On Sunday, Panditji was giving a discourse in the compound of a public school. Across stood a freshly painted board of the British Chewing Gum Company. Impulsively, he made a transition.

‘These foreigners have no respect for our values. How can we tolerate our cows being eaten while we watch?’ His accusing finger rose against the billboard several times. ‘See how shamelessly they advertise. What are you doing about it? Chudiyaan pehen rakhi hain kya? (Are you wearing bangles? Are you going to take this insult lying down?)’

‘Does chewing gum have a cow in it?’ a man whispered to his neighbour.

‘Severe punishment, I tell you. The man will have to carry the tails of all the slaughtered cows on his back and walk to the Ganga to cremate them,’ the neighbour responded.

‘But there are no tails left. They are in that chewing gum with the rest of the cows.’

‘That will be even worse. How many cows are we talking about here?’

‘I don’t know. If you ask me, it’s better not to get involved. It’s going to be a lot of work—how many cows? how many people are involved? who should be held responsible? how much . . . what should the punishment be?—too much work. Anyway, in the end, the committee will settle with the Company and we won’t get anything for all that effort. Sit quietly.’

Panditji continued, ‘What did the Mohammedans do when they found their cartridges greased with cow fat? The 1857 Rebellion!’

‘Panditji, that was pig fat. The Mohammedans would have eaten the cartridges if it was cow fat.’

‘Was it cow fat or pig fat?’ a man asked.

‘It was both—’

‘Why didn’t they simply exchange the bullets and get on with it?’

‘Hindus are vegetarian.’

‘Are the cartridges vegetarian now?’

‘Hundred per cent ghee (clarified butter). If you mix cow fat and pig fat with gun powder, it doubles the power. A few months ago, they found that if you use ghee, the power triples. Point and shoot, point and shoot. The British are slowly learning our science now. Better late than never. I am told they stole the prototype of the rifle from the Rig Veda. Let it be.’

‘No wonder these soldiers are easy on the trigger. Don’t think twice about shooting anyone. Don’t care whether the man on the other side is a Hindu or a Muslim. Receive order, open fire. All because of these vegetarian bullets.’

‘How do you know they are vegetarian?’ another person from the left butted in.

‘It’s science. My uncle is a guard at the docks. He’s trained in these things.’

‘In religion?’

‘Yes, he’s a samaji.’

‘Tell me, why do so many samajis fight in the British army when the army is the biggest cow-eater?’

‘He’s not in the army; he works at the port.’

‘Where’s your uncle again?’ asked a middle-aged man.

‘At the docks.’