At home, it is dinner time. My wife says “I do not see how I can cook without onions”. I tell her that she may have to learn, as the govt wants us to be happy. I narrate to her my conversation with the BJP functionary.
Happy? My foot, she says with vehemence. You sit at home and listen to these politician friends of yours. You come to the market and I will show you how people suffer. So reluctantly, the following morning I trudge behind my wife into the crowded market place. As I watch, an elderly woman, seeks to know the price of onions. “Fifty rupees a kilo”, responds the grocer. The woman bursts into tears as if Selaulim dam has started overflowing notwithstanding the deficit monsoons. My wife turns towards me and with all the wisdom (gained after marriage?) says, now look “you do not have to cut onions to cry, you hear the price and the tears flow”. Tell it to your BJP friends. “And ask them” she adds as an afterthought. “Why have the prices of tomatoes and chillies touched the sky?”
I bid my time until I meet the BJP functionary, and this time in the Court premises. “Forget the onions, what about the price of tomatoes and chillies?” I confront him. “Blame the Portuguese”, he says without batting an eyelid. “You see, neither tomato nor chilly are indigenous to India. The Portuguese introduced them here. They have made us culinary slaves. Why do we need tomatoes and chillies? We were the greatest civilisation on earth before these dubious vegetables tickled our taste buds. It is time we go back to our roots. We expelled the Portuguese and it is time to remove their last vestiges.”
I look at him non pulsed and he sees my discomfiture and volunteers. The El Ninho is responsible for the draught. Do you know what El Ninho means? After an Atal Behari Vajpayee pause, he triumphantly proclaims “it means Christ child. The BJP, I realise knows its onions. And tomatoes. And chillies, too. I slowly walk out of the Court, as my case has been adjourned. I realise “Achhe Din” have also been adjourned. Perhaps sine die.
