Cy(my husband) and I took off to a hill station for the weekend recently. Enjoying the countryside. It’s still cool and fairly green. We stopped on the roadside to buy some fruit. They looked so juicy and inviting. We got talking to the fruit vendor. I asked him his name , he said ,”call me Ramu’! He told us he liked our car and had dreams of owning 1 one day, and so the narration of Ramu kaka’s (ramu uncle; we indians are all related), dreams unfolded.
Ramu kaka a fine man , lived a good simple and uncomplicated life. One day at the village fair he saw some imported cows for sale . He was very impressed by their looks. Having a creative mind he thought if,” I could buy a healthy cow and milk it, I could then make cream, paneer, and maybe even mawa from the rich milk and set up a shop to sell mithai( sweetmeats)”.
Breeding the cows locally would be great too as the quality of milk and supply to the local villagers would increase. This would give employment to many locals as well. He would need land for the cows to graze. The grazing would keep the grass trimmed and Ramu kaka thought he would invest in land that didn’t produce anything but grass for this. The environment would stay clean and green too, along with the industry of milk and dairy that would grow in tandem. Wow this was turning into a brilliant idea indeed! The whole village would benefit.
sweet dreams are made of these
Ramu kaka started the process , he gathered up the funds , and booked the cows. The government authorities were very happy seeing his plans, and nodded and applauded his good intentions. Ramu kaka started to get his approvals , but along the way the babu’s thought, wow, lovely idea, “you will make millions after selling the mawa and the mithai, so please ,”humara muh bhi mitha kar do” (share a taste of the sweetness with us also), so that I may give you permission to start the work”. Ramu kaka reasoned that he needed the approval to buy the cows, the land etc. and probably 5 years later his business would show profits.
Ramu kaka’s file was put aside. And so started his journey to get the stamp of approval. Every office he went to, he had to give a drop of the virtual milk he would milk, sometimes a piece of the sweetmeat he’d make and eventually sell at a high value . Ramu kaka started scaling down his plans as he now needed to factor in the donations from the future sales at the present cost based on profit projections 5 years hence.
From the original plan of 10 cows Ramu decided to start with 5 as now half his funds and energy were lost in seeking approvals which should’ve been free. Time went by governments changed.The new government spoke of growth and non corruption. Ramu kaka’s hope soared , he could almost taste the mithai himself.
Ramu kaka can now look forward to realizing his dream, supported by the new government.
slightly altered dreams now!
But after using up most of his projected profit , from the expected cream, which would come from the milk of his imported , still to purchase cow, based on his pocket presently, he is now the proud owner of 1 tail and 2 non existent horns of the cow.
He hopes to gather some money and slowly purchase the whole cow. Thankfully he has managed to get sole buying rights on most of the cow. 3 udders can be his, if he manages to pay up within the stipulated time frame allotted to him.
Ramu kaka hopes to get a taste of the mithai, he will make from the cow he will eventually purchase, and extract the cream from the milk, he will milk, and maybe even churn some butter.
Ramu kaka now also feels his children should enter politics , it’s the only profession in which one gets to enjoy others’ profits long before their business has actually started , even in cases where it may never even take off. It’s the most profitable 5 year plan one can dream of.
We wished him good luck and hope to 1 day visit a flourishing mithai shop of his. Until such time as sincerity and fair play donot govern Ramu kakas around the country will struggle to set up an honest living.
we’re hearing of it from the news, let’s hear it from the grassroots,
it’s time to clean up . . . .