True Enterprise

My friend G called me out for lunch the other day. He wanted to take me to a restaurant that serves South Indian fare in an unlimited thali system.

We were to meet outside the restaurant; one coming from work and the other from home. Mumbai traffic was stymied by simultaneous Shiv Sena and MNS rallies, both claiming to be true champions of Mumbai mill workers.

While their workers set the stage, inconvenienced other Mumbaikars, I was standing patiently outside the Shri Krishna Restaurant. The location is the most unenvious location. The restaurant is plonked right outside the Matunga railway station. People jostling, bustling, going about their average day hardly ever look up at the restaurant.

Yet, lunch time is when there is not a seat vacant.

Outside the restaurant, there is clamour of the street bazaar, cars parked illegally. Add to that, rains in July in Mumbai make roads splotchy and very dirty. Waiting for G, as I was looking for a place to rest my heavy bag that I carry to work everyday, I saw a very strange sight.

In middle of the cacophony of rallies, train station and cars, there were two cows standing in a remote oasis peacefully cudding. There was a boy roughly 20 years of age feeding them green shoots. After feeding the cows, he touched them and considered himself blessed.



Smiling, he proceeded to pay a rather affable looking old woman some money. I soon realised he had bought the green shoots from her. She had some grass laddoos also. After the boy left, two-three more people came by and bought some green shoots from the old woman and fed the cows.

I went across to the woman to ask her name. She told me her name was Malti. I asked her who had left the cows by the roadside. She informed me the cows belonged to her only. She brought the two out everyday and sold these green shoots to people who fed the cows in turn.



In India, many cursed souls are directed by pundits to feed cows as cows are considered holy.

Malti told me she sells the shoots and laddoos for Rs. 10. She sits everyday for about 4 hours and gets roughly 25 to 30 customers everyday. Simple math, she makes roughly 6 to 8000 rupees every month. For a woman like Malti, the cows are indeed holy.

G arrived half an hour late for lunch. He explained he got late because of the slow moving traffic. Putting the whole city on hold, MNS and Shiv Sena may want to raise a cry for the Marathi Manoos but it is people like Malti who are the true symbol of Marathi enterprise.