Playing on your own pitch

 An old tau told a nice story: A pair of cow and buffalo calves decided to play together. The more energetic cow calf proposed playful jaunts and prancing around the turf. So here they go sallying with full gusto. The cow calf went jumping over little hurdles and puddles of water. The buffalo calf tried its level best to be a good play-buddy but soon realized that it was no match for its playmate in jumping and hopping around. It got exasperated and called for a rest break. ‘Let’s play another game,’ it said. ‘What game?’ asked the cow calf. ‘Let’s sit and move our ears. Let’s see who does it better and longer,’ the buffalo calf explained the basics of the game. The lesson is: play at your own turf guys or bolster the little-little advantages nature has given you, like a buffalo’s irreproachable clinging to sit relaxed, chew cud and move ears. They seem like meditators of the animal world when they do this.

Well, the talk of taus reminds me of a few granddads in the village who still have the ‘urge’ for the luscious aspects of life. More in the mind than their creaky aged bodies, I must say. Feeling the torture of this gap between desire and reality they go to the naughty village chemist. The chemist then gives them mind-body gap-filling pills with a rascally grin. The granddads then become heroic, boosted by the pills. They try to force their mind’s imaginations on the surface of reality. The reality involves their daughter-in-laws. The latter flabbergasted and scandalized tell their husbands about the oozing lecherousness of the oldies. The sons then repeat history. They thrash the fathers like they themselves used to be plonked by them in childhood.