Rebeccus Farcis

Rebeccus Farcis means "Have Fun", in err.. the yet to be discovered Martian.

Inglorious Bastards

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Two incidents in the recent past got me contemplative, a little more than contemplative.

It rained, it poured – it washed away those districts in the Deccan plateau that had never seen any rain the past three centuries. It rained in Hyderabad too, winds blew, swaying a few trees. In this melee, a few branches broke, some landed on the road, some on rooftops, a few unfortunate ones landed on Electricity Board transformers. This led to blackout in the neighbourhood. They sent a SOS to the Electricity Board, the board responded immediately.

They shot off a gang of 3 linemen. These men, burly looking them all, assessed the situation. A branch had broken off from this part of the tree and landed on the transformer. Wise men they appeared, climbed up the tree, rattled up a few branches and axed a couple that were dangerously close to the line. This job done, they set out on their real work. It was around this time that the man appeared. Clad in a grey safari and leather shoes in pouring rain, holding an umbrella, this man appeared the boss. He parked his Santro in a corner and immediately set off on his mission. The linesmen were busy fixing up the circuit in the transformer, this man was shouting at them for something.
“Chettu”, he growled, “ee chettu” (The tree, he found, was the culprit.)
“Ee chettu valla ee line ki problem undi. Kommalu virigi line povacchu”, (This tree is a danger to this line. Branches may fall on the line and trip it). How true, you must be a wise man Sir. Wisdom flows from your larynx.

The boss started acting. He made a few calls, within half an hour he had a few men at his disposal. Soon after, he had company, this time, a rich looking man in a Corsa. These two started discussing a few things. Then they started. First a few men jumped onto our terraces and started plucking the leaves. Then, armed with hacksaw, they started sawing off the branches. In 2 hours, even as the linesmen were busy poring over the huge steel grey thing, these men, remarkably quickly, had stripped the dear old gulmohar tree of all its leaves and a few branches.
Within an hour, the gulmohar was stripped of even these branches. The queen that adorned the lane with its majesty of red flowers stark naked. The men, not contended with this started axing the stem, slowly but surely, killing it. A rope was put around its neck, in one murderous show of collective strenght, they pulled the gulmohar down.

The two men in goggles looked the happiest. The Corsa wala, obviously the timber merchant got a nice big hard tree. The safari wala, obviously the big boss in the electricity board, must’ve got his share too. DEAL. Meanwhile, three big men set our transformer right. Money, it is said, pays, big. Yes Sir, I agree. There was big money in that gulmohar tree, WE PAY FOR IT.


Just a flying news. A great monument is to be built in the name of a certain late politician Am not the greatest fan of his late self, and his idolisers aren’t doing this image any great help anyway. A program is on to build a monument for his soul at the spot of his death. What’s the big deal? The size of the monument. 1400 acres in pristine forest land – Chopping away every living tree there is, within.

Foolish? Idolatory? Fanatical? Wild? Quentin Tarantino has a the best word for them all – Inglorious Bastards.


Written by Srinivas

October 6, 2009 at 2:48 pm

Posted in environment

Tagged with ,

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