By Anup Kutty (First published in Newslaundry)
Ever since the Delhi Police bulldozed their way into Kerala House to investigate complaints pertaining to bovine activities, I’ve had a flurry of calls asking for The Toddy Shop’s stand on cows.
I have to make it clear that The Toddy Shop does not serve cows. I’d advise other establishments to do the same. They are nothing but trouble. They walk in looking all war-torn with their big dark pitiful eyes like Brahminical entities that’ve seen better days. As if they were part of a displaced dynasty ravaged by years of decadence and ignorance.
But all they really want is a meal, even an empty doggy bag would do. You feed them and wish them luck. They don’t have the money to pay you but they could perhaps give you some milk. It can cure diabetes, they claim. You politely decline and ask them to leave. But they look at you like your mother does when you tell her to leave you alone. You feed them some more polythene hoping that would get rid of them. Instead, they piss around the place. They tell you their urine is a disinfectant and can even cure cancer. Perhaps you could explore the idea of bottling and selling it.
You tell the milchers that they should go back to where they belong. But they’ve already multiplied. They have grown in numbers and have little calves standing around looking at you from the corner of their suspicious eyes. You try to play with them but they run away like the ungrateful wretches they are.
our customers start complaining about all the dung they have to avoid stepping on. Some threaten to post about it on Zomato. Some actually do. You try saying this to the cows but they tell you that it cures pimples and you could plaster it on your walls to escape nuclear radiation. You call bullshit and refuse to budge till all the cows go home. But they’ve already launched a start-up selling bottled urine and milk and packaged dung to your customers. You notice that your clients are now coming to do business with them.
You can’t take this anymore. You call in the cops. But the beef-brained officer tells you that they are protected by the Constitution. He says he will help you if you help him.
You watch the cattle chew endless cud as you fumble with your near-empty pockets. You move out and look for greener pastures.
Yes sir, these bossy creatures are nothing but trouble. To protect ourselves, we’ve now installed a signboard that spells it out clearly: “We don’t serve cows!”
So, the next time a cow walks in asking for a beef fry, we point them to the board and ask them to run along.
If they want beef, they can go to Kerala.