. So it might be safe to say that I am contributing my bit in saving the planet. Dew or no dew, let's just say we smell it every day, shall we?

9 comments:

  1. Jhola Krantikari...nice title...though not as good as IC

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  2. Man you kicked ass this time....

    I am compelled to write a word or two in praise of the typing you have done here.

    Its just like someone giving words to what was stuck in our minds(or say smelled in the noses) since long.

    Man the work you did is worth a praise(No typos either).

    Good job....but the work of krantikarees is not done just like that. You need to fwd this to our college's admin(may read muck).

    Whole college will praise you....and then we will say with pride.....our oldie did something for the college.....May His damned Soul Rest In Peace.

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  3. Ha ha !

    I think I know who this is !

    Ha ha !

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  4. @anon
    You do the honors. I have never bothered about copyright issues anyway.

    @piper
    You can come to my room and leave a secret message on the fifth page of the third copy (from top) that is kept in my shelf. I am eager to find names.

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  5. The jholakrantikaari speaketh. Stolen from mails and the like. Never mind.

    The woman just told me her curse worketh. Amusing indeed.

    About the copies you have...let us stay mum.

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  6. Everbody hails the tiger. The pangolins die their silent death. :| The big and beautiful always win...so predictable.

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  7. Pinky, don't be paranoid. None of your comments was deleted. I am veru sure of it. I think you are losing your grey cells faster than you are losing your mind.

    Woman will have pangolins too. But I doubt whether that will help in the mating rituals. Hmmm...

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