Lagaan

For the Bollywood challenged, Lagaan is tax. And I am not talking about Income tax, for tax can be on anything under the Sun. But even then, I was not prepared for this.

New Zealand, a heaven on earth, is known for its dairy farming, agriculture and wool. Since these dominate their exports too, huge percentage of its people are into these businesses. Which means, after humans, cows and sheep make up a majority of the country’s fauna.

The people had slumbered into a state of bliss when the government decided to shake things up. Due to the millions of cows and sheep across the countryside, they naturally release tons of greenhouse gases. These need to be controlled to slow down the warming of earth’s surface.

So the government decided to tax the burps and farts of the cattle. Imagine! There’s a serious meeting going on in the highest echelons of power when suddenly someone burps or someone farts on the job, and Eureka! Let’s tax those, says someone. And a law gets passed.

The people were pissed. However they were told to charge more for climate-friendly products, whichever they are. Cheers to that they said and gorged on climate-unfriendly food and burped away to glory.

However, the global consumers of New Zealand’s climate-friendly dairy products were not amused. In India the consumers protested. Indians are known to be creative in everything they do. It was not different this time.

They threw a big party for their own formidable cattle force and a gigantic feast was arranged. They were fed the most gas inducing nuts in addition to the usual hay. And the result was a symphony of earth shuddering burps and farts which shook the neighbourhood and resulted in an Ozone hole overhead.

However, some enterprising Indians are now exporting cattle fart depressors to New Zealand and are laughing all the way to the bank.

Yatindra Tawde

Image courtesy unsplash.com and Leopold Maitre

The Rampwalk

 First published on ArtoonsInn

The name is Rocky, you must have heard about me. I am a famous runner and last year’s winner of the annual races which take place near Pune. In fact I have won these races three years in a row.

When I enter the arena the crowd goes berserk with whistles and claps. I make their adrenaline flow. I am just itching to be at the races this year too, wearing my favourite silk clothes, lovingly woven for me by my mother.

But hey! What is this I hear? The races this year are being canceled just because of some wave! Guys, this is Pune, no wave can reach so far inland. But then the authorities who give the permissions are serious. They don’t want any deaths due to waves, they say. The race organizers are exasperated.  But their hands are tied and they are forced to announce the cancelation.

I sulk…but I sulk well. Seeing me sulking in a corner, hardly chewing the cud, my brother Pandurang Patil has a brilliant idea. He knows that I thrive on spectator feedback and his ticking brain comes up with an unique idea. He discusses with the organizers and a day is decided. And my practice starts in preparation for the D-day.

Finally the day dawns. I am bathed from head to toe. The oil massage is a luxury. I enjoy being pampered thus.

Like every year my mother dresses me in the best silks. I enter the arena. As I enter, I look at the camera mounted near the entry and nod my head in acknowledgement, just like brother Pandurang has taught me. In fact it is he, dressed in his best clothes, who is leading me to the arena. I hear whistles and claps though no one can be seen.

A long, clean walkway stretches before me. The walkway is bedecked with flower petals. As all cameras point towards the walkway, Pandurang leads me along the red carpet. I walk majestically behind him, my head held high. As we reach the end of the walkway,  Pandurang turns around. As I follow him, I see other fellow runners,  walking behind me.

Yes, you guessed it right. We are the models on a rampwalk, not seen before in these parts of India. But as they say, there’s always the first time and soon I am declared the winner of the rampwalk competition.

Pandurang is ecstatic with my win, especially since it has fetched him a handsome reward of Rs. 50,000/-

 

Friends, that’s how the annual cattle races were successfully converted to online rampwalk where the bulls walked and everyone enjoyed the gathering online, without crowding at the races, like every year. The  bull owners too were satisfied, especially given the fact that they take these annual races seriously, where preparations start atleast three months in advance.

And what about the bulls, you ask? Well, they moo’ed their way to online glory, without breaking into a sweat.

Yatindra Tawde

Picture credit- Anand Thakur and unsplash.com

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

Ig Nobel

As you all must be knowing, in agricultural fields across India, cattle manure is used as a fertiliser.

Till recently, the cost of one truck manure was about Rs. 1500/-, which today costs about Rs. 7000/-. Why did this happen? What caused this steep increase? Is the cattle population going down? Or the reason is something else?

The Chief Minister of one state of India has decided to get to the root of the problem. He has instructed all his babus in his state to feed him data. And what is the data?

Conduct census of all the cattle population in the state.

Though a difficult task, the babus got down to business. They made all the plans to visit each village household, each Tabela, et al to get the number of cattle and update their boss.

But the next instruction of their boss, made them sweat. And smell!! Why? They were expected to not only count the cattle but also to measure their valued dung, discharged by the Cattle!

The reason, allegedly, was that the boss, wanted to know whether the supply has gone dry or whether the middle men were hoarding the dung.

Though I fail to understand, in which smelly room, was the dung being hoarded. The babus were really stumped with this quixotic requirement.

Let me try to help the babus in achieving their aim, which is to measure the valuable discharge. Here goes…

1) Give data sheets to owners of cattle to do the dirty measurement, which should be submitted in government offices, every week. And as a motivation to the owners, dole out free gloves and weighing scales…
2) Entrepreneurs to manufacture intelligently designed diapers for the cattle. The diapers to be very spacious to hold the valuable contents, which can then be weighed easily. Won’t be surprised if the entrepreneurs turn out to be part of the family of the babus.
3) But if anyone  doesn’t want to touch the discharge, here’s another solution- weigh the cattle before and after their discharge. The difference in weight, is the weight of the discharge.

So there, I have finished with my contribution to a noble cause. I am sure, the Indian agriculturist will be greatly benefited by my contribution and I am nominated for the next Ig Nobel prize.

With tongue firmly in cheek.

Yatindra Tawde

The Ig Nobel Prizee

As you all must be knowing, in agricultural fields across India, cattle manure is used as a fertiliser. Till recently, the cost of one truck manure was about Rs. 1500/-, which today costs about Rs. 7000/-. Why did this happen? What caused this steep increase? Is the cattle population going down? Or the reason is something else?

The Chief Minister of one state of India has decided to get to the root of the problem. He has instructed all his babus in his state to feed him data. And what is the data? Conduct census of all the cattle population in the state. Though a difficult task, the babus got down to business. They made all the plans to visit each village household, each Tabela, et al to get the number of cattle and update their boss. But the next instruction of their boss, made them sweat. And smell!! Why? They were expected to not only count the cattle but also to measure their valued dung, discharged by the Cattle! The reason, allegedly, was that the boss, wanted to know whether the supply has gone dry or whether the middle men were hoarding the dung. Though I fail to understand, in which smelly room, was the dung being hoarded. The babus were really stumped with this quixotic requirement.

Let me try to help the babus in achieving their aim, which is to measure the valuable discharge. Here goes…

1) Give data sheets to owners of cattle to do the dirty measurement, which should be submitted in government offices, every week. And as a motivation to the owners, dole out free gloves and weighing scales…
2) Entrepreneurs to manufacture intelligently designed diapers for the cattle. The diapers to be very spacious to hold the valuable contents, which can then be weighed easily. Won’t be surprised if the entrepreneurs turn out to be part of the family of the babus.
3) But if no one doesn’t want to touch the discharge, here’s another solution- weigh the cattle before and after their discharge. The difference in weight, is the weight of the discharge.

So there, I have finished with my contribution to a noble cause. I am sure, the Indian agriculturist will be greatly benefited by my contribution and I am nominated for the next Ig Nobel prize.

With tongue firmly in cheek.

Yatindra Tawde,Nobel,n