The Meena Aunty Theory of Inflation

My neighbour Meena aunty has her own theory when it comes to inflation and how it is affecting us, the common man, aam aadmi, mango people—I rather liked Robert Vadra's usage.

She is all praise for the government and its policy of raising prices left, right and centre. According to her logic, the main reason for India's low economic growth statistics is sluggishness. People are lazy and lethargic, and the main reason she attributes this habit to is overindulgence in food.

"Observe people eating and you will know what I mean. Most people don't eat; they attack their food vehemently, trying to get in as much as possible, slowing down only when they find it difficult to breathe." According to her, a land of obese and overweight people, incapable of performing even their day-to-day activities normally, can only result in negative growth for the country.

She is full of praise for the government, which, according to her, has been kind enough to implement courageous reforms that will ultimately benefit us greatly.

Look at what Meena aunty has to say.

"Unsubsidized LPG cylinders that we have to depend on for at least half the year are priced way beyond the common man's reach. One needs to think twice before embarking on the Sunday dum biryani and chicken 65, with the housewife automatically calculating the amount of gas consumed in the preparation of every meal.I guess the government may need to rethink its tourism slogan, Athithi Devo Bhava."

I was curious.

"Aunty, so what if there is a cap on LPG subsidy? Aren't there other means? Can't one make use of versatile induction cookers or microwaves? After all, lots of households have one."

"Sure, dear," retorted Meena aunty. "But then how do you pay the huge shocker of an electricity bill that accompanies their usage? If you dare exceed the 200-unit-per-month slab, you will be bearing the brunt by paying through your nose for the extra units consumed. So where does that leave the family budget?"

Hmm.

True.

My mind started working overtime.

"Meena aunty, I guess people are going to go back to cooking food over a wood fire or kerosene stove."

Pat came her reply.

"My dear, people may suggest going back to good old firewood to keep the home fires burning. Fair enough if you live in a rural area or have an independent house with plenty of trees generating deadwood and fallen leaves, not to mention enough helpers.

"But stoking wood fires in small apartments is not exactly safe or viable. And I doubt apartment complexes will permit it. Wood fires do not exactly complement the décor either. They leave their trail in the form of thick smoke and grease deposits on interior and exterior walls.

"Have you forgotten the dark and smoky kitchens of yesteryears?

"By the way, don't even imagine cutting trees for firewood. You are certain to be hauled up by the forest department for causing ecological damage."

I ventured another possibility.

"Thinking of kerosene stoves? Do you suppose the meagre half-litre quota, for the lucky ones, of this precious blue-hued fuel available through the public distribution system will suffice even for a day?

"And what if it gives not-so-desirable ideas to unscrupulous in-laws of young brides?

"Nope. Cross that out of your list. It is definitely not a brainy idea, my dear."

I gave up.

I was left with a totally hazy look in my eyes.

"Meena aunty, just what are you trying to prove?"

By this time, the twinkle in her eyes told me that she had something to convey.

"Listen, dear. We Indians are renowned for our tolerance and resourcefulness. We tolerate atrocities, corruption, starvation, assaults on freedom, crowds, persecution, murders, dog bites, ant stings and a whole lot of other things.

"To put it briefly, when the going gets tough, the tough get going.

"So, tough Indians that we are, we simply alter our food habits!"

She was getting into her stride now.

"Right from the practice of a daily cuppa at 6:30 in the morning, to breakfasts of ghee roast, idli-vada, lunches comprising sumptuous fare complete with a sweet dish, tea-time snacks and tantalizing dinners, things will change.

"The government's policies will force people to go the healthier way. Salads, bread, cornflakes and other foods that require minimum or no cooking—saves time too, dear—will be the order of the day."

I was beginning to see where this was going.

"So the net result? Healthier Indians who would have got rid of their obesity. A low-oil, low-fat, low-sugar, low-salt diet with plenty of liquids—water, of course—may actually suit our digestive systems perfectly.

"Add to it the fact that you may have to walk more instead of driving because of fuel prices. That will provide enough cardio exercise to keep you fit.

"Include weights and stretches and squats as much as you want, and you have a nation of fit and healthy people.

"Moreover, with fewer hours spent in the kitchen, work time will become more productive and people can deliver better results.

"People are healthier, and the nation too prospers."

"Howzzat!"

I must say, I was totally floored by Meena aunty's logic.

All I could add was that, given the circumstances, in about a couple of decades we might soon witness a food museum where most of our present-day delicacies would be put on display under tight surveillance.

Students would be taken there on educational visits and enlightened about the food culture of a bygone era.

Perhaps there would even be a glass case containing a perfectly preserved ghee roast.

And a little plaque underneath:

"This is what our ancestors used to eat."