humour

Dance to the ‘Moo’sic

It is said that life on Earth depends on survival of the fittest. Hence the most weak species like the Dodo were wiped out or the most powerful species like the lion and the tiger are endangered as they have to deal with the so-called sharper minds of humans.

Do IITian’s have the sharpest minds among the humans? At least in India, we believe so, as most parents would love to have their wards in an IIT. They think that once their children are into an IIT they have that extra advantage over other ordinary students when they start out on the rat race. Yes, the every day struggle of humans to earn a living and achieve something in life is called a rat race.

But when they get into IIT, and especially IIT, Mumbai these students have to vie for space with so many other species.

Once, students in IIT, Mumbai were vulnerable to dangerous species like the Leopard and the Cobra. The nearby Powai Lake was infested with crocodiles. Yes, you read right. Don’t think that the IITian’s have it easy inside that sprawling, tree lined campus.

Nowadays, the Leopard and the Cobra have almost disappeared, though they do manage to make special guest appearances at lecture halls.

However, today the street dogs, the monkeys and cattle, lord it over inside the campus. Few months back, I had written about the monkey menace there. The dog infestation is across Mumbai, hence nothing special to write about.

But today, a student was run over by two, fighting bulls. It so happened that they were chasing each other on the IIT campus street when an unfortunate student happened to be in the line of their stampede. Of course, he happened to be staring into his mobile screen, which is an invention of a particularly mad scientist, bent upon making the human race to go backwards in civilization. So the bulls steamrolled the student who miraculously escaped with minor scratches though he did lose consciousness at that instant. But happy to report his survival.

This goes to show that a few species are putting up a good fight to try and prevent the human race from running away and ruining the planet by infiltrating the highest echelons of human learning.

Last heard, the humans have appealed to their highest authorities to rid the campus of other animal species. Or atleast control them, as these other species do provide a stress busting environment to the extremely stressed students.

Yatindra Tawde

humour

Rowdy Rooster

There was nothing rowdy about it. Maurice had malice towards none. It was in his nature. To crow early morning; his daily salute the morning Sun. And the French countryside loved him for that, their morning alarm which never failed to rouse them from deep slumber. In fact, few people in the village did not get their morning pressure till they heard him. 

Maurice had a booming crow and the online friendly young folk of the town had made him into a celebrity in France. But no one in the village were to know that their way of life was soon going to be challenged.

Maurice had a booming crow and the online friendly young folk of the town had made him into a celebrity in France. But no one in the village were to know that their way of life was soon going to be challenged.

We in the Indian metros are very familiar with the concept of a holiday home where the nuclear families yearn for a break from their stressed lives and builders take advantage of this craving by offering homes in idyllic surroundings of the countryside.

It seems this is a common phenomenon in other countries as well. Certainly France, where our hero, Maurice comes from. 

His neighborhood changed fast and soon his owner’s small dwelling was boxed between big bungalows in which the city folk moved into, especially during the weekends. They came, looking for some peace and quiet, which they got in plenty but putting up with the loud crowing of Maurice in the early morning was a challenge. His owner was faced with complaints and being a simple woman, she tried various tricks to quieten him.

Suddenly he found himself locked away for the night. Extra care was taken to ensure that the morning rays did not reach him. 

Poor Maurice!

What was he to do? He started crowing louder to plead with his owner to let him out. 

Finally, a city couple from the neighbourhood had had enough. They were retirees who had moved to the village to imbibe the village life but forgot to put their city egos in the city. They slapped a case against the owner and accused Maurice of making a great cacophony every morning and disturbing their beauty sleep.

Soon the case grabbed headlines across France and the Maurice Fan club gathered supporters. 

“The complainants are fools who have suddenly discovered that eggs don’t grow on trees!”, thundered the Mayor of the town.

The other animals of the countryside came out in support, the donkeys braying and the cows mooing.

The lawyer defended Maurice’s right to make himself heard. He himself was not in court otherwise he would have crowed in his own defence.

Last heard, the city folks are getting used to Maurice as they are finding his crowing an early morning stress buster compared to the sounds of the city.

Yatindra Tawde

humour

Tu cheese badi hai mast…

“Tu cheese badi hai mast mast”, went the superhit song of the 90’s, which had Khiladi Kumar and Raveena Tandon gyrating to the lyrics. The spelling of cheese above is not a spelling mistake, it is deliberately spelled so, since it is the heroine of this story.

It is said that all living things, including trees, respond to various types of music, in different ways. While we have seen cats enjoying piano music, dogs have been known to headbang to rock.

Trees respond to music too, and Indian classical has been proved to help the plants to thrive. However, certain research says that trees or plants respond to the vibrations produced by music.

Taking inspiration from above I decided to study the effects of music on cheese; I was very eager to know how the flavour and ripening of cheese would respond to different frequencies of musical sound.

So I went to the mall and bought 8 packets of cheese. After coming home the cheese was gently escorted out of the packs and kept on 8 wooden dishes seperately.

Then eight pairs of earphones were placed surrounding each wooden dish. Lot of thought went into the selection of eight types of music.

One dish of cheese wiggled itself to Elvis Presley while Beetles serenaded another.

While Country Music took it back to its country roots, afrobeat shook it up to its core.

Jazz was music to its core, and Folk music welled up its eyes.

The cheese really thrived in Indian classical, growing in size and spilling beyond the borders of the wooden dish.

But when I played it, its namesake song, “tu cheese badi hai mast mast…”, and tasted, I slurped my fingers; it has a strong flavour. Perhaps it was influenced by the pair of handsome specimen who wiggled their booty seductively.

You would think I have lost my mind but no.

Recently a team of researchers, who, usually don’t have anything productive to do, conducted an exactly similar experiment.

The team used mini transmitters to diffuse the musical energy into the cheese and this experiment went on for 6 months for the results to be concluded and finally the results were announced.

The cheese exposed to Mozart had a milder taste, but it was the cheese exposed to hip-hop which had a tangy flavour.

Hope, further research doesn’t say that the Gully boy binges on tangy cheese. Or the Classical wizard is a connoisseur of mild cheese…

Yatindra Tawde

humour, Sports

Cricket goes vegan

The diet of prehistoric man mainly consisted of meat and fish. Poor fellow, he wasn’t proficient in agriculture yet. So he had to subsist on food which was achieved by killing other living beings, or rather other animals. In addition to this, they were also drinking the milk of different animals.

Then he progressed and developed agriculture. Now he had choice of a new food; previously this choice had been restricted.

As they progressed further they developed a conscience. This conscience started troubling a few humans. They were overcome by a feeling of guilt on killing animals for food. A few gave up eating animals, subsisting only on vegetables, fruit and milk. They started calling themselves vegetarian while those belonging to the opposite spectrum were non-vegetarian.

After the industrial revolution and especially in the late twentieth century, diary farms were run like an industry, with target oriented milk production. This involved cruel practices like calves being taken away from the cows as soon as they were born and the cows themselves being abandoned as soon as their milk production went down.

Various research and studies also showed that man is not very lactose friendly. Combined with the inhuman practices in milk production, these studies pushed some humans to give up on milk too. They started subsisting only on plant products for their nutrition. A new term had to be coined for this category of humans and the vegans were born.

So today’s topic is Veganism but in an entirely different field. Yes, it is the cricket field we are talking about.

Now you may wonder what is the connection of a game of cricket with Veganism. Well lots, if the English are to be believed.

As you know, the cricket ball is a covering of leather encasing a core of cork which is layered with tightly wound string. This leather is cow leather but let me assure you that there is nothing cruel about this industry.

However, since it is leather, an animal product, it had to come under the scanner.

It so happened that a new owner took over one of the many small cricket clubs in England. This person happened to be vegan. But he was disturbed that one of the key ingredients of the game involved animal hides which usually gets a good hiding with the bat. He decided to do something about it.

His idea and some entrepreneur’s enterprise has resulted in a ball which is covered by rubber instead of leather.

It’s another matter that this ball bounces till the first floor currently but they assure us that it will be brought down to earth soon.

I wonder whether world cups of the future will be divided into vegan non-vegan teams playing with extra long bats to negotiate the delinquent balls.

Yatindra Tawde

humour, science

Recruitment Pigs

Recruitment Pigs! 

The title may have shocked you when you first read it but does this following word make any connect?

“Neuralink”. 

Yes, now you smile to yourself because many of you may have read it in the news or seen the video.

The billionaire entrepreneur is trying to recruit workers or volunteers for his neuroscience startup. Last year he used rats and this year he went further into evolution and used pigs.

While last year we just saw a rat posing coyly for a photograph with a Neuralink connected via an USB port, this year it was the turn of a pig strutting around with the Entrepreneur chaperoning it.

Gertrude, as the pig was lovingly called, was said to have its brain implanted with a small computer for two months.

This was at a live stream event to recruit employees for his Neuroscience startup, Neuralink. The small computer is a small coin-sized implant in Gertrude’s brain and described as a “fitbit in the skull with tiny wires”.

While the previous design meant for humans had super thin wires, thinner than the human hair, connected to a device mounted behind the ear, the new device is much smaller, does not require the ear device and has been claimed to be implantable directly in the brain by a surgical robot under local anaesthesia.

The goal of Neuralink is creating a wireless brain-machine interface with the hope of curing neurological conditions and allow paralyzed people to control a computer mouse, among other things.

The device is said to be removable and the entrepreneur showed off Dorothy, another pig, whom he claimed, had one of the devices implanted in its brain and subsequently removed.

While the goal of the entrepreneur is commendable, I couldn’t help but smile that the humble pig is playing a significant role in making progress towards a world where artificial intelligence would take on a whole new meaning.

Would the insult, “You swine” be taken as flattery in the future? Just thinking…

Yatindra Tawde

humour

What’s in a name…

What’s in a name? You might ask. 

I was forced to ask due to an ongoing trending story on social media.

Poor Shakespeare would turn in his grave when he comes to know, how his world famous quote from ‘Romeo and Juliet’ has been appropriated today by an Indian named ‘Binod’.

For those who don’t know their Shakespeare, in his ‘Romeo and Juliet’, Juliet famously says, “What’s in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” But Shakespeare had to write many masterpieces of English literature for his dialogues to become so famous as to be recalled by millions of his fans, sometimes out of context.

But this Indian named ‘Binod’ became famous, or rather, atleast his name became famous, so much so that the Who’s who of the world started quoting the name to stress various messages, which they would like to put across to the people.

What did this Binod do? It’s just a comment, did I say? Well, yes and no. A user called Binod Tharu has been doing nothing on YouTube. Yes, he has done nothing. 

Nothing except adding his first name Binod, in the comments section of huge number of YouTube videos uploaded on any and every subject under the Social media Sun. 

This was enough to troll him (an international sport?) with Binod memes and the rest as they say, is history. These Binod memes became so famous that national and international brands jumped on the bandwagon.

Swiggy celebrated their birthday with the tweet, ‘We think Binod will be the first person to call and wish us at 12 tonight’.

Airtel India exhorted it’s users to ‘Receive every call with Haan Binod bol’, asking them to comment and tag them with the reactions.

Amazon Prime video IN joined in the fun by using a still from the movie ‘Kuch kuch hota hai’ and saying, ‘Hi, I am Binod, naam toh suna hi hoga’.

But as usual the Mumbai Police twitter handle rocked with their own comment, ‘Dear Binod, we hope your name is not your online password. It’s pretty viral, change it now.” This was for their Online safety campaign.

Sometimes one doesn’t need to do something earth shattering to become famous nowadays, especially on the social media space, a humble well placed comment or comments are enough.

Yatindra Tawde

humour

Off the beaten track

Today, it rained cats and dogs, in Mumbai. And the good, old city weather bureau tells us that tomorrow will be worse. A few years back, maybe two, it would mean that the next day would be sunny but now it seems, they have pulled up their socks. Yes, nowadays they get it correct, more often than not. I am not sure whether it is due to better satellites or it is due to better clairvoyance.

When they enlightened Mumbai denizens about a long bout of heavy rainfall during the week, starting Tuesday, most people took it seriously and left for their work with an umbrella in hand. Well, atleast those who were brave enough to take on the combined threat of Corona and the pouring rains. So in addition to an umbrella in hand, they also had the twin protection of a mask covering their face. Till now we have seen cloth masks or the special surgical masks, however soon we may see plastic masks due to the rains. Or maybe not, since plastic masks don’t breathe.

As it usually happens every rainy season in Mumbai, people leave their homes in the mornings only to end up being caught in flooded streets or on flooded railway tracks. And today was no different.

While wild animals like leopards and pythons and deer have paid a visit to the fringes of the metropolis to check on their masked brethren, the fish haven’t been so adventurous. That is, till today.

Today, one of the stations on the central railway faced massive flooding; well, many stations did but this particular station made news with some rare visuals. While it is now a best kept secret that trains in Mumbai run through water during the rainy season, some visitors of the aquatic kind paid a visit to this station surprisingly.

Taking advantage of some calm waters on the railway tracks, a few fish had a great outing, swimming on those very tracks. While they gaped at the TV cameras with their pouted lips and graceful movements, the people marveled at their excursion far inland, which was certainly off their usual beaten track.

I have seen visuals on social media which show the nullahs in Japan towns brimming with colourful fish. Now, the time has come to replace these oft-repeated visuals with these newfangled fishy images of Amchi Mumbai.

Last heard, the fishermen are now making a beeline for Mumbai railway tracks and no, it is not for performing the early morning ablutions which have hitherto commanded a pride of place on the sides of the tracks.

Yatindra Tawde

humour

WAH!

Many young men see the larger than life movies and imagine themselves to be the main protagonists living the high life, romancing some damsel in distress and when time permits, saving the world on the side. Of course, no one wants to be the protagonist in the ‘Contagion’ or other such disaster movie.

But this is exactly what has happened to many of them. However if they are not from the medical field or from the police or from the essential service fields, then they belong to the humble WFH category. 

WTF, they are either WFH or WAH category. While everyone knows WFH, which is, Work From Home, what is WAH, one might ask. 

While the Indian WAH, is an exclamation of admiration for something or someone, an English WAH is a cry of fright or a cry of distress. I remember that in the comics which I read in my childhood, a crying baby always had an expanding bubble pointing towards itself, which went ‘waahh…’, to show that it is crying.

So, in these COVID times, WAH is WORK AT HOME, a syndrome affecting all households due to the disappearance of the MAID. While the ladies of the house were equally affected, it really brought out the English meaning for their not so better halfs, atleast in India. 

In most households in India, where ladies are also the earning members, they were used to managing their household responsibilities with loads of help from the maids. However one fine day, the maids stopped coming and the ladies were cooped up inside the house with their not so better halfs. This was a recipe for disaster. 

While for both of them, WFH was manageable, it was WAH which stretched and tested their relationship to the fullest. 

While some of the not so better halfs remained on the disaster path of not WAH, many of them decided to, or maybe, were left with no option but to help their better halfs to WAH effectively. 

So this is a story of one of those who chose the second option and his discoveries around the house. A house he usually returned to, late at night to eat dinner and sleep, only to rush off in the morning, with a half eaten breakfast.

Discovery 1 – human beings shed hair more than their pets, and those hair are the most difficult to sweep from the floor. Such hair has the uncanny ability to jump over the approaching broom, with atleast two sommersaults and rush back to where it was resting in the first place. So there is no option but to pick up the hair between two fingers, which is easier said than done.

Discovery 2 – many things which you forgot, ever existed in your house, are to be found below the bed, especially if it is having a very low floor clearance. One of my friends found a cassette long after the cassette player had been dumped recently. 

Discovery 3 – sweeping the floor is a very good exercise, if done meditatively. If it is done superficially nothing good will come out of it. Neither the floor will be clean nor your haunches will be strong. But if you use the mop, your forearms will be stronger.

Discovery 4 – washing clothes in a washing machine takes loads of time, especially if you wait for it. My friend finished the entire Da Vinci Code by the time the washing was over. And then, untangling the clothes from each other was much more mysterious than untangling the plotline.

Discovery 5 – the progress from a map of a country to a round shape was hastened due to the lockdown. I am talking about the shape of the humble chapati. It is a much more intricate job than sculpting an idol from stone. But a few have already given up and delegated that job to their better halfs. While a few of them are happy with their foresight, when they had decided to buy that chapati making machine.

Discovery 6 – transferring the chapati from the board to the pan is another skill altogether. The first many times are spent in retrieving the chapati parts from the pan and reimagining them into another round shape. As some great personalities have wondered, why should it always be round and not any other better manageable shape. Randomness in shape is more welcome, after all, variety is the name of the game, when it comes to food.

Discovery 7 – keeping up the constant movement of the chapati on the pan is a very important aspect otherwise one might end up with eating a crunchy, hard one instead of a soft, easily munchable one.

Discovery 8 – one day, the time comes when your better half feels confident to pass on the fine art of kneading the dough to you. Please brace for this day, as it is bound to happen sooner than later. So there you are, trying to balance the atta and the water with just a pinch of oil, in exact proportion so that it progresses from powder stage to a dough stage, without much of overflow spillage onto the kitchen platform. One of my friends discovered that it has all the characteristics of clay, and when the better half was not looking, made the most hideous dolls from it. When she finally saw his shenanigans, a shriek escaped her mouth followed by a swoon to the ground. His temple still displays the bump, just above his left eye, where she swung the roller in her hand and made contact, as she went down.

So on and so forth the discoveries will go on. I welcome my fellow not so better halfs, to contribute their own discoveries and help the WAH club. Why, even the better halfs can contribute too.

Will you be the English WAH or the Indian WAH, that is the million dollar question.

Yatindra Tawde

humour, Travel

The Recliner

Those who fly frequently will agree that the amount of space on offer is much less than in an ST Bus. That is, on most domestic flights.

Yes, the ST buses vibrate and they do travel on sturdy roads and they do make a lot of cacophony. But if you feel like stretching your legs, you can do so in the space available below the seat in front, if it is not occupied by assorted luggage of fellow travellers. And small mercies, the seats of a ST bus don’t recline.

Which is not the case in a domestic flight. Recently a video is doing the rounds of the social media in which a woman tries to recline her seat repeatedly while the man sitting behind her, bangs and pushes her seat as he doesn’t want to be inconvenienced. This video is from one of the western countries but a similar story repeats in our country skies too.

The usual story on a domestic flight goes something like this…

After what seems like an eternity of waiting in the departure area, finally the announcement everyone has been waiting for, is made. Unfortunately the departure gate has changed at the nth hour and everyone has to hurry across to the new one.

The flight duration itself is only 55 minutes but I have already spent more than 2 hours at the airport terminal. I am not even counting the 2 hours I spent in a taxi while reaching the airport.

A further few minutes are spent waiting in a queue to get the ticket scanned then I am on my way. As I reach the boarding bus, it gets full and speeds away. Fortunately another bus is just behind and I get onto it.

Like most other travellers, I don’t rush to the seats but stand near the bus door. As others have the same idea, soon the door gets blocked and someone from the airlines has to show the space available inside to the people who are already inside, by wild gesticulations of his hands and vocal cords. A few passengers (not me) finally get the message and reluctantly occupy the vacant seats thus allowing others to board the bus.

Some old ladies give me obnoxious looks, as if they have seen a particularly ugly specimen. Not to be outdone, I return an obnoxious look of my own. Then the airport tarmac darshan commences, with the bus meandering across the tarmac in search of the aircraft.

In a few minutes I am out on the Tarmac, as soon as the bus comes to a halt and the doors slide open. Happy to be the first in line, I rush with my laptop bag towards the front of the aircraft but the checker takes one look at my ticket and directs me towards the rear. Muttering expletives under my breath, I run across but find myself in yet another queue.

Finally I am inside but the stewardess ignores me but has a bright smile for the old gentleman following me and even wishes him! I glance at him over my shoulder; he seems extra jolly. I scowl at him and move on.

It takes an eternity to reach my row, mainly due to various passengers trying to fit their assorted luggage In the bins above.

As always my luck, or the lack of it, takes me to a middle seat. I think this is the worst seat to get via reservation, unless someone interesting occupies the neighbouring seats. However Murphy plays his part and I sit between two especially healthy specimen.

Due to the ample leg space, the person occupying the aisle seat has to get up and stand in the aisle while I try to find room for my laptop in the bin above. I push and shove the other luggage but can’t seem to fit my humble laptop bag there. Finally I dump it below the seat ahead and plonk myself in the middle seat. As I try to make myself comfortable, I find that there is no armrest for me as the two gentlemen own that space.

As I sit waiting for the aircraft to take off, the aircraft sits on the tarmac waiting for the green signal from the air traffic control. Finally it does…

The congested leg space is made more constricted by my neighbours but I decide to make myself comfortable by reclining my seat once the aircraft completes its ascent. Pressing the knob, I jerk back my seat.

“Bloody fool!”, I hear someone cursing from behind me. Ignore, man…ignore…and I pretend to sleep.

The curses go on for some more time and then fall silent. They always do. I slip into deep sleep.

Suddenly I feel huge pressure on my knees and wake up with a start. I find that the man in front of me has reclined his seat. A few expletives escape my mouth and spread themselves like mist in the air. But the totally shameless man in front of me is unaffected. He just covers his eyes and starts snoring…I let off steam for sometime and then I resign myself to my fate.

Friends! Isn’t this story quite familiar?

Though some of the passengers are obnoxious, this spatial challenge inside an aircraft is mainly profit driven. Previously the space between two consecutive rows was 34-35 inches which has now been reduced to 30-31 inches and in some cases, to a flimsy 28 inches.

The recliner angle, which had been designed considering the previous distance between the rows, hasn’t changed after the distance was reduced.

The precise reason for the decreasing space inside a huge aircraft. The precise reason why you, me and them fight.

Yatindra Tawde

humour

When wine flowed like water

The denizens of a certain Indian state enjoy their daily tipple. In fact it has the highest per capita alcohol consumption in India. Perhaps it has something to do with the tourists, both Indian as well as international, making a beeline for its back waters.

It is a fact that anything related to alcohol makes news here. 

When any region in the world is faced with unprecedented rains and flooding, the social media is flooded with stories of survival, stories of rescue and the like. But in this state, in addition to people related survival and rescue stories, alcohol too made its presence felt on social media.

Yes, you read that right. Once on a rainy Saturday morning, when I myself was recovering from a hangover from Friday excesses, my mobile pinged a notification. When I opened it, a video unfolded before my eyes. It was a video from this very state trying to recover itself from flooding. 

I saw a person bent over a flyover, trying to rescue someone or something from the flooded street below. A lot of bystanders nearby were making a big hullabaloo and running around the rescuer in circles. Many instructions were barked out, everyone advising the rescuer on the best way of rescue. My admiration went up a notch. Not only were they rescuing someone, they were determined that the rescuee shouldn’t get injured in the process; no, not even a scratch.

It seems, the rescuer wasn’t able to reach all the way down but was he discouraged? No. He removed his garment covering his legs and tied it to something. I think there was another good Samaritan below too. Finally their partnership succeeded and everyone on the flyover got involved in pulling up the parcel. As soon as they could catch hold of the basket carrying whatever was being rescued, a huge cry of triumph went across the flyover. The basket was lowered with the greatest care, the covers were opened…and many hands plunged inside. When they emerged from the basket, the mystery was resolved. Each hand was now the proud owner of an alcohol bottle! Whether it was beer, whiskey or rum, that’s not important. What’s important is the brotherhood shown; there was no pushing or shoving, everyone was happy with one. Such is the unifying power of alcohol.

That was then.

Today was another day when it made news here. I woke up and fetched the daily newspaper. And my groggy eyes widened on reading a story on the front page. It went like this –

Anitha woke up as she always did, at the stroke of 6.00 am. Afterall she had to prepare the breakfast and food for her office going husband, Anil and their two school going daughters. When she turned on the tap and blindly splashed water on her eyes, she let out a bloodcurdling scream. Anil and both daughters woke up with a start. Anil bolted from the bed and rushed to the bathroom. Relieved to see his wife standing but holding her palms to her eyes, he asked, “What happened?”

“The water…the water”, she screamed. “It’s burning my eyes”.

Anil opened the tap and was shocked to find brown water flowing. “The water seems to be brown. Let me check the other taps.”

He checked and saw brown water flowing everywhere. He let it flow for some time, thinking that some rust must have been dislodged. But no, the brown water continued to flow. 

“I think, let’s check with our neighbours, the Nairs”, said Anitha, whose eyes had stopped burning now.

The same phenomenon was repeated at the Nairs. In fact, the same phenomenon repeated throughout their housing society. 

Everyone collected in the building lobby below. A few men went towards the common tap. Mr. Nair, who was the adventurous type, tasted the water. Taking one sip, his eyes lit up. He asked Anil to taste, who did likewise. But unable to bear, Anil threw up.

With a poker face, Mr. Nair said, “I think it’s whiskey. Anil is a teetotaller, that’s why he couldn’t stand it.”

Just then, few others tasted too. Someone said, “It’s not whiskey, it’s rum.” While a few others claimed it tasted like beer. However everyone reached to the conclusion that it’s alcohol which was flowing through the taps. Though most were happy with these state of affairs, their suppressed fantasy coming true, they realised that for day to day living, water is better, especially when one is living with the family.

So they decided to complain to the authorities. Finally the authorities were able to pinpoint the exact cause, and the culprit was… the authorities themselves. The Excise officials to be precise. 

They were in possession of an old stock of various types of liquor, recovered almost 6 years back, from a raid on a bar, which happened to be in the neighborhood of the affected apartment building. The Excise officials had tried to destroy the stock by digging a pit on the bar premises and pouring the liquor into it. Unfortunately, the delinquent liquid found a way into the neighbouring well, which was being used as a water supply source for the occupants of the building. 

Thus arose, the happy state of affairs. 

It is whispered that whenever some grief falls on the denizens of the state, alcohol rises to subdue all darkness and restore happy hours.

Yatindra Tawde