Noel Ellis's Official Blog

I wield the pen to explore the vastness of the human mind

Category: Nonvegetarian

BLACK SHEEP OF BABA

The BRRSI verdict is going to be out anytime now. Which side the verdict is going to go is quite clear from the bandobast that I see in and around Rohtak. It has been turned into a fortress of kinds. Imagine what difficulties the common man must be facing. More than hundred companies of forces deployed. Army is on standby in case of any eventuality. Dera is being evacuated with streams of followers exiting, most of them ladies that too senior citizens. What were they doing inside intrigues me? What will be their future? Neither BRRSI nor they themselves know.

What was so much of manpower doing inside the camp? They were producing nothing except CO2, H2S and manure. What education was being imparted there, God knows or was he conducting brain-washing sessions? I believe he castrated many men which I heard from testimonies of people who escaped his clutches. Well all this needs to be investigated. I would like to know the status of his real sisters too. Was the motive to have castrated males around his close cordon to save his sisters from the wrath of what he used to do to the other female disciples? Were the sisters aware of his adventures? All this is shrouded in mystery. His bubble has burst and many lives saved.

I am not sure if every follower who is leaving the camp is being properly docketed, their names and addresses etc. How long were they there? What all did they see and do in the dera? I could see that most of them are poor and basically the Punjabi speaking community. I was not aware that there were so many grades in the Punjabi society. Yes, once upon a time mom used to scare us that behave or else Nihang baba will take you away. I happened to visit Beas once as a kid and was quite surprised to see another massive Sikh establishment so close to Amritsar. A breakaway from the main stream I suppose. One was only interested in the tasty subsidised pakoras and langar food in those days. I know of people who turned vegetarians, non smokers and drinkers as they were going to take “Naam”. One never questioned that, as that was beyond my purview of things and still is. For me a Punjabi was a friend and jiggrey yaar, which sect, which guru he followed made no difference to me.

I have been explaining to people the difference between Catholics and Protestants often. In Protestants there are Methodists etc.  For a normal Indian a Christian is a Christian, that’s it. Similarly for me, a Sikh is a Sikh, a Hindu is a Hindu and a Muslim is a Muslim. To be frank Christianity is the most divided religion on earth today. People have modified the ways of worship that is all. Anyone who could convince a few people, lecture about the goodness and wellness of being close to God, show some spirituality, do some kind of miracle started to have a following. From one mouth to the other, one neighbour to the other and the chain continues. I would say that slowly these babas and babies become so influential that they gave targets as done in ponzy schemes. Besides, the insiders were threatened with dire consequences not to open their mouths. A person who has no other job, who is getting food, shelter, clothing and a safe place to stay with all facilities would rather play safe.

I am reminded that once I had gone to Mount Abu for a holiday with my family. Moment I stepped out of the bus a person approached me and handed me a pamphlet about “Bhramakumari’s”. I politely requested him not to pester me. Next day we took the tourism bus and the first place they plonked us was their ashram. Nice, neat and clean, nothing religious, a few ladies and a few gents dressed in whites were moving around. Then we were made to sit and listen to their story. Well, I was not impressed or interested in it at all. It was rather a pain to wait for the thing to get over as we were more interested in site seeing. Moment we came out, again a person approached me and asked me when you are joining the thing; I got cheesed off and told him to buzz off. I moved on and enjoyed the rest of the day culminating at the sunset point. I am not sure what those ladies follow or preach but I do not appreciate being indoctrinated into anything forcefully.

Well what I gather from the social media is that when one is oppressed that is the time when one is most susceptible and vulnerable to be carried away. Moment one finds solace, one tends to drift away under the wings of such frauds who promise peace of mind. Moment one starts believing in it you are done. The baba who gave you comfort latches on to your mind and exploits you, once you give in you are gone and there is no turning back. Thereafter, one cannot stand anything derogatory against the guru. Had this issue been nipped in the bud in 2007, things would not have taken such a drastic turn.

My only wish is that this man should be charged with treason. Every inch of his land and property anywhere in India should be sold off and all the losses made up. Let there be a law that any cult, any baba, any baby, any maa who thinks that politicians can be put in their pocket would be put in the clink. I also want to inform all politicians, dare you become black sheep of any of these God men and women for your political gains and donate even one paai of my had earned money from public fund to them, then you too should be booked for treason and impropriety. Will it make any difference to these baba’s and their black sheep, I wonder!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

FAUJ KA RATION AUR MODIJI KA BHASHAN

Today the social media circuit of the fauji kind is full of “Ration pe Bhashan”. What all rations will discontinue in what all military stations is matter of grave concern I suppose. Most of the officers are worried about their bai’s running away, for obvious reasons. I can vouch for it that my free rations were the biggest spoiler of our maid’s figure. Well, rice we didn’t eat. Bread was given in lieu of atta. Oil was toooo refined. Butter was not good for health said the doc. Daal’s were too stony. Cheese, we kept begging the supply depots yaar pleeease give us a reason to say cheese. Ek Murgi ke saath do anda used to come free as so called chicken used to be a yucky “egg layer” and not “broiler”. Meat was always malnourished and injected with water. Bhindi used to reach us as bhindi dry. Potatoes could go straight to the pot as they were automatically peeled in transit. Gobi was mostly fired. Palak came to us as squashed soup and so on. This I am talking of a decade back of the condition of our wonderful rations. Today, my ASC friends might take offence to it but never mind.

The other issue which bothered me was that fresh rations were collected for a week, so rivers of milk used to flow as minimum seven packets had to be collected. One could now make paneer, kheer or curds choice was yours. In summers by the time the milk from the military farms (MF) reached us it was mostly curdled. The fat percentage used to be just above the threshold of the minimum required to call it milk, balance used to be SNF (solid not fat) a term I picked up as DQ, notwithstanding the water content. Our child refused to drink the MF milk as it used to taste “different” from the pure cow’s milk we could get from the civil.

I remember I was deployed in the outskirts of Srinagar valley and my post was a four hour walk from the road head. Imagine the plight of chickens as they would have travelled many kilometres to reach our admin base. By the time they used to reach my post most of them were dead. My Senior JCO suggested that Sir let us send a chicken detachment (det) to the base. I asked for what, he said sir; they will cut and clean them before they died. As I was a pure man eater kind found logic in his wisdom and sent a det from the company HQ who’s only job used to be cutting chicken, plucking chicken feathers and sending them up as dressed chicken. My boys used to hang 10 chickens each on a bamboo with their necks blobbing up and down as they travelled up to the post. What a sight!

Then we had an MOH category (Meat on Hoof). The sheep and goats of Rajasthan used to travel more than 500 miles away from home to reach the base. They used to go mad on setting hoof on terra-ferma. From deserts to my post they used to go berserk eating the green-green grass of the greenest pastures. All the starving they had done while travelling in military vehicles used to be made up by eating anything green including our dress. Notwithstanding that within a week they used to grow fat and were sent up through the half link patrol. My anxiousness used to keep increasing with every passing hour when this patrol used to get delayed. On reaching the post I used to find at least two boys almost fainting, reason used to be that they had to carry the damn sheep on their shoulders because they refused to walk in this altitude and mountainous conditions. Worst is that most of them caught a cold on arrival. While inspecting them one could see the long greenish squishy liquid oozing out of their noses. I used to call the nursing assistant and tell him to give a few “paracetamols’ each for one week and report back when their noses were nice and shiny having acclimatised with cold conditions and altitude. Then only they were ready to feast on. Meat and rum issue was ultimate.

In high altitude one got used to tinned rations. Given a choice the companies would tin anything that moved. We had tinned tuna, meat and chicken in all forms, all fruits including some I had never heard the names of, in sweet sticky syrup. Then there used to be lot of this dry stuff. Dry and dehydrated onions, garlic, ginger, tomatoes, even egg powder. With egg powder we used to make tons of bujia for the whole company in the mornings. Beans never used to cook even after two days in a pressure cooker. Milk powder was used as “choona” to mark the volley ball court or make gulab jamuns. Dry fruits, no one cared to eat as they gave a bad rumbling tummy. Of course, how can I forget Milk Maid, the best of thing we used to enjoy! Condensed milk was the only reason to fight with my wife when she had joined me at Lukung post (Pangongtso) many many moons back.

Well, the last ten years I never had a chance to crib for what I ate, as I ate what I bought. I do not know is it psychological to say that the army rations were not good. I remember my wife being a good baker and used to make excellent cakes out of the tray of eggs we used to keep getting off and on, as I had declared myself a vegetarian as far as the free fauji rations were concerned. The extra milk always came in handy for puddings which are now off my menu as sugar is catching up but give me tipsy, I shall break all rules and to hell with sugar.

So my dear fauji folks, you guys may have to survive on “Maggie” of the Ramdev kind in peace stations. The calculations of ration allowance with the taxes being cut at source due to the implementation of the GST would be good enough to get half a plate of Gol Guppas per week. The issue is when you get rations you crib, now that you won’t get rations there is more to crib about. This will help all of us to take care of the indigestion which is going to be a fall out of the free ration ban.

Modi ji ka lamba bhashan aur fauj ka tagra ration (Modiji’s long speech and army’s strong ration) have no meaning whatsoever, sab dikhava (all show biz). As the saying goes, atta bhi mehnga, chini bhi mehengi, mehanga har saman, fir bhi mera Bharat Mahan. Achhe din kab ayenge? I wonder!!!!!!!!!!!!!

JAANE KYA TUNE KAHI

I just happened to flick channels the other day and saw one Brigadier of the Pakistan Army whispering something in the ear of Mr Nawaz Sharif in the SCO meeting while the latter was delivering his speech. It reminded me of the hindi song “JAANE KYA TUNE KAHI, JANE KYA MAINE SUNI” (I don’t know what you said and I don’t know what I heard). I think it became a matter of conjecture for the media that what must he have whispered that the PM had to pull out his ear plug from the left ear and listen to the Brigadier from the right one. During the process, why did Nawaz Sharif raise his eye brows as if something big might have happened back home? Well, there could be many theories on the issue, so let me also speculate a few matters of National importance for the Military Secretary (MS) to whisper in the PMs ear in the middle of an address.

I kept scratching my head and am sharing a few, that sir your favourite bitch has littered, or your SUV has been stolen, or sir tuhadi MAJH suu gayi hai (your buffalo has given birth to a JHOTA or calf). Well, I think this is too much reading between the lines. Then I pondered that would this whisper be to say that Pakistan has launched 100 terrorists from POK. Well, that is a routine that Pakistan has adopted and is facing the music the way Indian Army has unleashed its intolerance to terrorism and cease-fire violations recently.

There are a few more shockers that the Brigadier could have given him. One was that sir WAPDA (Water and Power Development Authority of Pakistan) has just intimated that electricity has come to the PMs Residence. The frown on Nawaz Sharif’s face clearly showed that kind of surprise that is it possible? Another thing which the Brigadier may have whispered in his ears that madam has just whatsapped that the water in the main Tanki has finished. The frown was justified because he had made the irrigation minister personally responsible to keep Madam Sharif well bathed in his absence. He later realised that madam was accompanying him then who the hell is this new “begum” sending messages from his bathroom to his MS.

I think matters would be more serious than this. Oh yes, it is our national problem too. Madam could have sent a message that today the Bai has not come. All heavens would have broken lose in Pakistan because PMs Bai is absent. The whole of MS branch must be busy posting one as replacement. Following this another bai would have messaged the Brigadier that what would the PM like to have for dinner, “Bharwan-Bhindi” or “vegetarian Biryani? I heard he is a vegetarian. For which the MS would have to interrupt the speech so that he could intimate her keeping the duration of flight and the time the Dum Biryani would require cooking. The worst news could be that now after the Panama leaks the Suez leaks have been revealed to the world in which some person called Nawaz Sharif is the main accused. Or was it that the PM is no more the PM as General Javed Bajwa has taken over because he too is fed up of power cuts and every time a presentation on Indian Army is given to him the bloody lights go off. Well it all boils down to, jane kya tune kahi?

One of the news readers pointed out that the MS came to tell the PM that transport to depart to the airport is ready. How ridiculous can ridiculous be? PM wants a Brigadier to keep him informed about his transport. What a luxury it is! Then I kept thinking what was his Military Secretary doing in a conference which has got to do with nothing military in the first place. A very powerful leader of a country with a mighty military called China did not have his personal body guards so to say and here Nawaz Sharif has a Brigadier doing his transport coordinator. I am impressed.

On a serious note, I was also thinking that the urgency to inform the PM right in the middle was to tell him in those 19 seconds that Sir Cdr Kulbhushan Yadav has escaped from our custody and is in Indian hands. Our game is up; transport is waiting outside, let us run moment you finish before the Indian PM tears us apart.  You may like to make a statement against India now and then let us scoot. Well, my conjecturing and guessing can have no end nor will the news debates stop discussing it. This mystery can only be solved by the two people involved and no one else. I shall wait for the confessions in a book.

I think I should leave it there as it cannot be a Brigadier coordinating transport for the PM at an international meeting in any case. Let them play the game of “Chinese whispers” the Pakistani khus-phus way? I can understand that these Pakis can only speak in whispers when Indian PM is present, so why are we interested in their whispering affairs, I wonder!!!!!!!!

WHO CARES FOR MOM

Today it is shutters down for the milkmen and the sabziwalas of Maharashtra. The Bhindi which was selling at 20 bucks a kg has shot up to 80. Thank God I had picked up a big 50 kg bori of onions so at least my dal will have a tarka but rest of the vegetables and milk prices have sky rocketed. My milkman has gone out of coverage area. Even after repeated calls one gets to hear the same recorded message. I am sure he needs to sell milk but he is under pressure if he carries those two small little dolus to our place. Drain cocks of milk vans have been opened on the roads so let us no more cry over spilt milk. Doodh ki nadiyan (rivers of milk) were bahoing literally. Any vendor trying to sneak in with veges was also being targeted. Well, I do not see anything but vegetarian in milk and vegetables. Then why are we creating such a hullabaloo. Well friends of all the things it is the cow, leather and beef responsible.

 

For things non vegetarian, the vegetarians are going to suffer. People like me will still continue to relish fish and chicken but what are the vegetarians going to eat if this agitation continues. Reason is a self created save the cow policy. We still have not moved from the middle ages of guy hamari mata hai. So let mom be mom and she needs to be respected irrespective whether the poor man dies without his basic needs of food. Let the children be deprived of the milk they deserve. Let the cobbler use plastic and ragzine to mend your shoes, let the “mothers” roam on the road and be hit by trucks and cars. Let mothers eat the poly bags lying on the streets. Let us Indians suffer at the hands of another kind of extremism. Let us have an independent state of “guyistaan”. Like the ISIS now we have footprints of GRIS (Gow Rakshaks of Indian State) creating mayhem.

 

Is all this making any sense to anyone? Can a country whose PM is visiting countries which eat beef as their staple diet be boycotted to protest against their anti India feelings? When something happens to an animal whom I consider to be my mother shouldn’t India go to war with them? Shouldn’t India ban all products and produce of that nation? Shouldn’t India take this matter up with the UN or ask for a Cow protection force to monitor atrocities on cows. Shouldn’t India ask for aid from all countries who support us with green grass, fodder and cattle feed for the millions of cows that it has to look after. Shouldn’t India ban the “vilaayati-mem” so to say and let the desi-gai be the only one acceptable to give milk. Aren’t we spoiling our culture by bringing western sabhyata to the Indian soil by importing all the Holstein and Jersey cows from all over the place? It is shameful that such cows roam freely with such huge udders that it gives a complex to the Indian cows.

 

In some states of India cow is not considered anything but an animal. Biology says it is an animal, the world says it is an animal. It looks to me like an animal, then why suddenly everyone has to start quoting the constitution of India what it says about the cow. Till the time we don’t develop our mental faculties this won’t change. Till the time we don’t change to a modern outlook this shall continue. Till the time we have sadus and sadvis calling the shots we will have issues. The politicians shall continue to exploit sentiments. I ask is it acceptable to produce five to ten litres of milk from a desi cow instead of 40-60 litres from a foreign cow a day. Is it fine to have 150 kgs of beef rather than having 300 kgs from an imported animal? Will it be better to produce 10 litres of urine or have 25kgs of dung per cow per day? Or will it be more useful to have 15-20 litres of urine and 40-50 kgs of dung per day? Will it be ok to have 4 square meters of hide per cow or 8-10 sq meters? Well if the quality of all the stuff the Indian cow is producing is 200 times better than the foreign cows then it should be considered to breed our own indigenous ones only. However, when we need to feed so many mouths, let us be practical. Milk and a cheap meal is a basic necessity today.

 

I am definitively not suggesting that our own breeds be wiped out. They need to be preserved. I would rather suggest that let us have some method in this cow madness. The disease of cow vigilantism is spreading like the mad cow disease, which needs to be curbed and stopped with immediate effect. The industries linked to the cows also need to be safeguarded. If we link it to religion we shall go nowhere. A farmer cannot afford to hold on to lame or sick animal. The farmer cannot feed them or afford the medicines when the animal is ill. Government today cannot look after its humans so looking after its numerous free roaming mothers is farfetched.

 

Well, we Indians are very Hippocratic about everything. Till the time it doesn’t affect us, we have no issues. We also are very fanatic as far as religious ideology is concerned. We start quoting the constitution when we want to otherwise do not even know the contents of that document. We are pseudo as far as culture is concerned; we want to preserve the traditional values but with a modern outlook. We will watch porn, but will not allow lovers to kiss in public. We are pretentious when it comes to our sensitivities. We can fake our feelings to hurt other people. We want to portray our country as a superpower as we launch rockets with satellites but cannot portray it beyond snake charming and the great Indian rope trick. Well we are a bogus kind of people, because we do not have either our aim clear or our priorities right. We the people, if don’t act intellectually, we shall definitely lose all of them to this dirty politics over cows. We need to free it from disease, ill health, ill treatment, neglect, and sheer useless vigilantism.

 

I hope in my India we can breathe freely, drink freely, wear freely, watch freely, live freely, speak freely, read freely, eat freely, follow our religions freely, travel freely and above all be free from all religious and political hatred. Till the time we let ourselves be manipulated by the politicians, neither will mother cow be looked after nor will this country progress. When will all this madness end? I wonder!!!!!!!!!

🇮🇳 JAI HIND 🇮🇳

TO EAT OR NOT TO EAT

On hearing the ban on butcheries in UP I was reminded of a friend of mine who used to strictly follow “Mar jana par daliya nahi khana”. I used to love this phrase which means I shall die but not eat porridge. Well, it is simple, such guys are pure non-vegetarians. I fall in the same category too. Now my vegetarian friends can cry hoarse about everything available in ghaas-phoos and paneer category, it is going to fall on deaf ears. They can scare me with the cholesterol, BP and affiliated diseases but they can forget it. I have tried eating everything on earth so I shall stick to what I love to eat.

I was brought up in a “Shikari” family and it used to be mutton, chicken, fish, rabbit, pork and shikar sometimes. If nothing else then it used to be Anda-Curry, as eggs were abundantly available due to the small little poultry we had at home. The best used to be any rooster doing “cock-a-doodle-do” at any odd time of the day especially disturbing dad during his afternoon siesta was in the pot in the evening. The freezer of the fridge was always stocked with fish. Big sized fish used to be pickled by mom. How can I ever forget that mouth watering taste?

By the way I was a vegetarian throughout NDA. In NDA someone briefed us wrong, that one gets to eat more on the vegetarian table. Someone said that ragging is less on the vegetarian side. Well, my senior Cheetah’s Prithpal, Munish, Sardana, Navneet, Katoch hey guys, thank you for teaching us table manners. Thank you for teaching us as to how to cut the butter piece into half. Thank you for teaching us how to eat a square meal. Thank you for teaching us how to eat soup with a fork, elbows off the table, hands on your lap, keep mum while you chew, swallow whatever you have in your mouth and then answer, how to drink water without that glug-glug-glug sound, how dishes were excused (means you could not eat them even if they were served), how to break bread and chapatti, how to split a toast, which hand, spoon and fork to use for which item. Thank you for giving us privileges for breaking a few slices of bread in the porridge. They also taught us how to chew 32 times (buggers used to count) and the list is endless. The only concession we used to get was exchanging our veg cutlets for eggs. Well, it was only in sixth term I ever had lunch in the mess on Sundays as they served fish. Most of NDA never turned up for lunch.

Mom used to be very particular when I used to get back from NDA on holidays. Bhindi and Aloo were the only things vegetarian I used to tolerate. One morning she gave me the left over non veg gravy of previous night’s dinner and a few fried eggs. I must have chepoed four solid lachhedaar parathas with it and asked for more. She said beta should I make more eggs, I said no give me the vegetable in the pot. She said you won’t eat, I said who says, and told her to make a few more parathas. NDA taught me the value of food. I could eat anything which moved or didn’t move. My mom said beta in the last 17 years this is the first time you have ever eaten karela. I didn’t have a heart to tell her that my appetite is so much that even if she adds poison to this karela I will eat it.

Unit was fun, one could eat whatever, but on non-veg days, I used to be twenty second down the line on the table. So the poor chicken either had only broken wings or mashed necks. Mutton used to be just bones. How hard our waiters Jagjit, Laalu & Gabbar used to try but could never manage a leg for us. In a couple of years I had many juniors so the fight used to be for roti’s then. I remained a vegetarian after getting married as far as fauji rations were concerned. In peace stations meat on hoof and chicken on paws supplied were never up to my liking.

In high altitude eating tinned tuna or dal-tarka made no difference as the smell of your farts and the shrillness in its noise never changed. I got on to catching trout in the Lukung River which falls into Pangang Tso. Lovely times we spent up stream, fresh trout, fresh yak, love and fresh air was the only way to survive. The pinjas made lovely thuppa, a meaty clear soup with noodles. In case they were in the mood then one could get freshly made sausages. Otherwise tinned milk, tinned veges, and tinned fruit soaked in that surgery sticky syrup used to be ultimate. The huge pooris called “phu-amcho” which actually meant and resembled “donkey’s ears” were a substitute for pooris in the morning. I considered them non-veg for obvious reasons. Come evening the fresh catch of the day was my meal.

While in the deserts, I have had 17 meals continuous, breakfast, lunch and dinner of partridges. Dry in the morning, gravy in the afternoon and as snacks with chota-chota in the evening. My .22 & fishing net were standard accessories on my numerous reconnaissance missions. All the lakes, canals and ponds were GPS fixes. Navigation to these places could be done blind folded. Early morning partridge shoots were ultimate. Jonga’s front wind shield down for better visibility, even in coldest of winters and thick fog. Spotters on the lookout, driver trained to halt the vehicle with the right angle to fire. By the time the sun used to be up, we used to have enough in our kitty and on the way back the shoot used to be for the officers of the Unit. Injured animals of the Gujjars and Bakarwals in Srinagar made us dependent on leopard’s daily kill. Most of my boys were from hill tribes, so cooking up a non-veg dish was like making anda bhujia at short notice. Good old days, guys you can’t think of it now.

Now I am in a coastal area, if yogiji will come here and see then he may ban the vegetables also, leave alone the illegal unlicensed butcheries. Here one will find a goat hanging in a straw hut, with a huge tree trunk on stilts with flies humming nosily drowning the sound of chop-chop. The only thing you can ask for here is “pure meat”. Well that doesn’t mean hygienically pure or the rest of the meat is impure but is without much bones and fat.

The only vegetarian thing I enjoy most is “Bhains ka doodh” with the finger thick malai. I am happy I am not is UP and yet to taste Tunde kebabas, so let me keep enjoying varieties of fish which are available here besides all forms of pure and impure meat. I have no dilemma whatsoever that I shall continue to stick to “Mar jana but dalia nahi khana” Any one joining me? I wonder!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén