It was a day like any other in the life of the residents of a district named madcap… Except for the people of the orange faction. Those individuals were feverish with anxiety, as their leader was to visit that day.
The last three weeks had been spent frantically scouring, renovating and decorating the entire town. The inhabitants of the other green, blue, and neutral factions had also been roped in.
Because, coincidentally, the majoritarian leader of the orange faction also happened to be the elected head of the state where the district was located.
The preparations had been completed. After all, it was a dual “celebration”. In addition to the esteemed leader paying a visit (and hence, providing a chance for the local leadership to pander to his whims and fancies), it was also the day their mythical saviour was born.
Naturally, the entire district had been cleared of its undesirable inhabitants like the poor and the unemployed, who could turn the joyous atmosphere dark and gloomy.
With the danger of unwarranted and unnerving questions being asked thrown out of the way, the District Magistrate (DM) and the mayor of the town began waiting with bated breaths for the clock to strike at 3:30.
The Residents Of Madcap Were Excited
The streets had become almost sentient with speculations about what wonderful schemes the much-enlightened leader would unveil. One such street was Sukh Nagar, which unlike its name, was a street, and exactly like its name, was a particularly harmonious place.
The inhabitants of this street were slightly more anxious than the rest of the district. Situated not more than 300 meters away from an extremely hallowed temple of the orange faction, it constituted a slightly different demographic than the rest of the district.
While most of the district constituted the orange faction, with green and blue in minority, Sukh Nagar was one of the few areas where the green faction’s presence loomed larger.
Near a market on the outskirts of Sukh Nagar, two shopkeepers noticed a lull in their customers and started discussing the potential schemes the leader might roll out.
Achar Singh, a confectionary owner, while handing a 12-year-old a bunch of eggs, pointed out that maybe, the leader might lay the foundation of a new university (he had a son who was preparing for entrance exams).
Riyaz Sheikh, who was rather disgruntled due to the lack of demand in meat on an auspicious occasion, exclaimed that the current economic scheme of the governments wasn’t that people-friendly also pointing out the general lack of good governance and the mostly fake communal charges that had been laid on his faction last year.
Gopal Charan, a milkman who was passing by, halted his cheery singing upon hearing their conversation. He was about to point out something he felt was excessively important, but he was suddenly interrupted by a loud noise.
As all curious and bored people are bound to do, they dutifully rushed to the scene of action. It turned out that a biker had skidded off the road after landing in a pothole. He had been trying to steer his bike away from the bullheaded cow who refused to move.
On seeing such an incident, suddenly the only thing that could be noticed in the eyes of our three characters was contempt towards such stray cattle, hence all of them began vehemently talking and agreeing that the topmost priority must be the redressal of such issues, otherwise their lives shall continue being a living hell, courtesy of stray cattle.
The two shopkeepers and Gopal reached their respective shops and bicycle. They continued relegating their instances of near saves with death due to other such unholy works of the devil-like potholes.
The Leader Arrives At Much Pomp And Show
After inaugurating the festive celebrations, visiting temples and praising the Lord, there came the decisive moment where the leader was supposed to make concessions towards the district’s residents and praise them for their wonderful behaviour.
The mayor and the DM both, with their gleaming eyes, craned their necks, sucked in their breaths and heard the melodious voice proclaim: “The ban of liquor, meat and eggs in a radius of 10 km around the most auspicious site.”
The audience being an intelligent one, dutifully clapped and cheered. Their hopes and expectations had been dashed. Here they were left all high and dry without any new college or hospital. The collective voice rose:
“Oh, but why was life so cruel? Had they not spent weeks decorating and renovating? Had they not been worthy subjects? Oh, but the tantalising fate! What was to be done now?”
What Happened Next?
The police chief of the district announced that the order was to be carried out immediately once they received a signed copy of the proclamation. The people were shocked. What were they to do now, though Akash Kumar, a resident of Sukh Nagar?
He had calculated how much it would cost him now that he won’t be able to purchase meat from nearby Riyaz bhai jaan’s shop. The petrol required to commute 10kms itself would double the price of meat.
Shweta Kumari, on the other hand, was wondering where she would get cheap eggs from. Her brother was sick and the doctor had said that eggs were extremely vital to his recovery. It would be quite impossible for her to commute 20 kms on her bicycle and a one-way auto journey would take ₹50 in itself.
Gopal was the most worried among everyone. You see, dear readers, he was a milkman and the leader had proclaimed in his speech that all displaced by the recent ban would be relocated in the milk and dairy business.
Gopal, who while not being a good student of economics, had been in the business for years and he knew that realistically the locality could sustain only a limited number of milk vendors. After all, wasn’t that the major reason he used to cycle all the way to the town to sell milk.
The demand being the limited entry of new players in the same playing field would mean that everybody losing business.
As he reached Sukh Nagar, he was startled out of his musings by a huge gathering. later, it was revealed that the green faction, as a whole, had decided to move to the court for justice. Some liquor vendors were supporting them.
They all felt that it was high time the threat of loss of livelihood, vigilante justice and forceful changing of eating habits be addressed.
Gopal instantly overjoyed by this swore to offer a ₹21 prasad at a nearby Hanuman temple if Riyaz bhai managed to win the case.
Days passed. A few weeks later, he found Riyaz sorting through ownership papers of the shop. Further investigation led him to realise that Riyaz was thinking about selling the shop as he had heard the fate of the two youths suspected of selling meat in the nearby town of Raga, which had no restrictions at all.
“Imagine what they could do to me or worse, my family! No, no, I would rather work as a labourer than be dead.” Gopal had nothing to say to it. Indeed, what words could you use to counter the viral video featuring the two youths from Raga, he had seen last night?
All he could do was think that maybe he should have offered ₹1,001 instead of ₹21. Maybe then, his friend would have been in business and his own milk business would not have been threatened.
Maybe, then it would have all turned out fine.
Featured image is for representational purposes only. Photo credit: Adam Cohn, Flickr.
Note: The author is part of the current batch of the Writer’s Training Program.