“Coalitions can save lives,” the big sheep with a broken horn said as it contemplatively chewed a mouthful of grass, “At least they saved mine so I think coalitions aren’t bad. Not always!” The big sheep with the broken horn was talking to Setha, Haji saheb’s servant. If you find it silly or strange that a sheep was talking to a human being I wouldn’t blame you. I do understand that this is pretty unusual but then if you knew Setha you would find it neither silly nor strange.
Haji saheb or Azeez Ganaiy as he is less formally known as is a well known Kothedaar (wholesale mutton supplier) who probably supplies mutton to half of the city. Setha has always been with Haji saheb so much so that now nobody remembers how or when he appeared on the scene. In fact the children of the family think that he is sheep-born! The assumption doesn’t seem all that far-fetched too. You see Setha has spent all his life working in the barracks that serve as a transition camp for sheep bought by Haji saheb for supplying to the butchers.
A small room called Ghaan (cowshed) adjoining the barracks serves as the living quarters for Setha (The room used to house cows in remote times and retains its name from those times). Setha’s living style as well as the condition of his living quarters is not much different from the barracks housing the sheep. In fact he himself is not all that different from his charges, the sheep that is. He has little human contact, the fact that he smells strongly like sheep restricts his access to Haji saheb’s house and the other servants too give him a wide berth.
Not only does feeding the sheep, cleaning them and taking care of them occupy almost all of Setha’s waking hours he also spends his leisure time with them having nowhere else to go.
In short if you remember Mowgli from Jungle Book, Setha is just like that, only whereas Mowgli had developed a kinship with wolves in Setha’s case it is the sheep. From his childhood he has been in the habit of talking to the sheep and it was not long before they started responding to him and sharing gossip with him. It is a routine thing as I am sure you too can understand now.
The frequent closure of the Jammu-Srinagar highway had completely stopped the supply of sheep and Setha had been finding time hanging heavy on his hands.
He had never felt so lonely and morose. So when a truckload of sheep finally arrived there he was whistling cheerfully, back to work and back among his friends and savouring every moment of it.
Taking a brief rest he started talking to this big sheep with a broken horn. They talked about politics, weather and places and they talked about the Jammu-Srinagar highway, and about being stuck on this highway.
The big sheep with a broken horn related its experiences, “You see I had almost resigned myself to an ignominious death due to starvation, some sheep were already dead and more were dying.
Then one day Wousta our truck driver got us out of the truck so that we could stretch our legs. There was another truck which was laden with vegetables and as we got near it the cleaner threw off some of the rotting vegetables. Some of us leaped and finished the bunch in no time. The truck driver boxed the cleaner’s ears and gave him quite a scolding for throwing away the vegetables.
Our Wousta who was seeing this went up to the truck driver and the two discussed something. Later we came to know that the two had cobbled up a coalition after talking to the respective owners of the truckloads with everybody agreeing to share the profits. The truckload of rotting vegetables was thus put at our disposal and we were saved from starvation!”
“Oh that was lucky! You mean you got to eat a wholetruckload of vegetables?” Setha said.
“Well actually we were just halfway through it when the road cleared and we got moving again. It was lucky otherwise all of us would have died of starvation,” the sheep with the broken horn said, “Nineteen sheep died, my best friend among them.
What a way to die! I was afraid that Wousta would throw out the dead sheep and they would be eaten by dogs but the kind man carried them along with us. Everything went fine till we reached this check post. Some sour-faced officials checked the truck and gave hell to Wousta.
A rumour started going around that the dead sheep would be thrown out now but then a miracle happened. Wousta went along with these officials and when they returned a while later the officials were no longer sour-faced but jolly and they seemed to be quite pally with Wousta. Maybe they suddenly discovered that they were relatives or something.”
“No,” Setha said with a laugh, “It must have been yetanother hurriedly stitched up coalition.”
“Well maybe but there we were again moving towards ourdestination, our deceased friends still with us. I wonder what happened to themafter we reached here. What a waste! I hope their souls are at peace!” thesheep said with a shudder.
“Don’t worry,” Setha said chewing upon a straw, “Coalitions of the type you witnessed do not come up only on the highway. Let me assure you that your deceased pals ended up as seductive dishes in some of the best hotels around here.
I am sure their souls must be at peace! And in case you are worried about the half truckload of rotting vegetables that didn’t go waste either but is going places as nicely packed bottles of pickle.”
“How nice!” the sheep with the broken horn said with a sighof relief and attacked another sheaf of straw with gusto.
(Truth is mostly unpalatable…but truth cannot be ignored!Here we serve the truth, seasoned with salt and pepper and a dash of sauce(iness!). You can record your burps, belches and indigestion, if any, at snp_ajazbaba@yahoo.com)