The continuing idyll of our yuppie

Our city bred yuppie has settled down into the village, mastered the art of managing without plumbing and has been proposed to. If you’ve missed this story of a couple of weeks ago, click here.

Statutory warning : This is a X rated post. Youngish readers and those with sensitive feelings please leave now !!

Of course the company has not put him here to bask in the adulation of the village belles. He’s supposed to do some work. Like organising a cattle camp.

My good friend Aashish, who comments often in this blog, observed that I seem to have a peculiar fascination for matters bovine – considering the number of times this venerable creature has appeared in what is ostensibly a business blog. I must confess that I hadn’t thought about it, and now that he has said it, am guilty as charged !

Now, in this part of the country, the buffalo is the family’s most prized possession. Therefore the cattle camp is the most important "village development” exercise that he can undertake. What our yuppie hasn’t realized as yet, is that the cattle camp is also the most blatant sex show on earth !!

There are only two objectives in a cattle camp. To castrate the bulls and impregnate the cows. Our yuppie is to participate whole heartedly in the process ; he realises belatedly that his ratings depend on his performance in this orgy, although of a different kind !

The bulls are being led away to one side of the camp. They are lined up one by one to be emasculated. One randy specimen has broken away – he charges vigorously to the cows shepherded on the other side, for the one last fling of his life. He’s promptly caught and brought back, only to be pushed to the head of the assembly line. The logic of this exercise is that bulls, when not motivated to oogle at a shapely cow, will instead work harder. Now, I wonder how come Hitler, Stalin, and the lot, did not consider this angle, when it came to the human race. Although, it must be said that right through history, many kings seems to have grasped this wisdom. Our yuppie’s face is beet red. He has “performed” , at best, an average job. There’s much tongue clicking amongst the wise and the elderly on city bred types who can’t even do a simple job properly.

The scene at the cows end is even more interesting. Humans have decided that its much better to impregnate cows artificially than allow matters to progress naturally; a curious logic considering the number of able bodied bulls at the other end of the field. On one hand you castrate eager bulls who are all too ready to do the job for free. On the other hand, you procure the elixir of life from an unknown stud, of mythical qualities, transport it in liquid nitrogen (global warming and all that), at the cost of an arm and a leg. Whoever said that there was native common sense in the villages ?

The process begins with determining which of the cows are “ready”. I shall pass lightly over this process in order not to offend readers’ sensibilities – suffice to say that the process involves shoving a whole arm up you know what, an act our yuppie is flatly refusing to do; job rating or no rating. The cow’s owner is looking on anxiously. If the verdict is a no, he has come in vain. If the verdict is a yes, he seems to experience the state of heightened euphoria, which is more usually associated with the performer in matters amatory.

The “no” cows have melted away. The “yes” cows are then helped along in their ostensible purpose in life – to bear calves and produce copious quantities of milk. Would our yuppie, at least participate in this – having baulked at the previous step in the process which has resulted in extreme hilarity amongst the onlookers. Knowing that his job is on the line, and with a face akin to an overripe tomato, our yuppie fetches the straws from the liquid nitrogen container and assists in the creation of life !

Evalauation time. The young man is given a C. He has avoided getting fired from his job. In the process , he has brought much merriment to the village folk and has added to the repertoire of folk tales in the village. Fair deal. But he is rather quiet these days.