24 December 2024
Christmas holidays have just begun. Our plane reached Delhi at 10 pm, but we couldn’t land since it was an odd-numbered flight. The genius jugaadu pilot kept darting around till it clocked 12 and became an odd-day; we finally landed and breathed the ultra-fresh Delhi air.
Life had become so easy with so many apps and start-ups. I just entered my ticket number on ‘pick-my-baggage‘ app, and my baggage began moving in ‘the map in my app’ till I reached ‘Harley-Davidson‘ gate at airport. Bullet train to Bhopal was gone in an eye-blick and the one to Patna entered like a gusto. I just flashed my ticket and it sucked me in with a vacuum mechanism. Before I could compose myself, I was thrown out onto Patna platform, where a coolie was already having my baggage and smiling at me. Thanks to ‘book-my-coolie‘ start-up app.
My hair got disheveled during all this suckin-throwout process, and looked around for mirror. Ah! I could see it everywhere. The glistening shining floor and pillars gave a crystal-clear view of myself. I combed quickly, and as some bits of hair fell down, the beep sound irritated me. A red circular device stopped around me, which read ‘find-the-dust‘-a swachh bharat initiative. Embarassed I smiled as others sarcastically clapped at me. I took those hairs and carefully placed them in dustbin labelled ‘non-pubic hairs’.
Tired and hungry, we had breakfast at famous Fatanjali cafe. It had a live cow-milk counter where long straws were directly connected to cow-nipples. Kids chose to have delicious Fatanjali noodles. Beverage counter seemed too busy especially live go-mutra (cow urine) counter since cow hadn’t urinated for long. Anyway, I pushed off.
I badly wanted a drink. A drop of alcohol. A beer may be. Patna haven’t seen a beer since last ten years. Thanks to ‘darubhatti.com‘, a local start-up, I could get a made-in-india ‘toddy‘, the only legalised alcoholic drink delivered within minutes by half-naked lungi-clad fellow on a bicycle.
Inebriated, we app-booked a local Zuber taxi to my hometown across river Ganga. The purest and cleanest water in the world refreshed me up as I took a quick dip. Well, it wasn’t so quick either. I had to wear a swimming cap, shave my pubic hairs, and a dog sniffed my armpits before I could be authorised to take a dip. This process was managed by another genius start-up- Clean My Ganga Inc., now a Fortune 10000 company. I was issued a loyalty card, where I get a free pubic-hair shave next time.
The taxi barged into my home campus as my father came out shouting. It seems GPS didn’t mention my father has put a bamboo fencing and began some tomato farming there. Old man is still living in his old world. Huh!
(Author strongly believes in enterpreneural initiatives like Start-up India; this blog is his signature satire style, and should be taken in humor and pun-intended spirit)