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Monday, February 14, 2005
Who can stop a rose?
So how has your Valentine's Day been so far? I was watching a Valentine's Day special yesterday on the TV channel, Aaj Tak, in which one of the stories was about how Bajrang Dal activists in Bhopal, protesting against the defilement of Indian culture by the concept of such a day, were practising what appeared to be some strange sort of martial art, wielding huge sticks with which they hit huge sticks held by their fellows, as if it was Dandiya Raas on Viagra. No such thing.
"We have made 16 teams of 25 people each," one of them told the correspondent. "We will fan out into different areas of the city, and we will look for couples celebrating Valentine's Day. We will explain to them the folly of their ways ... in whatever language they understand." [This was said in Hindi, and I translate from memory, not transcript. But this was the gist of it.]
I've been trying since to imagine how exactly such a scene would play itself out. Maybe like this: Rinku, anxious young man, goes to neighbourhood Udipi joint to hand over a red rose to Pinky. Suddenly, 25 guys with sticks, who saw Rinku with the rose and followed him furtively, rush into the restaurant just as he reaches Pinky, and catch him, as it were, rose-handed.
"This is against our culture," the group leader says to him. "Say sorry and do 50 squats right away." [Don't gawk. Last year some "guardians of Indian culture" made couples do utthak-baitthaks in a similar manner.]
"But why?" asks cherubic Rinku. "What have I done?"
"You are celebrating Valentine's day," yells the group leader, the lotus tattoo on his chin starting to turn red with his rage. "How dare you give rose to girl?"
"This is our study matter," says Rinku. "We are students of bioengineering, and we have created a rose that smells just like a potato. This is a breakthrough in science, and we have been working at it for two years now. I had rushed here to show it to her. Here, smell it."
He hands over the rose, one by one the men smell it. "Yes," admits the group leader, "this does smell like a potato. What an amazing rose."
"It is, isn't it," chimes in Pinky. "And you know what's even more amazing? It has zero carb content. Oh, Rinku, you are a genius." She reaches out to Rinku, holds his neck tenderly, pulls him to her, and kisses him.
And, one by one, all the 25 men who smelt the rose-with-potato-smell fall to the floor, unconscious.
"We have made 16 teams of 25 people each," one of them told the correspondent. "We will fan out into different areas of the city, and we will look for couples celebrating Valentine's Day. We will explain to them the folly of their ways ... in whatever language they understand." [This was said in Hindi, and I translate from memory, not transcript. But this was the gist of it.]
I've been trying since to imagine how exactly such a scene would play itself out. Maybe like this: Rinku, anxious young man, goes to neighbourhood Udipi joint to hand over a red rose to Pinky. Suddenly, 25 guys with sticks, who saw Rinku with the rose and followed him furtively, rush into the restaurant just as he reaches Pinky, and catch him, as it were, rose-handed.
"This is against our culture," the group leader says to him. "Say sorry and do 50 squats right away." [Don't gawk. Last year some "guardians of Indian culture" made couples do utthak-baitthaks in a similar manner.]
"But why?" asks cherubic Rinku. "What have I done?"
"You are celebrating Valentine's day," yells the group leader, the lotus tattoo on his chin starting to turn red with his rage. "How dare you give rose to girl?"
"This is our study matter," says Rinku. "We are students of bioengineering, and we have created a rose that smells just like a potato. This is a breakthrough in science, and we have been working at it for two years now. I had rushed here to show it to her. Here, smell it."
He hands over the rose, one by one the men smell it. "Yes," admits the group leader, "this does smell like a potato. What an amazing rose."
"It is, isn't it," chimes in Pinky. "And you know what's even more amazing? It has zero carb content. Oh, Rinku, you are a genius." She reaches out to Rinku, holds his neck tenderly, pulls him to her, and kisses him.
And, one by one, all the 25 men who smelt the rose-with-potato-smell fall to the floor, unconscious.
