Dear Dainandini,

What a terribly stressful day it’s been. I’ve spent all year getting more than a little annoyed with my deer head — the eyes were lovely and the fur’s alright, but the snout was a little too broad. I asked the Muni several times if it made my nose look too wide, but he was so busy working on the Pythagoras theorem for the last five years, he would barely look up before mumbling: “You look fine.” I sort of knew I looked fine, Dainandini, but I couldn’t help shake the feeling that I wanted something more than just fine. I’d been thinking of replacing the head. A friend suggested elephant, which was an elegant option at one point, but nowadays you can’t throw a stone without hitting a dozen kids with elephant heads. My friend Menaka says avian heads are all the rage now. I saw a couple of images etched on some banyan leaves — they call them leafies apparently — and decided, vapid as Menaka can be, this was indeed a good suggestion. Because I made all the decisions at appropriate non-rahu kalam timeslots, within three weeks, we managed to locate a suitable swan head. The surgery was scheduled for 2pm today. But boy did my good rahu kalam karma end untimely or what.

First of all, the Sushruta Centre called and demanded I pay half the money in advance. I was counting on the copyright of the Pythagoras theorem to pay for the surgery, but the Muni was insisting he was “blocked”. He couldn’t say how long it would take to finish the theorem. To be honest, Dainandini, I think the Muni is on the verge of some kind of a career-related nervous breakdown. Although you can’t really blame him, not after what happened in his previous project. He spent 25 years coming up with algebra. Not only did the Vice President Muni come in at year 24 and take credit for the whole thing, once everything was done, the Chief Muni Officer decided he’s gifting algebra to the Arabs. It took him six full months of meditating on one leg to let go of the frustration and disappointment he’d built up. Thankfully, he was benched and not sacked. I spent a whole year working with him in one hot yoga session after another and finally got him into a frame of mind where he was ready to think of another project.

Anyway (as a senior editor will write in the future), back to me! I had to hastily put together the money for the surgery. Luckily, my two cows were around. So I set the sundial properly and fed them once every 90 minutes. As you know, Dainandini, the bacteria inside the cow’s stomach turns everything it eats into gold. Still it was short notice and the cows weren’t making as much gold as I needed. Just then, my teenage boy came and told me he could start a kickstarter campaign. I don’t know what the details are, but it meant all the cows in the jurisdiction donated their week’s gold to me. It was only at five this morning that I washed the last of the gold of bovine digestive juices and counted it up. There was enough! Phew.

After all that, there was no time for a nap even. I immediately set about getting the kids and myself ready. We were taking a 40-engine plane. The younger kids were to spend the day attending a Vedic mathematics workshop. The teenagers were sulking, but I promised to drop them off at the Zara sale in Pluto, which unlike the ones we have around here, is rarely crowded. And it was all going very well, when I looked at the sundial, realised it was 10am and our Uber elephant was yet to arrive. We checked his progress through the call-in service at the hot-air balloon, and they told us it was on its way here, when it spotted a longer trip on the system and re-routed itself. It was insane. I had to send my boy to stand on the main road by the temple and flag a random rhino-rickshaw going around. We then dropped the kids at class and just before landing in Pluto, there was some problem with three of the 40 engines. With all the news going around nowadays of planes getting lost between planets, it was super scary. Luckily, we managed to land and then I got a lift on another plane.

At the Sushruta Centre, of course, everything had changed and they sucked me into the racket of getting all kinds of unnecessary tests done. I told them, this is all the gold I am carrying now. I am telling you Dainandini, I could feel them instantly cooling off towards me. Values have gone down the toilet, these days it’s only about how much gold your cows produce. Anyway, at the end of the day, I’m just glad the surgery went well. I love how slender my neck is now. All the way home, I couldn’t help but preen and pout and click tons of leafies. The younger kids are still getting used to the new head, but the teenagers send notes on palm saying “awsm!” So I’m glad.

When Muni came home, he barely looked at me before slamming the door of his study shut. I was determined my swan head should make him as happy as it makes me. I walked in with some tulsi tea and gave him a quiet backrub. The Pythagoras theorem too is lost, he sobbed; they gave it off to the Greeks! Two times unlucky. Anyway, he said, there was no future in science. He was going to change careers and write a book instead. One that is certain to remain Bharat’s for thousands and thousands of years. He isn’t sure what exactly the book will be about, but he has a title for it. Kama Sutra.

@veenavenugopal

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