8 a.m. : Wake up, laze around in bed for some more time. But duty calls. Begin the daily routine with a walk along the bungalow fields which grow grains. My pockets are filled with juicy grains to feed the pigeons. (I am a great admirer of late actor Amrish Puri and feel inspired by his act in Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge.) After sometime, hungry I walk back home. At the breakfast table, I read the papers, switch on the TV news bulletins. The dailies mention the need for a healthy and filling breakfast and who am I to oppose them? So gheefilled ‘aloo paratha’, fat double omelette, fruits, brown bread, cheese and jalebi dripping with ghee and sugar syrup so as to not displease the sugar lobby. I am meeting their delegation later in the day. The TV anchors mention drought in most parts of the state. Oh, not when I am having breakfast. I need some rest before plunging into work.
9 a.m. : Nice cushioned chairs, help the thinking process. How did I become the Agriculture Minister when I do not know anything of the subject? My expertise was Labour Law and calling for strikes and bandhs and I would have preferred the labour or industry ministry. Then I learnt one of the fundamentals of politics. If you have some expertise on some subject you will never get the ministry dealing with that subject. Look at our cabinet. The Foreign Minister had specialised in ‘Unani’ medicine, the Finance Minister was a social reformer who had worked on Jail reforms and the Defence Minister was the new expert on IPL cricket. Such a portfolio distribution prevents the emergence of smart alecs and the Prime Minister can feel safe. I feel quite happy as the Minister of Agriculture.
11 a.m. : Read up important files on foot and mouth disease and artificial insemination of buffaloes from Botswana. I need not know anything about buffaloes from Botswana and their animal husbandry needs. But my secretary informed me that as the Minister for Agriculture and Animal Husbandry, I was to be the chief guest at an international conference. He showed me some nice photographs featuring Botswana women in their native costume (or lack of it!).
12.15 p.m. : Meeting with members of Agriculture Price Commission. Dozed through most of it. Everyone is ready to throw money for the farmers, but what about the consumers? Onion growers from Nashik talked tough. Exhibited their produce which smelt like rotten onions, we all shed tears and conceded their demands not to sell onions till their prices touched Rs. 150 per kg. The onion farmers and hoarders assured me my supply line would not suffer and passed on a fat package which certainly did not contain onions.
1.30 p.m. : Seven course lunch with a fertilizer delegation, all suited and booted, and talking English. But why so much importance to urea, not an ideal topic at lunch. Or did they believe that the late Morarji Desai would be present at the lunch? But the mutton was soft, the chicken succulent and the desserts delectable. Should have more such lunches; minus the urea talks.
5 p.m. : Press conference. I was a bit nervous, but my secretary said he had taken charge and everything would be fine. I quickly learnt why, the press knew as little on the subject as I did. They asked the silliest questions, mixing up ‘kharif’ with Caliph. I impressed them with my expertise on the topic, saw they were well fed, and the secretary had organised expensive gifts. Like the character in “Three Idiots’, I could only exclaim ‘All is well.’
8 p.m. onwards: Busy day ends well, delightful desi khana topped with a great mujra show hosted by Brinjal Growers Association from Bellary. The girls and their dancing were super. End to a hard day’s work! So what if mujra has nothing to do with agriculture?
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V. Gangadhar
The writer is a well-known satirist.[/column]