The recent news that Brazilian semen is going to be imported in large quantities to inseminate our cows has left me somewhat despondent.
Sigh. This is hard. Coming, as it does, in the wake of many of my patriotic overseas kin slowly but steadily admitting defeat back home (the West, I mean), and permitting their offspring to cohabit with non- desi , non- sanskari , caste-incompliant mates of all hues. And witnessing the heartbreaking spectacle of their videsh -manufactured grandspring giving them a Bronx cheer when Bharatanatyam class is mentioned.
The cautionary words of role model, visionary leader, former animal husbandry and dairy minister of Haryana, Om Prakash Dhankar, come to mind.
When rampant bulls were running amok in Haryana, impregnating not just cows but, apparently, buffaloes , too, way back in 2016, it was Dhankar ji who put it in perspective.
He came out strongly against the behaviour, morals and character of these foreign bulls because our own god-fearing and monogamous Indian bulls would rather be caught voting for Nehru than indulging in this kind of sacrilegious cross-pollination.
Explaining the character of the bulls, Dhankar ji then said, “ Jaisa wahan ke kai mulko mein character hai, waisa he inka character hai ” meaning the bulls have the same character as the countries they hail from.
What can we expect from our future generation of calves now, I shudder to think. What if they begin reading José de Alencar and Cora Coralina instead of Amar Chitra Katha and Kangana Ranaut’s quotes? What if they develop a taste for vatapá and, heaven forbid, cachaça, instead of poha and thandai , our national dish and beverage? And when they hear the sound of the murali , what if they break into a sinuous Samba routine when elders are present? It is all going to be rather awkward, to say the least.
Yes, there is the possibility of diluting the evil influence of the Brazilian gene by placing a tape recorder playing Alok Nath’s lectures next to the expectant cow’s distended belly. It was a technique used in our epics, remember? But that would require a lot of tape recorders and even more cassette tapes. Which may not be such a bad thing, after all, because we do have a large, ever-growing workforce with time on its hands. And its members could do this on the side when not making pakoras .
Option two would be to study Justice Mahesh Chandra Sharma’s peacock tear immaculate reproduction method thoroughly, double-checking with Biplab Deb ji just to be on the safe side, and using said technology to produce our own ready-to-use pristine swadeshi bull tears. What’s good for the goose is good for the gander, they say. Or in this case, what’s good for the cock ought be good for the bull.
You know, I just yearn for the simple old days. When our cows sang Hindi duets with our bulls and gave us nanhe-munhe shudh desi calves. And, surrounded by verdant fields yielding enough wheat for the whole village, the family would gather in front of the TV and watch Arnab Goswami asking someone to go to Pakistan.
Everything is changing in front of my eyes.
How can the panchagavya of tomorrow have the efficacy of our traditional variety if it is made from the emanations of a cow called Rosalice or Pedrina?
There is one thing, though. How about we come up with an energy drink infused with the imported product, and feed large quantities of it to that emaciated bull in Dalal Street. That might help.
Krishna Shastri Devulapalli is a satirist. He has written four books and edited an anthology.
Illustration credit: Deepak Harchandan
